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Belize Adventure

Author's Note: Thanks, again, to snooper, my editor. Those of you that have read African Adventure will notice a significant passage of time between that story and this one. There is another story that comes between these two and deals in detail with events that are alluded to or briefly referenced in this story. I have elected not to publish that particular story on Literotica because it's mostly adventure. Frankly, there's far too little sex to interest most Literotica readers. The story was largely character development for Sara, growing her into the very strong and capable woman hinted at in the closing pages of African Adventure, and I still like it, but I'm not willing to throw in gratuitous sex in an effort to make it more palatable to readers. It's a nice story, but not a necessary read.

*

The van was stifling hot under the afternoon sun, even beneath the netting that attempted to hide the van from aerial view. Sonia had felt the effort to be a waste, given their intentions, but Sara had insisted in a tone of voice that Sonia had come to recognize as being the final word. With sweat trickling down her forehead she tried to strike up another conversation. Sara had spent the past hour telling her about Africa, details about how she had met Robert that even the wildest gossip had failed to suggest. But when she opened her mouth, Sara held a finger in front of her lips and pointed to her ear with the other hand.

After a minute Sonia recognized the sound, the soft whisper of a helicopter. The sound grew louder as the helicopter approached and Sonia licked her lips nervously. Sara reached out to pat her encouragingly on the shoulder as Sonia pulled back the slide on the silenced pistol sitting in her lap. It slid forward with a loud metallic click and seated a round in the chamber. Just as Sara had taught her, she took the pistol in a two-handed grip and lifted the weapon in front of her, carefully keeping the muzzle pointed skyward.

Sara threw open the side door and looked out at the sky. A helicopter descended rapidly towards the spot they had marked for it and flared steeply at the last moment, settling roughly onto the ground.

"Safety off," Sara shouted to be heard above the noise.

"Safety off," Sonia confirmed.

Sara smiled thinly and jumped out of the van to walk through the billowing clouds of dust towards the helicopter. The side doors in the helicopter opened and six men jumped out. Four of them carried weapons and wore black suits that covered their faces. The other two wore bright orange jumpsuits. One of the men in black tapped an orange jumpsuit wearer on the shoulder and pointed at Sara. Together, the two of them jogged over to her. The man in the jumpsuit regarded her affectionately.

"Who's been a very good girl?" he asked.

"I have, sinjoro," Sara replied as she threw herself into his arms. She kissed him hard and then held him tightly, close enough that she could whisper in his ear, "Just like the diamond ambush."

"Where's the rest of the money?" the man in black demanded.

"In the van," Sara replied, "My partner has it ready for you. Your van is under the netting over there."

The man motioned and the other three men in black and the other jumpsuited man, headed towards the second van. He hefted the sub-machine gun he was holding and headed towards the first van. Sara and Robert followed behind him. They were still several yards from the van when there was a series of soft coughing sounds and the man in black fell to the ground. Sara and Robert ran for the van, diving headfirst into it even as a set of explosions made the world around them erupt in flames, noise, and dust.

A moment later they were out of the van again. Robert reached for the sub-machine gun on the corpse next to the van but Sara stopped him.

"Ne, sinjoro! Here," she tossed a pistol at him.

Working carefully, with pistols at the ready, they checked the flaming wreckage of the van and then the helicopter. There was a single shot from Sara's gun when she thought she saw one of the corpses move. When they were finished, they dashed back to the van. Sonia had it rolling before they had finished closing the door.

"Airfield?" Robert asked.

"Airfield," Sara confirmed, "But it's a red-herring. We've got a boat offshore."

"From now on," Robert said, "I'm making you plan the escapes. You're a hell of lot better at it than I am."

Sara smiled through her tears.

Six hours later Sonia held the wheel of the ship as it knifed through the surf like a white dolphin. The wind was blowing strong enough to raise whitecaps and it drove the boat at a fast pace, leaning it over at a fifteen degree angle. Normally she would have been laughing in delight. Sailing was one of her passions and she rarely got to indulge it, and certainly not in a 40 foot luxury sailboat. Right now though, she felt numb.

She had been in on the rescue plan right from the start; had actively assisted Sara every step of the way. She had known early on that she would have to shoot one of the white-supremacists they worked with to do the actual prison escape. But she was discovering that the reality of her actions was... not what she had expected.

Robert emerged from the cabin wearing boat shoes, swim trunks, and a T-shirt. He flopped down on one of the bench seats forward of the wheel and basked in the sun for several minutes.

"Thank you, Sonia," he said, "I didn't like prison at all."

She shook her head and managed a response.

"No thanks are necessary. You killed to protect me and my family. You avenged my brother. I was in your debt."

"Then your debt has been paid in full. And perhaps then some. I repeat, thank you."

He fixed her with a gaze that penetrated the haze in her mind and she nodded.

Sonia, still wearing blue jeans and shirt came back from the bow.

"Everything is secure and all the evidence is over the side. I don't think they'll find the box even if they know where to look."

She looked at Robert.

"A concrete colander, sinjoro. Holds everything in and lets the sea water corrode everything. I soaked all the clothing in bleach just for extra insurance. Nothing is perfect so if they look hard enough..." she shrugged, "I'm going to go change now."

She ducked down through the doorway into the cabin space.

Robert nodded his head in approval and then appraised Sonia. She felt him looking at her and jerked her eyes from the compass and horizon to give him a half smile.

"It hurts," he said.

"What?" she responded in a puzzled tone.

"The killing. Shooting that man, the explosives. You feel like you're in pain. I've seen that look before, sometimes in the mirror. Don't hold back the emotions. It just makes things worse, believe me. Let it go."

"I... I can't," she whispered.

"You can," he said, "It's over and it's safe to let it out. You're with family. More than that, you're with family who have been through what you've been through. We understand. And we don't think poorly of you of because of what you are feeling now. I'm proud of you, and I'm profoundly grateful. I know that Sara is proud of you too."

As he spoke he stood and went to the wheel, hands grasping it without taking control from her. Sonia felt the emotions welling up inside her but was unable to find a way to let them out. She sat down, collapsing into a chair. She barely noticed as Sara sat down next to her, pulled her close and held her in her arms.

When she awoke she was confused for a moment, then she realized she was in one of the beds in the cabin. She sat up, careful not to bang her head on the low ceiling, and got out of the bunk. Her single suitcase was laid out on the other bunk along with Sara's and a duffel bag with clothing for Robert. She stripped out of the blue jeans and shirt she had worn under the black jumpsuit the day before. The clothing stank of dried sweat and she decided she would get rid of it.

Naked, she walked over to the shower and turned it on. The boat was a luxury model, the baseline, but still a luxury model. It had plenty of fresh water for the short trip they were making and she luxuriated in the hot water, taking time to wash her short, black hair and letting the streams of water wash the stress out of her muscles.

After toweling herself dry she put on a one piece black swimsuit and a pair of shorts. Giving her hair a quick brush-out she stepped out of the cabin and on to the deck.

Sara was standing at the wheel, steering, while Robert sat on a chair next to her. She was wearing what might charitably be called a bikini. What there was of it appeared to be three scraps of red fabric held together by pieces of string. It barely covered her nipples, let alone her breasts, and the piece between her thighs... moved. Sonia saw this was because Robert's hand, reaching from behind Sara, was beneath the fabric and stroking her hairless mons. She stopped in shock, outright staring at them. Robert noticed her first.

"Good evening, sleeping beauty. We were wondering when you'd wake up. I don't trust the auto-pilot, so do you feel up to taking the wheel for a little while?" he asked her.

She nodded, after a moment, and walked back to them. She noticed that Sara's crotch was soaking wet. The red fabric was dark with moisture and her inner thighs gleamed almost down to her knees. When she looked at Sara's face, Sara smiled at her through the sweat that beaded on her brow. Her chest was flushed and heaving as she gulped in air.

"Thank you, Sonia," she gasped.

Sonia gingerly took the wheel and Sara, followed by Robert, headed towards the cabin. Halfway there, Robert grabbed Sara by the shoulder and stopped her. Pushing her to one side, he bent her forward over a bench and kicked her legs apart. Dropping his trunks he stepped forward, his member in hand, and inserted it between Sara's swollen nether lips. Sara moaned as he slid into her, thanking him again and again.

Sonia surprised herself by thinking "I thought he'd be larger," before turning her eyes to the compass and then the horizon. Try as she did, however, she could not stop her eyes from coming back to the scene in front of her. Robert pumped slowly back and forth into Sara, his cock slick with her moisture, her lips sliding the length of him. Sara braced herself against the boat with one hand while her other reached back between her legs to fondle his balls.

They continued in this fashion for several minutes before Robert suddenly slammed home, his abdomen against Sara's ass, and he cried out in pleasure as Sara crooned delightedly. Then he withdrew from her and sat down on the bench, breathing heavily. Sara knelt on the deck next to him. He smiled at her, reaching down to caress her cheek.

"I've missed you," he said.

Sara turned her head to kiss his hand and wrist, tongue darting out to taste his flesh, before responding.

"I've missed you too, sinjoro."

Robert pulled her head closer to his crotch and Sara bent her head over him, hands taking careful hold of his semi-erect penis, holding it up as she guided her mouth over it.

Sonia watched, shocked and fascinated, as Sara fellated Robert. She felt the moistness building between her thighs and the flush on her cheeks, which suddenly bloomed as Robert turned his eyes upon her.

"Think I'm a monster?" he asked.

Sonia shook her head.

"Well, I am. Of a sorts. But I'm a monster governed by rules. You are part of our family. You're safe. But it's important that you understand the relationship Sara and I have. Because we consider you family, we won't be hiding our relationship as we did before."

He reached down and took Sara's hair in his hand. Using this as a handhold he pulled Sara off of his cock. He bent over, kissed her, and then drew her head back between his legs.

"We'll have a little more privacy when we get home. But this is a small boat and I am not inclined to restrict myself after my imposed celibacy. Is this going to be a problem for you?"

Sonia shook her head slowly.

"Are you sure?" Robert persisted. "I'm not kidding about you being family. I'm willing to make some accommodations if you find this distasteful."

Sonia's mouth opened, but no words came out. She closed it and tried again. "I don't know how I find it. But you live your lives the way you are accustomed to and if I have any problems I'll bring them up."

Robert groaned and his eyes closed briefly. He glanced affectionately down at Sara before looking back at Sonia.

"That's fair enough," he said. "Please excuse me for a minute."

Robert turned his attention back to Sara, stroking her hair and murmuring softly to her. Sonia watched in fascination as Sara finished him, Robert jerking up into her mouth as Sara moaned loudly and then licked him clean. When she was done she turned her head to Sonia.

"Thank you, Sonia. That's very understanding of you."

Sonia, her heart beating rapidly, gave Sara a small smile and concentrated on piloting the boat.

That night Sonia woke with her hands between her legs. She had been dreaming about Robert and Sara. In her dream Robert had just taken her in his arms and was kissing her about the throat. She groaned slightly in frustration and began to touch herself in earnest. When the mattress moved she squeaked in shock and sat bolt upright, banging her head against the ceiling. A light clicked on and she saw Sara sitting at the foot of the bed.

"I'm sorry," Sara said, "I didn't mean to frighten you. I wanted to talk."

"Not really the best time, Sara," Sonia gasped, "You scared me half to death."

"Shocked you, perhaps?" Sara suggested. "You thought you were alone."

Sonia gulped and nodded, "I did. I'm... a little embarrassed at the moment."

Sara smiled at her, "After watching Robert fuck me from behind and then have me blow him? A little masturbation kind of pales in comparison wouldn't you say?"

Sonia colored in the dim light and then laughed. They enjoyed the moment together, sharing broad smiles.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that," Sara pursued, "Robert told me to take care of you. I was planning on making you this great breakfast and it wasn't until I saw you in bed that I realized you've been celibate for even longer than I have. You don't have to be, you know."

"You're not suggesting that Robert...?" Sonia exclaimed and then shut her mouth as she remembered how small the boat was and the way sound carried over the water.

"Actually, I wasn't," Sonia replied, "I wouldn't have a problem with that, but I don't think it would work. He does some things on his own terms. *Only* on his terms. I don't think that normal partner sex would work with you two. But he's not the only one who could help you."

"You?" Sonia squeaked.

Sara nodded, "You're family. You don't have to lie alone in the dark and masturbate. I can help you get some sexual relief that's a little more satisfying."

Sonia was stunned and took several minutes to recover before speaking. "I didn't know that you were a lesbian," she managed.

"I'm not. But, among the other things that I am, I am a sex slave. I'm used for sex. To give, and generally receive, pleasure. And my master has ordered me to take care of you, a family member. This is something I can do for you."

As Sara spoke her hand, beneath the covers, traced up the inside of Sonia's leg, past her knee to her thigh. Her nails grazed lightly over the sensitive flesh and Sonia drew in an involuntary breath of air.

"So you are suggesting that we...?" she stopped.

Sara nodded her head, "Although, to be honest, the idea of kissing your mouth or your vagina," her hand went higher, almost to the junction of Sonia's thighs, "makes me a little uncomfortable. I'll do that, if you want me to, but I'd prefer not to."

Sonia felt her heart racing. Here, on a boat far away from her home and cut off by her actions from the civilization that had sheltered her, this crazy idea seemed to have merit.

"I don't know...."

She paused.

"I don't know how to do this," she said.

Sara nodded, "I've seen this, but it's a first for me. Let me take the lead. I'll give you pleasure and if you want me to do something just tell me. I'll do it, no questions or judgments."

Sonia considered this for a long moment before closing her eyes and nodding. She felt Sara get off the mattress and then she was sitting next to her.

"Lean forward, Sonia," she said in a gentle voice.

Sonia leaned forward and Sara scooted in behind her. Sonia felt her hands on her neck and upper back, slowly and strongly rubbing her muscles. After several relaxing minutes of this Sara moved her hands to Sonia's head, massaging the scalp and her face. Sonia felt tension she hadn't known was there flowing out of her body. She leaned back into Sara, her small breasts soft against her back.

Sara's hands left her scalp and moved back to her shoulders and arms, strong fingers pushing the tension down into her hands. Sonia spent several minutes on each hand, her thumbs kneading the flesh of the wrist and palm. She took each of Sonia's fingers in her mouth, slowly pulling them from between her lips. Sonia felt as if Sara was sucking the tension from her body through the tips of her fingers.

Then Sara's hands were roaming her flanks and Sonia felt a new tension rising in her. Sara cupped her breasts, slowly letting their weight slide from her hands and leaned forward to kiss Sonia on the side of her neck.

"I'm jealous of your breasts," she whispered to Sonia, "I know Robert likes large breasts. I wish mine were larger."

Sonia swallowed before responding, "Thank you, Sara."

Sara dropped her lips back to Sonia's neck and her hands slowly meandered down her belly. Sonia was breathing rapidly, now. Sara's mouth was hot at her neck and her skin felt hypersensitive beneath the touch of Sara's hands. The last desperate moment of apprehension vanished as Sara's fingers darted across the folds of her sex creating a moan that surged up out of her belly.

"That's good?" Sara asked.

"That's good," Sonia groaned, "Do that again."

"Jes, sinjorino," Sara responded, and did.

Sonia writhed in Sara's arms as she slowly ministered to her desires. At last, Sonia reached down with her hands, pinning Sara's hands beneath hers and cried out loudly as the orgasm swept through her. The power of it frightened her and she sobbed quietly, tears running down her cheeks, until she relaxed back against Sara who enfolded her in her arms.

At length she spoke, "Thank you, Sara."

"You're welcome, Sonia. I'm glad you enjoyed that. And thank you for helping me free Robert. I know you had your own reasons, but I still appreciate what you did."

"Sara?"

"Yes?"

"Explain this to me, please. What do you get out of this?"

Sara did not speak for several minutes and then she laughed, "It fills a hole in me."

Sonia joined her laughter.

"Really," Sara persisted, "I need to submit. I feel more alive when I'm doing it, and normal sex just doesn't excite me the way that submissive sex does. When Robert takes hold of my hair and bends my body into a position that excites him, I feel like my cunt is about to explode. And I have screaming orgasms that seem to last for hours. Besides," she added, "I don't think I was going to get to use words like 'cunt' if I stuck around and had the life my father had planned for me."

They both shared another laugh at this. Sonia reflected that she had left her old life behind and had no idea what her new life would hold, but at least she had a good friend.

"Oh," Sonia said as she felt Sara's fingers move, "Do that some more."

"Jes, sinjorino," Sara replied.

Sonia lay back and enjoyed Sara's attentions for several minutes until she dared more.

"Wait," she said. She leaned forward and reached down to the suitcase, rummaging in it for a moment before pulling out a large vibrating dildo. Red-faced but determined, she handed it to Sara. "Use this."
Sara smiled at her and bowed her head in assent. "Lie down," she told Sonia.

Sonia lay back on the bed, her legs spread and Sara knelt between them. She placed the head of the vibrator between Sonia's wet lips and slowly rubbed it up and down, rotating it to coat it in her vaginal honey. Sonia sighed contentedly, her embarrassment slipping away from her. Sara inserted the vibrator into Sonia, just the head, then out, then halfway, then out, then slowly all the way in. She stroked the vibrator in and out several times before leaning forward to kiss Sonia's breast. Leaving the vibrator inside Sonia, Sara brought her hands up to gently fondle her breasts. Sonia whimpered quietly as Sara teased the nipples with her lips, tongue, teeth, and fingers. She felt her pull one nipple and slowly roll it between a finger and thumb as her tongue circled the other nipple, now painfully hard.

Sara released the nipple with her hand and transferred her mouth to it. Sonia's hips bucked uncontrollably upwards as Sara's free hand unexpectedly turned the vibrator on. The hum of the vibrator was lost in Sonia's cries of pleasure. Sara worked the vibrator back and forth in time to the beat of Sonia's heart. Sonia's hands clenched the pillow behind her as Sara brought her to the brink and then slid the vibrator home, holding it in place with her thigh and brought her hands and mouth back to Sonia's breasts. Sonia's hips bucked, sliding up and down Sara's leg and she screamed in raw pleasure, not caring in the slightest that Robert was right outside the door.

When she emerged into the daylight several hours later Robert greeted her cordially.

"A good night?"

"Very," she responded, "Thank you. I needed that. Need that."

"You're telling me about pent up sexual needs? I spent the last eighteen months in prison," he said with a grin, "I'm glad you let Sara help you. God knows, she helped me."

Sonia sat on one of the benches and surveyed the blue waters of the Pacific.

"She was so matter of fact about it," she mused, "How does someone get to be like that?"

Robert's face transformed itself, becoming very grim and menacing.

"In her case it's because she was damaged; I know because I did the damaging. I can't even claim I didn't want to damage her because the truth is, when they sat her down in front of me I wanted nothing else. Two years of setting things up for that diamond robbery and I was ready to toss it all away just to have her."

He paused.

"So now I have her. She says she's happy, and I know that I'm happy, so all's well that ends well."

He cast a glance over at Sonia.

"What about you? What are your plans now?"

Sonia shook her head, "Don't spoil my mood, Robert. I feel happy and unburdened by care. I have no idea what I'm going to do beyond make breakfast, take my turn at the wheel, and ask you if I can borrow Sara again tonight."

Robert laughed. "You do those things. When we get home you can take all the time you want to decide what you want to do. You're not hurting for money and there's no rush to make any decisions."

Guatemala was a rude awakening. A sudden intrusion of a harsh society into the soft reality Sonia had been building. Days of sunbathing in the nude, nights of gently rocking waves and stars that filled the sky and open sexuality were replaced by a teeming mass of outsiders that curtailed the freedom she had been experiencing. There was the compensation of buying soft cotton dresses in vivid colors and sampling delicious foods, but she felt as though the world was pressing in around her. She also felt she understood Sara and Robert a little better; their lifestyle was intoxicating. It was almost like a drug that they would do anything to get more of. She wondered, on the long, crowded bus trip across the mountains into Belize, if she was becoming addicted to that drug.

Home, *her home* Robert and Sara kept assuring her, was amazing. The little fishing village was everything Sara had described and more. Though undoubtedly dirt poor, it looked well kept and very clean. There were signs of new building and Sara was pleased to point out all the work they had done. A new school and health clinic as well as a community center and a new dock; all built with funds provided by Robert and Sara. As they rode through the sand streets of the town on the way to Robert's house they were cheerfully greeted by adults and children alike. Their horseback procession was halted a dozen times so that Sonia could be introduced to the alcalde, the priest, the head of the local fishermen, a gaggle of children, the doctor and his students from the new medical center making their house calls. The house was a renovated warehouse at the edge of the water. It had been rebuilt and converted into a small villa by Robert with the addition of a courtyard and stables. A staff of men and women, some of them armed, had ushered them through the doors and whisked the horses off to unseen stables. Sonia had been led to a small and simply appointed room with a private bath. Showered and attired in one of her new Guatemalan dresses she had followed one of the maids to Robert and Sara's suite for dinner.

Robert and Sara, she soon saw, lived as simply as everyone else. Their room was Spartan with a tile floor, an enormous but simple wooden bed, a pair of wardrobes, a few wooden chairs and a small dining table on a balcony overlooking the small bay. She went outside and found Robert seated at the table, reading a small pile of papers. He stood up as she approached and waited until she sat.

"Everything you expected?" he asked.

"Not at all," she responded, "I was thinking horrible heat and thick velvet curtains and marble floors. This looks a bit like a monastery. It's very simple and elegant. I think I like this better."

She looked around.

"Where's Sara?" she asked.

Robert looked over his shoulder, "Here she comes."

Sonia looked over and saw Sara approaching them, naked and carrying a tray. When she arrived she knelt between them and began placing plates and bowls on the table. Then she slid the tray beneath the table and remained kneeling on the floor.

Robert pointed to the food in front of Sonia. "Dig in. More simple-but-elegant. Very good."

Sonia hesitated, "And Sara?" she asked.

"Mastro Robert will feed me, Sonia. Go ahead and eat," Sara said softly.

Reluctantly, Sonia picked up her fork and began to eat. The food was, as Robert had said, very simple and delicious; a grilled fish with some sort of cream sauce on the side and steamed vegetables and a bowl of beans and rice. As she ate she stared in unabashed curiosity as Robert would occasionally pick out a morsel of food with his fingers and hold it down for Sara to eat. Sara would open her mouth and take the food from his fingers and then lick them clean. She smiled wickedly at Sonia as she did so and Sonia realized that Sara treated Robert's fingers exactly the way she treated his cock. The realization that Robert and Sara were having sex in the middle of dinner caused her to laugh.

"That's a new reaction," Robert said, "Most people are glaring at me or ogling Sara. We've never had laughter before."

"The pair of you are shameless," Sonia exclaimed delightedly, "You're fucking right here in the middle of dinner and I'm clueless about the whole matter. Amazing."

Robert and Sara both laughed. "Not many people make that connection, Sonia," said Sara, "But you're right. This is a sexual behavior. Here in Mastro Robert's room there are some special rules that I apply. This is one of them."

Sonia slept alone that night, between cotton sheets so thick they were stiff and underneath the gossamer screen of mosquito netting that hung from the ceiling. The night was balmy and the French windows let in a breeze from the sea and the sounds of Robert and Sara's lovemaking. It was a fitful night.

In the morning, after another meal on Robert and Sara's patio, Robert instructed Sara to show Sonia the town. In the Guatemalan dresses and leather sandals the pair of them wandered through the village. Sonia quickly came to realize that Robert was spending a great deal of money in the village. A new school and teachers to work in it, a health clinic and doctors and nurses to staff it, an orphanage, and most of the buildings seemed to be in some stage of renovation.

"Tourism," Sara explained, "The lack of beaches will keep the numbers down, but that's just fine with us. It will help to preserve the nature of the town and keep developers out. No big hotels, just lots of little bed and breakfast type places. But even a little tourism will help the economy immensely."

"So you help the people by bringing in tourists?" Sonia asked.

Sara nodded, "Not just tourism, though. We're building some small industries as well. Robert owns land inland where we're growing bamboo. In a couple of years we'll be selling bamboo to the US and Europe and we'll be using some of it here. If you process it properly you can make all sorts of things from it: furniture, building materials, bicycles, carts. And we're building up a solid core of service industry knowledge; the new school has facilities to train people to be plumbers, electricians, and mechanics. We're talking to the local farmers about setting up a model farm to experiment with agricultural techniques and teach farming to some of the students. The clinic is also a school. We have students from medical schools come in to do a semester of fieldwork or even their residency. And lots of the locals are being trained as medical technicians. We've even got scholarship funds set up so that some of the students can go to college."

Sonia laughed at Sara's gushing account and Sara colored slightly, but was unrepentant.

"My father was going to see me married off to some upwardly mobile lawyer or doctor and I was going to spend the rest of my life organizing parties, having babies, and trying to work off the weight. This is *real*, Sonia. We're building something amazing here."

"How do you do it?" Sonia asked, "How do you go from being a tool of Robert's pleasure to being this amazingly capable woman?"

Sara reached up and cupped Sonia's cheek. "They aren't different people, Sonia. It's always just me." She smiled, "Come on, I don't have to exercise the horses today, but we can still go for a ride."

On horseback Sara continued the tour ranging into the fields surrounding the town. When the sun was high they returned to the house and retreated to the shade of the downstairs patio to drink rum and reminisce about school. When the breeze died down for the tenth or eleventh time Sara lost her patience and stripped out of the dress and dove into the water beneath the patio. Sonia stepped over to the rail, aghast, and watched Sara stroking further out into the water under the admiring eyes of a dozen observers. She stopped and turned, treading water, and motioned for Sonia to join her.

Sonia growled in frustration and then peeled off the hot dress and jumped over the edge.

"You know this is crazy, don't you?" she demanded as she approached Sara.

Sara laughed like a bell. "Maybe in everyone else's world. In *my* world this is perfectly normal. Besides, admit it. You love the fact that every healthy man in sight is staring at you. You love the fact that their hearts are beating faster and their cocks are getting hard. And you especially love the fact that that fisherman is being beaten by his wife for looking at you."

"Really?" Sonia asked and turned to look at the shore. She realized her mistake a moment later as Sara placed both hands on her shoulders and forced her under the water. She came up, spitting out water, and saw Sara stroking away from her.

"No you don't!" Sonia called and gave pursuit. Being larger and stronger, she soon caught up to Sara, grabbing her ankle and dragging her back for a revenge dunking. Instead of coming back up, Sara went deeper and pulled Sonia underneath by her ankles.

The two of them returned to the surface almost in unison, laughing.

"You're right, Sara. I do like this," Sonia said, laying back to float in the warm water. The rise and fall of the water rocked her body gently and the sun warmed the skin of her chest and belly. She knew that she was completely exposed to anyone who wanted to look and yet.... "This is how you build your reality," she said to Sara, "You simply live it and let other people ignore it." She raised her head and looked around. Already a good many of the people on the shore had returned to working. She turned to face Sara.

"That's it, isn't it?" she demanded.

Sara smiled.

"I live my life on my terms," she said, "Why shouldn't I? It's not as though I'm hurting anyone. Most people would think I was crazy, but I reject their opinions. They are welcome to their opinions of me and I don't care what they are."

"Dropping the burden of society's expectations," Sonia summarized, "A little bit dangerous, don't you think? What if everyone simply did what they wanted to do? Peer pressure is a species survival mechanism."

Sara shrugged.

"Perhaps in the realm of law and other areas, but when it comes to sex and relationships I think it's counter-productive. I'm not arguing that my views are superior to those of society in general, but I don't think they are inferior. I like my freedom and I accept the consequences of my actions. I like to swim nude and therefore," she lay back in the water, her arms and legs outstretched, "I accept that people will be able to see me swimming nude."

A bell began ringing in the village and Sara hauled herself upright. "Lunch time," she announced, "Race you back."

Sonia pulled herself out of the water well before Sara was close to the house. She put her hands on her hips and taunted her as she swam to the porch.

"Hardly seems fair when you're a foot taller than her," Robert remarked.

Sonia started; she hadn't heard him approach and his presence was startling. He looked her up and down and she blushed, despite the fact that he had clearly seen her sunbathing nude several times on the boat.

"You're more athletic, too. Although I wager Sara could walk you into the ground. She's had more practice at that."

He stepped past Sonia and reached his hand down to pull Sara out of the water. Sonia picked up her dress, but refrained from putting it on.

"Dankon, sinjoro," Sara said and kissed him briefly, "I'll get the food. Shall we eat on the balcony?"

He shook his head. "Too hot. In the bedroom," He turned to Sonia, "Will you join us?"

Sonia hesitated, but she was enjoying herself far too much to suddenly go back to her old habits.

"Yes, thank you, I will," she replied.

Naked, with the dress slung over her shoulder, she followed Robert up to the second floor. In the bedroom he casually removed his clothing, piling it into a wicker basket, and headed towards the bathroom. Sonia watched him from the balcony, struck again by the amazing collection of scars that marked his body.

Sara came in with the tray of food and Sonia rose and went to help her. Sara shook her head.

"Thank you, Sonia, but no. This is my job and my privilege."

Sara placed the food on the table and slid the tray beneath.

"Back in a minute," she told Sonia. On the balls of her feet she ran lightly into the bathroom.

Sonia sat down in a chair and looked through the balcony doorway out over the town. Everyone seemed to be headed into the shade in a sort of Brownian movement that emptied the streets. She sipped idly at one of the rum drinks on the table, enjoying again the bite of the added spices. Robert came out of the bathroom followed by Sara and sat down at the table. Sara knelt next to him. As he had at both previous meals, Robert bowed his head for a moment before eating.

The food was excellent, if simple. A roast chicken with a dark crust of spices was the centerpiece surrounded by grilled vegetables and fruits. A large bowl of beans and rice sat next to it, flanked by another bowl of fresh fruit. A small basket held a pile of large corn tortillas. Robert disdained the use of silverware, instead using his fingers and pieces of tortilla. He alternated feeding himself with feeding Sara and Sonia casually speculated about what it would be like to be fed in that manner.

A knock at the door came, midway through the meal, and Robert gestured for Sara to answer the door. She came back a moment later.

"There is a telephone call for you from one of the investigators I hired," she reported.

Robert grunted and stood. "This may take a few minutes. Sonia, would you please feed Sara some food?"

Sonia was too surprised to do more than nod and Robert, after washing his hands on a towel provided by Sara and pulling on a pair of shorts and a shirt, walked out of the room. Sara came over and knelt next to Sonia. Sonia could see the wicked twinkle in Sara's eyes.

"You're laughing at this! I can see it. You think this is amusing because it makes me uncomfortable," she accused.

"Guilty," Sara admitted, "But I'm also wondering how you're going to deal with the situation; you could simply avoid it by not feeding me, of course."

"What would you do then," Sonia asked.

"Go hungry," Sara admitted, "This is a new situation for me. Robert has never delegated his feeding rights. Under the circumstances I think I should act as if he was still right here. Sitting at the table without his invitation would be unacceptable, as would taking food from the table. You could always put some food on the ground for me to eat, but I'm not allowed to use my hands in that situation."

"I guess you're going hungry then," Sonia said.

Sara gasped in mock surprise. "You'd let me starve?" she protested, with a grin on her face. Then she switched tack, "Mi petas vi, sinjorino, nutri mi."

Sonia's grin froze and she suddenly felt uncomfortable again, "What did you just say?"

"Please, lady, feed me," Sara replied. "Mi petegas vi," she added, "I beg you."

Sonia colored again and then shook her head as she realized that Sara was making the situation worse as a way of tweaking her. She pulled a piece of fruit out of the bowl and held it down for Sara. Sara slowly took the piece of fruit from her fingers and Sonia gasped quietly as she felt Sara's mouth hot on her fingers. Sara chewed and swallowed the piece of food and then licked Sonia's hand. Sonia pulled her hand away as if it had been burned and saw the mischievous grin on Sara's face.

"You little bitch," she laughed, "I'll bet Robert would beat you if you tweaked him like that."

Sara nodded her head, "Probably. So I don't."

"And me?" Sonia asked.

"You're my friend, Sonia, not my master."

Sonia just nodded in resignation. She could see the logic and, in truth, could not argue with it. It made sense and Sara was consistent. Sighing, she began to feed Sara in earnest.

When they were finished Sonia declined to have Sara lick her fingers clean, opting instead for a small bowl of water and a towel. She lay down in the large hammock that hung on the porch and chatted with Sara, who remained kneeling by the table, waiting for Robert.

Robert came back into the room a short while later. He came back to the table and sat down to eat. Only when he was finished, his fingers cleaned, and leaning back with a drink in his hand did he speak.

"The consensus seems to be that I am a murdering bastard with ties to the Aryan Brotherhood. So far as they can tell I escaped with the aid of accomplices in what was a carefully orchestrated escape and faction elimination. They believe that I have fled the country. So, the bad news is that it will be a very long time before I go to America or Europe. The good news is that none of the guards were killed during our escape and the authorities seem to be looking for male accomplices. So you and Sara are in the clear for the moment. It's probably best if we give it a couple of months before you head back though. If that's what you decide to do," he concluded.
"What about the local police," Sonia asked, "Belize used to be British and they have extradition to the US."

"Not for death penalty cases," Robert replied, "I should be safe. Assuming the US bothers to track me down and present enough evidence to make an extradition request I could tie things up in court for years. If it started to go against me I could just disappear again. There are still places to go."

"What if I decided to stay here?" Sonia ventured.

Robert shrugged, "Plenty of room and there's lots of work to be done. Sara showed you some of the projects, and there are others. You're family and you're welcome here whenever and for however long you desire."

Sonia hesitated and then plowed on, "How would that work? Me being family and staying here," she clarified.

Robert opened his mouth to reply and then stopped, "Oh. I think I understand. What exactly will our," he gestured to encompass himself, Sara, and Sonia, "relationship be?" He shrugged and then scratched his head. "I don't really know," he admitted, "I suppose we'll just have to work that out."

"It's a little confusing right now," Sara observed. "I'm the slave, but Sonia is neither a slave nor a master. So sometimes I'm treating her as a friend, sometimes I'm treating her as a master; mistress, I suppose."

"How about this?" Robert proposed, "I'm the head of this household and Sara is my personal servant and a member of this household. Sonia is a member of this household and she's my guest, nothing more. You treat her as your friend, not some ersatz mistress."

"I can do that," Sara agreed.

"What about the sex?" Sonia asked, "I mean, if we're being all adult about this, I'd like to clear that up. Does that mean you won't be available to me anymore, Sara? If that's the case I'm going to have to do something about sex because I'm not going back to midnight masturbation and sleepless nights."

"I think we can still have sex as friends, Sonia. Will that be enough?" Sara responded.

Sonia pondered this carefully before replying, "I don't know. I'm still finding my way in this new world you've introduced me to. I crave the freedom and the unburdened sense of joy that I feel. But I don't know how to get it. You came back and made yourself a slave to get it. How do I get it?"

Sara came over and took her hand. "It's okay, Sonia. I had a lot of professional help when I was asking these kinds of questions, and it still took a long time to find my answers."

Sonia got out of the hammock and started pacing. She ignored the concerned looks that Robert and Sara gave her.

"That's good for you, and I appreciate the support, but it doesn't help me. I'm living in a foreign country, my brother is dead, and my life is gone. But that's not too bad because when I'm playing dominance and submission games and having lesbian sex with my best friend from school or swimming naked in front of people I don't know I feel more alive than I ever have in my life. And I've discovered new things about myself that I never knew. I like to act like a slut. If I had my preferences I'd act even sluttier. I'd like to come into your room late at night when you're screaming in passion and crawl into your bed and scream with you. I can also kill people. Only bad people so far, but maybe I could kill good people too. It's not hard. You just squeeze it gently, like a tit, and you get a little cough and a lot of mess." She continued talking in a confused train of thought, ignoring the glances that Robert and Sara shared.

"Breakdown," Robert said, "She's been walling the grief away since before her brother died. It's coming out."

Sara nodded, "I did this twice. She's lost her anchor and doesn't know what's real. We ground her or she could get bad."

Sara stood up and walked over to Sonia, putting one arm around her shoulder. "I think you're right," she declared.

Sonia stopped and looked at her in puzzlement and hope. "Right? About what?" she asked.

Sara maneuvered Sonia back towards the hammock. "It's difficult to put into words," Sara said. "But I think I can explain it if you help me. If you listen to me and help me form my thoughts. Let's lie down in the hammock and we can figure it out together. Because whatever happens you have family to support any decisions you make."

"Decisions," Sonia demanded, "You want to see decisions? Here's a decision. I want sex. Real sex. Not someone rubbing my cunt because they have to. See? I can use dirty words too. I want cock. I want it filling me. I want to be so full that I ache. And I know how to get it. Because I enjoy acting like a slut," she shouted, "It's easy."

Shaking Sara's arm off her shoulder Sonia dropped to her knees in front of Robert. "I can be just as slutty as your slave," she announced, "and *I've* got bigger tits." She ran her hands up her side to her breasts, lifting them and pressing them together. She leaned forward to show off her cleavage and then leaned back, massaging her breasts and moaning softly. One hand massaged a breast, pulling at the nipple and rolling it between finger and thumb, as her other hand went to her parted lips. It traced them and then a finger slipped between them. Sonia sucked on the finger, her eyes closed, and her faint moans filling the air.

Sara stepped forward but Robert lifted a hand and she stopped, waiting.

"You think you know how to get sex?" he demanded in a chilly voice. "You think you know about pleasing me? You think you can do anything better than Sara?"

"I can do everything better," Sonia hissed back at him, glaring into his eyes. "I don't have to be raped into submission. I don't have to be broken. I was born wanting to act like this."

The words hung in the air, an accusation and admission, as Robert and Sonia locked eyes. Finally Robert nodded and got to his feet. He walked slowly over to the bed and lay back on it.

"Prove it," he ordered.

Sonia crawled to the bed, full breasts swaying beneath her, hips undulating wantonly. Catlike she crawled upon the bed and between Robert's legs. Smiling at him she lowered her head and began to lick at his cock. Under her attentions it became hard and she slipped it into her mouth taking as much of it as she could. She held it there, tongue working, as her hands gripped the rest of his shaft and his balls. Moaning loudly she began to work her mouth up and down him as her hands massaged his testicles gently. After a few minutes of this Robert spoke.

"I hope you fuck better than you suck because you're not doing very well," he commented in a dry voice.

Sonia looked up angrily and growled in inarticulate rage. She crawled up the bed until she was straddling him, her hand guiding his spit-covered cock into her. She took his glans into her wetness, grinning lasciviously at him. He raised his eyebrows in a gesture she took to mean "So what?" and she slammed herself down on him, burying him deep inside her. Then she rode him hard, lifting herself up and dropping down, strong muscles squeezing him in time to her motions. She bent down over him, lips and tongue caressing his chest, tracing the scars on it and seeking out his nipples. She lowered herself onto him and began to grind back and forth, the motion rubbing her clitoris and sending sensations of pleasure shooting through her. She heard herself screaming, but couldn't understand what she was saying, and then she came, her entire body awash in electric delight. She collapsed upon Robert then, gasping for air. Through the haze of pheromones and exhaustion she heard him laughing.

"Please," he said, his tone dripping in sarcasm, "You don't know the first thing about sex. You're not just a slut, you're inept at it."

He rose up, dumping her on the side of the bed. She felt a hand in her hair and she was dragged from the bed, landing in a rough heap on the ground. She struggled to gain her feet, stumbling after Robert as he pulled her out onto the balcony. He thrust her forward into the hammock and she landed on Sara who wrapped her arms and legs around her torso. Sonia tried to stand up, but found that Sara was holding her in the hammock. She braced her feet against the floor and started to pull, but she felt her legs being kicked apart. A moment later Robert thrust hard into her and she groaned. His hips moved him in and out of her at a firm pace, his legs and abdomen slapping against her ass each time he drove deeply into her. Sara was whispering into her ear but Sonia couldn't understand the words. She whimpered in protest as Robert slapped her ass hard.

"Scream for the crowd, Sonia," he commanded, "They can all see you, but they want to hear you."

Sonia tried to turn her head to see but found she couldn't; Sara was holding her tightly. She yelped as Robert slapped her ass again, harder.

"I told you to scream, you rutting bitch. When I give an order you obey it," he growled. Fire lanced through her body as he pinched the back of her thigh and she screamed until the pain stopped.

"Again," he ordered, his fingers on her thigh as a reminder of the price of disobedience.

Sonia screamed, again and again as Robert pounded into her and then sobbed as he grabbed her hips and rammed home one last time, his member swelling and jerking inside her and she felt his come.

After several minutes he withdrew from her and Sara released her. Together they pulled her further into the hammock and lay on either side of her. Sara pulled her close and Sonia sobbed herself to sleep.

She awoke in the evening breeze as Robert was putting up mosquito netting around the hammock. Sara, wide awake, was still holding her. Her mind woke up next and she started.

"Oh!" she exclaimed and her eyes darted back and forth between Sara and Robert. "Did I really?" she tapered off. Sara nodded. "And..." she stopped.

"Yes, I did," Robert said, "You needed a catharsis. Simple sex would have probably been enough, but you may recall that I'm something of a monster." He shrugged, casually dismissing the entire matter, "You seem to be back in control of yourself."

Sonia nodded.

"Good," Robert continued. "Because you and Sara were right. Things were too damn complicated. So we've simplified things. You are a member of this household and you are my slave. The chain of command goes from me to Sara to you. Sara will teach you what you need to know."

Robert looked over at Sara, "Teach her the language; my mouth still feels filthy. And make sure she knows what she needs to know," then he returned his attention to Sonia.

"Slavery is, in some ways, just a term here. You're free to leave if you want. Maybe you'll choose to stay, maybe you'll choose to go. Even if you decide to leave, you're still family. But so long as you're here, you're a family slave. Understand?"

Sonia nodded and Sara whispered into her ear.

"Jes, sinjoro," Sonia repeated and then, "Thank you both," she whispered.

Robert merely grunted his satisfaction. "Go get dinner, Sara. Sonia, follow me."

Sara kissed Sonia quickly on the forehead, smiled widely at her and pushed her gently in Robert's direction. Sonia, after a moment of hesitation, followed Robert into the bathroom. He turned on the water and stepped in, motioning for Sonia to join him. Robert stood beneath the spray of water, eyes closed as he slowly turned. Ice cold drops splashed Sonia and she felt goose bumps form on her skin, her nipples hardening. Robert stepped out from under the spray and gestured for Sonia to step under the nozzle. She hesitated until he frowned and then stepped under, quickly turning and moving her hands to get her whole body wet. She started to step out but was stopped by Robert's hand. Shivering under the water she waited until he was satisfied and then stepped out. He squirted soap into a washcloth and began to lather her body.

"Spread your legs," he said, "Hands behind your head."

Sonia swallowed, nervously, and complied with his commands. The washcloth was soft and he moved it firmly across her body, carefully applying the soap to every inch of her, even her face. So she felt, rather than saw, his hand bending her over. Stepping behind her he scrubbed gently between her legs. She bit off a moan and then, reconsidering, moaned in soft satisfaction. He scrubbed down both of her legs to her feet and then had her stand up straight. Firmly he pushed her back under the water and meticulously removed the soap from her body. The water was still cold, but her body felt strangely warm.

"Genu," he ordered, "Kneel."

Sonia carefully lowered herself to her knees, taking care not to remove her hands from behind her head.

"Bona virineto," Robert chuckled, "Good girl. You can lower your hands now Sonia."

He stepped forward and began to wash her hair. Staring straight ahead, Sonia was inches away from his cock. She remembered what she had done earlier and blushed, more at the realization that she had tremendously enjoyed it than at the act. The thought intrigued her and she pursued it. She had, mostly, enjoyed performing oral sex. But she had enjoyed it much more with Robert. The difference, she decided, had nothing to do with the act, but with the context. It was something to think about.

Robert washed her hair thoroughly and then she was permitted to wash him. His body was strangely fascinating. Her fingertips surreptitiously sought out the seemingly endless supply of scars that covered much of it, including the side of his face. He chuckled and she blushed.

"Sara does that too. What is it with women and scars?" he asked.

"I suppose they are proof of ability," she said, "Proof that you have seen danger and survived. That capability speaks to something deep in the female psyche."

"Ability?" he said incredulously. "Proof of stupidity is more accurate. If I had been smarter I'd only have half the scars. All these prove is that I was too dumb to avoid getting hurt and lucky enough to survive. I got the ones on my face by standing too close to a mine I was detonating."

"I know..."

"Sinjoro," he interrupted, "'sir' in Esperanto. You will use the term."

"Yes, sinjoro," Sonia said, "I know about those scars, sinjoro. Sara told me what happened. Why did you..." the thought trailed off into an uncomfortable silence before she found the words she wanted and the courage to speak them. "Why did you do what you did?"

Robert turned the shower off and motioned for her to follow him. She was ordered to dry him and then permitted to use his towel to dry herself.

"I had very few options. I couldn't just send her back. Even if I had tried she wouldn't have made it. Any of the soldiers I could have sent with her would have just waited until they were out of earshot and raped her to death. I could have tried making a run for it with her, but that wouldn't have worked either; she was exhausted." He stopped at the doorway of the bathroom and turned to look her in the eye. "I also made the decision to continue with my plan. Make no mistake about nobility of purpose, I was planning on stealing those diamonds; I had worked long and hard at the plan and I made the choice to continue." He turned and walked into the bedroom with her at his heels.

"Killing her quick would have been an insult to the troops. I'm sure they expected me to share her with them when I was done with her. What was left? Rape and slavery. I made it as easy as I could, and that wasn't at all easy. She's alive because she has an enormous amount of courage and willpower. It also helps that she's smart as a whip."

He sat on the balcony, in one of the chairs at the table.

"Take the extra chair back into the room. You eat on the floor now," he explained.

Sonia carried the chair back into the room and then returned to kneel next to his chair.

"On my left," he said, "You're junior to Sara. She gets to kneel at the right. Same with walking." He examined her for a moment. "Spread your legs apart, Sonia. You don't hide anything from me and I enjoy seeing an exposed woman."

Sonia complied quickly, spreading her knees and exposing herself to his gaze. She pushed her shoulders back to lift her breasts and looked for approval in his eyes. He smiled at her.

"Better."

Sara came into the room with a tray of food which she carried to the balcony and arranged on the table. Then she knelt next to Robert and waited. Sonia studied the way that Sara knelt and tried to copy her. She felt clumsy in comparison to the smaller woman and wondered how she achieved the effect of comfortable grace. Robert held down a piece of food and she took it in her mouth before she realized what she had done. She remembered wondering how it would feel. Now she knew, and felt the flush of excitement begin to grow within her.

Robert was eating methodically, almost mechanically, and there was no conversation. So far as Sonia could tell she and Sara were fed the exact same amount. She found herself breathing more rapidly with each passing moment and trying to lick Robert's fingers clean whenever her mouth was in their vicinity. She thought she had understood the sexual nature of the feeding but now realized that she had grossly underestimated. The food barely registered and was, to her, simply an excuse to lick and suck at Robert's hand. She discovered she was smiling just as Robert put the plates down on the ground.

"Sara first, Sonia next. Clear the table when you're done and come to bed."

Sonia watched him walk into the room and then turned back to see Sara slurping food off of the plate. She waited impatiently for her turn and did not hesitate when it came. When she was finished she looked up to see Sara's eyes upon her.

"I found that humiliating the first time I had to do it," Sara said. The statement was a question, however, and Sonia answered it.

"I don't. I meant what I said, you know. I really was born wanting to act like this. I used to dream about it, in school, and then I'd go down to the chapel and pray for forgiveness. And after school, I didn't know how to go about anything. Even normal dating was tough. Then with what Ivan tried to do... I shut things out," she shrugged, "It's incredibly exciting. I'm wet just from the meal."

Sara smiled at her. "I'm glad you're happy and I think this might work. Help me gather the dishes."

Together they gathered the dishes and then Sonia followed after Sara, the tray heavy in her hands. Sara led the way through the house and down to the kitchens. Sonia could feel the staff looking at her, staring openly where before they had merely used passing glances. She felt both intensely embarrassed and stimulated. The dishes were turned over to the kitchen staff and then they both returned to the bedroom. Outside the door Sara turned to her and whispered "Follow my lead."

Pushing the door open, she stepped inside and dropped to her knees. Sonia followed suit, closing the door behind her. They crawled on hands and knees across the floor and into the enormous bed. Sonia felt Robert's hands upon her, pulling her next to him and, dreamlike, she molded herself against him. His arm wrapped around her, holding her close on one side, her head resting upon his chest. On the other side she could see Sara, cuddled in a similar fashion.

She lay there, shaking softly and listening to the beat of his heart in the brilliant moonlight for what felt like hours. Robert dropped off to sleep, snoring faintly, as did Sara. Sonia was left alone with her thoughts and a body that seemed to be thinking for itself. Twice she caught her hand playing with the hair on his stomach and stopped lest she awake him, wondering if she would be punished for that. The third time it happened his eyes snapped open and he rolled over on top of her. She felt him inside her, and was puzzled by this, not remembering him entering her. But she was pinned beneath him, her hands raised above her head and pinioned by one of his while her legs were spread as wide as she could contrive and he was deep inside her. She moaned and lifted her hips, pressing up against him as his mouth sucked at her neck. She was shaking with excitement as he pumped into her and came entirely unexpectedly, screaming in delight. He continued to work at her, driving deeply in an increasing rhythm that prolonged the orgasm and merged it with another. She screamed into his mouth, his lips crushing hers and sucking the air from her lungs until she couldn't breathe and felt as if her entire body was surrendering itself to him. And then she could breathe again in great, heaving gasps as he licked the sweat at her neck. After a several minutes she was able to breathe normally and he rolled off of her. His hand pushed her head down his abdomen to rest on his belly.
"If you get intolerably excited again, you can suck on me," he chuckled.

Sonia laid still, body still trembling, with her face inches from his glistening cock, his cum slowly leaking out of her, and wondered how long she should wait.

In the morning she helped him take Sara, holding the smaller woman against her while Robert took her from behind and then she fetched breakfast while Sara cleaned him. After eating the pair of them cleaned up the room. Sara took the opportunity to introduce Sonia to the staff. Most of the staff were Africans, Congolese that had escaped with Robert, with a smattering of people hired from the village.

"Saluton, Flavpeltulino," one of the maids greeted them.

"Saluton, Marie," Sara replied, "Sonia estas la nova sklavino de Mastro Robert. Mi instruos sxi."

Marie smiled and walked away, shaking her head.

"I told her that you're Robert's new slave," Sara explained to Sonia, "And that I will be teaching you. Most of the Africans don't speak English, so you're going to have to learn Esperanto to deal with them. You're going to have to learn it anyway because Master Robert prefers it for some activities."

Sonia took the sheets that Sara pulled out of a closet and then followed her back down the hall towards the room.

"I remember him saying that his mouth felt filthy," she mused, "What did he mean?"

"Good example," Sara replied, "Is the word 'slut' a compliment or an insult?" she inquired.

"An insult," Sonia responded, and then she looked startled as the implications sank in. "Oh! So he didn't like calling me a loose woman?"

Sara laughed, "If you're behaving properly he'll call you that all the time. What annoys him is having to use terms that are loaded with negative connotations. The common usage of the term, in English, is not complimentary. We will shamelessly cater to his every whim, and he'll correct us if we don't do it to his satisfaction; but he won't beat us because it gives him pleasure... well... the occasional spanking aside, and he won't insult us. He won't ever tell you that you're a worthless whore. He won't ever debase or degrade you. He values us very highly and will address us accordingly." She laughed again, "It can be disconcerting to have him politely ask if you are enjoying the rough ravishing he's giving you. But you'll get used to it."

They began to make the enormous bed, working together slowly as Sonia aped Sara's actions.

"But, back to language. Esperanto is such a new language that it doesn't have as much connotation accreted around each word. The equivalent term for a loose woman, in Esperanto, is malcxastulino. But if you wanted to use the term as an insult you would have to add the derogatory suffix -acx. Malcxastulinacxo is the derogatory term slut. Basically, a woman who is the opposite of chaste in a bad way. We are going to be the opposite of chaste in a good way."

"It's also something like our own secret language," she continued, "Perhaps it's juvenile, but having our own language to use creates a sense of identity separate from the rest of the world. And there are some tactical advantages. Remember when Robert and I had to communicate in front of Ivan's goons?"

Sonia nodded pensively, "That was Esperanto?"

Sara nodded. "Yes. Useful. Which brings up another point. We serve Robert, and sometimes that can be dangerous. Like freeing him from prison. What do you think your slavery is going to be like?"

"I don't know," Sonia admitted, "I haven't thought about it much, apart from my fantasies, and they weren't very realistic. They were always sex fantasies. So I pictured myself as a pampered slave in a harem, being brought to my master's chamber to satisfy him." She blushed at this admission.

"You'll do that too," Sara promised, "But it's more complicated and far less fantasy here in the real world. We have assigned tasks," she gestured at the room around them, "such as keeping his room clean. But the basic rule is simple: do whatever he says, right away, to the best of your ability."

Sonia nodded. "I can do that. I *want* to do that."

"Since he hasn't assigned you any tasks you'll help me with mine. I function as his personal assistant and everyone here reports to me. You'll function as my personal assistant until he directs otherwise. Everything is a lesson and you need to focus very hard on learning as much as you can as fast as you can. Listen to me and I'll help you," Sara said.

Sonia nodded her assent.

"One warning," Sara told her, "You know that this isn't a game for me. This is my life and I take it very, very seriously. Don't treat this as a game or I will become extremely angry with you. You've seen me kill people, but believe me when I say you've never seen me angry. Komprenas?"

Sonia swallowed hard before replying. "I understand you, Sara..." she paused, "What do I call you?"

"Sklavinego," Sara replied, "Big slave girl, boss slave girl."

"Jes, sklavinego," Sonia said, "I understand you."

When they were finished cleaning the bedroom they dressed and went down to the stables.

"We exercise the horses," Sara explained. "The grooms will take care of the cleaning, but we are responsible for making sure they get enough exercise. That means taking them out to the paddock and riding them hard. You're going to be sore and horny come lunchtime," she predicted.

And she was correct.

The days were hot and the work was enjoyable but not overly taxing. In Belize the attitude seemed to be that a person should work enough, but not too much. In the morning the room was cleaned, the horses were taken care of, and there were classes in yoga and self-defense and Esperanto. In the afternoon and into the early evening, after food and a mid-day nap, they managed the estate. Sara kept the books and read the reports from various foremen and then drafted orders which Robert, almost invariably, signed without reading. Sonia assisted Sara in this and gradually drifted into directing the library they were establishing. Nights were spent in the company of Sara and Robert.

Sonia was amazed at the way things worked out. In the beginning she couldn't get enough. She was constantly excited and wanted more sex than Sara and Robert could provide. After a while she became acclimated and began to revel in the situation, enjoying the anticipation as much as the actual act. Once she told Robert she was too tired and sore, which he shrugged off and then turned his attentions to Sara. Sara had beaten her senseless with a wooden switch the next morning however, in the only time Sonia had ever seen her angry.

"I don't care if you're bleeding from the ears you arrogant bitch, if he tells you to spread your legs you get on your fucking back and thank him for the opportunity! Don't ever make me look bad in front of my master again and if you ever do I'll give you a real beating that will make you understand what a god-damn love fest *this* little talk is!"

Sonia had been striped by welts for days, but she had still tended the horses and still served Robert, and she had even, after thinking about it long and hard, thanked Sara and promised not to make her look bad.

They began swimming regularly before lunch. On Saturdays they took the afternoon off and went swimming and then lounged about the sitting room with drinks and finger food. Other women from the village began to join them and Sonia inadvertently gave the affair a name when she referred to it as their 'Naked Tea'. Sara was delighted and it became a weekly event, attended by just about every woman in the village at one point or another. Robert had wandered through the house once during a Naked Tea, and thereafter found an excuse to be away every Saturday afternoon.

Late in the year the chief of police paid a visit. He was actually a constable, the village being too small to merit an actual police force, and British; a man who had retired to Belize. Sonia had been nervous when she heard he was coming to dinner, but Sara had reassured her.

"He's actually very nice. He knows all about us... well.... about Robert. He doesn't know that we set up the escape, so don't talk about that. But Robert pays him a 'consulting fee' every month and provides the militia that he uses to chase bandits so he doesn't officially know that Robert is wanted in any way. He used to come over for dinner every week. I think he's been keeping his distance until he was sure that nothing was going to happen regarding Robert."

Sonia had decided she liked Constable Fortin soon after she met him. She had met him at the doorway, naked and kneeling and inviting him to enter the home of her master. It was the first time she had consciously acted like a slave in front of someone other than the staff and she had been very nervous and excited by the prospect. Sara would have done the job, and well, because she wanted to make Robert look good; Sonia craved the... humiliation. She reveled in her ability to be a slave and actively sought out such situations, which is why Robert had given her the task. Constable Fortin had greeted her cordially and talked to her as if she was just another woman at a party.

They ate on the living room balcony, Sara and Sonia kneeling next to Robert and serving the food and drinks as needed.

"I'm glad to see your government has decided you're not worth pursuing," Constable Fortin stated, "God knows it makes my job that much easier and I prefer to avoid unpleasantness."

"It won't be an unpleasant task if I have a little warning, Wesley. It won't be a task at all, I promise you," Robert responded.

Fortin waved his hand dismissively, "I know that, Robert. I know that. And I also know that if you don't have a little warning it would be a grossly unpleasant task. Besides, I really don't see why your government is so worked up about a dead Russian mobster. You've made the world a little cleaner, in my opinion."

Robert chuckled. "It wasn't just one, it was several, though I would only have killed one if the others hadn't insisted on protecting him. And my government is not worked up about those deaths, but they *are* moderately annoyed about the escape. Not enough to track me down officially. I expect I'll be hearing from them in good time unofficially, though. And so long as they are willing to let me be I'll be very cordial and cooperative."

Fortin coughed, "Hmm... On that subject, I've had a request."

Robert regarded him warily, "What sort of 'request'?"

"We have a bit of a problem in Belize City. Smugglers are moving women from Eastern Europe from here up into Mexico and then the United States. The women come in on tourist visas and simply stay. They work in nightclubs and get... broken in. Then the smugglers move them on to Mexico and through the border into the United States. We've had five bodies in six months. The smugglers are really rather vicious and take a dim view of women who object to becoming prostitutes."

"So shut them down," Robert said, "That's what a police force is for."

Fortin laughed, "If we had a scrupulously honest police force, Robert, you'd be sitting in a jail in Belmopan awaiting extradition to the United States. They have friends in high places."

"If you don't have friends in high places, Wesley, then why do I pay you a consulting fee?" Robert asked pointedly.

Fortin made placating motions with his hands, "Easy, Robert. Don't get your blood in a boil. You understand the idea of factions. My friends in high places would be very grateful if you could gather some intelligence for us. Enough information to embarrass the pimps' friends in high places. Enough for us to arrest some of these chaps and sweat them enough to build a case to arrest some more of those chaps."

Robert thought about this for a moment and then leaned forward, "Is it a threat, Wesley?" he asked.

Fortin shook his head, "Not a threat. A request. You've proven to be a good neighbor and, as a good neighbor, your neighbors are asking your help in cleaning out a small problem before it becomes a big problem. No one wants to live in a cesspool, Robert," he pointed out.

"What did you have in mind?"

"There's a nightclub in Belize City, The Anaconda. Popular with the tourists, and some of the wealthy. The women there are all Eastern European. We're certain as we can be without actual proof that it's a major part of their operation. It has private rooms that very few people can get into. If we raided it we would find nothing but law abiding citizens, by the time we got there. A man such as yourself, with two very subservient women by his side, might be invited into the private rooms. Sort of kindred spirits, in a very distant way," he hastened to add.

"You want me to take Sara and Sonia into a place like that?" Robert demanded, "You're out of your fucking mind, Wesley!"

"Where's the harm? It's just a look around. You socialize, you have a few drinks, you remember a few details to tell us about and you leave." He smiled winningly, "A walk in the park."

"Yes, exactly. The last time someone told me that I got shot!" Robert responded.

"We haven't got anyone who can get in. They know everyone on the force by sight and their friends would let them know about any undercover person who went in officially."

"And how do I know that their friends don't know about this conversation?" Robert demanded.

"My friend has talked to me and I have talked to you. No one else; nothing on the books, nothing on the phone, nothing on the pillow," Fortin replied.

"It would be the right thing to do, sinjoro," Sonia said.

Robert regarded her coldly for a moment and then looked at Sara. "And you?"

Sara looked, Sonia thought, very detached and replied in a voice devoid of emotion, "I can't turn my back on women in that situation, sinjoro."

Robert exhaled fiercely, and then nodded, "All right Wesley, we'll do it. But if I feel at all threatened then I'll do whatever it takes to eliminate the threat."

"Fine. Thank you very much for this. We really are going to make Belize a better place to live. On more pleasant subjects, our friends from the SAS are going to be in country in three months. They were inquiring about a re-match with your 'militia'. I suspect they have some new gadgets they want to try out and I know they found your hospitality noteworthy."

Robert, however, was thinking about other subjects.

The Anaconda was located away from the main tourist areas. It was a rambling collection of properties located on a single city block. The owners had purchased rooms in the adjacent buildings and knocked entries into the walls between properties. That much Robert had been able to ascertain from the building records that Constable Fortin had provided. He assumed that the owners had made other changes that the building records would not reflect, but he had a general idea of the volume of space The Anaconda occupied.

Looking at the club from the outside one would get the impression that it was just one more of the many second rate clubs that dotted Belize City. Too small and too far from the beach and the hotels to attract the wealthy tourist trade. Unless one watched. Cars with dark windows routinely pulled up in front of the club and dropped off passengers who were obviously not bargain package tourists. It was in one of these cars that Robert pulled up in front of the club. Luke got out of the front passenger seat and scanned the street with dead eyes before opening the rear passenger door so that Robert could get out, followed by Sonia and Sara. Robert walked purposefully up to the front door and past the bouncers who waved them in.

The interior of the bar was dark and loud. Robert scanned the room for a moment and then put two hundred dollar bills on the tray of a blonde woman wearing next to nothing. He whispered a few words in her ears and she nodded. A few minutes later a large, balding man stepped up and greeted them in Spanish.

"Oksana said you wanted a booth?" he inquired.

Robert nodded, "Someplace a little quieter, perhaps?"

The man glanced at the women and at Luke.

"Is your man armed?" he asked.

"Of course," Robert replied, "He wouldn't be much use if he wasn't."

The man made a decision and motioned for them to follow. Luke stepped off after him, followed by Robert and the women. He led them deeper into the club and through a double set of heavy curtains and up a flight of steps. Behind the curtains was what amounted to a separate bar. Darker, cleaner, and more muted. Groups of men and women sat at semi-curtained booths talking and drinking or watching the naked women dancing on the three lighted stages.

The man ushered them into an unoccupied booth and motioned towards a wall. Four women in tube dresses and high-heels tottered with various degrees of success towards the table and lined up.

"Your servers," the man announced, "Anything you need, tell them. You pay your bill at the end of the evening. I am Sergei, a manager."

Robert pointed to two of the women. "You and you. The others may go." The two women not selected looked apprehensively at Sergei.

"Go," he snapped. "Not to your liking?" he asked Robert.

"Inferior quality," Robert responded, "My customers have higher standards."

Sergei examined him carefully, "You are in the business?"

Robert nodded once, "Africa. I move them to wealthy customers and then dump them into the markets in South Africa and Zimbabwe. It's getting difficult to avoid the authorities in Europe. The war on terror. I'm hoping to start making my purchases elsewhere. Here, maybe."

"For the highest quality you need to buy them close to the source," Sergei noted.

Robert nodded again, "It's going to become more difficult to do business in Europe. I'll pay the extra cost to avoid trouble. My clients will pay the extra cost, soon enough, when their regular supply line dries up. Besides, I can add Latins to my supply stream."

"Have the girls get your drinks, relax. I'll be back," Sergei told him and then walked off.

"Bourbon," Robert said, "And bottled water for my women and my guard. If the bartender slips you the poor quality bourbon I'll buy you so that I can beat you to death."

The women paled slightly and walked unsteadily in their heels to the bar. Robert watched them go and then motioned for Luke to take up a position where he could watch them. Sonia leaned over to say something and he pulled her head under the table to keep her quiet. Inwardly he groaned as he felt her undo the zipper on his pants. There was such a thing as taking an act too far, he felt, but there was nothing he could do except play his part. Sara leaned in to nuzzle at his neck.

The two women came back to their table with the drinks while a third from the bar took a bottle of water to Luke. They waited apprehensively as he took a sip of the bourbon and visibly relaxed when he smiled faintly in approval. He motioned for them to sit.

"How much?" he asked.

The bottle blonde on the left responded, "$100 for oral sex. $200 for vaginal or anal. Per act. $300 for an hour. $500 for two. $800 for the night."

"For both of you or per person?" he pursued.

"Both of us, sir," the natural blonde answered.

"Then Sergei is doing good business. What are your names?"

"Svetlana," the bottle blonde said.

"Ilse," said the other.

"Ilse?" Robert wondered out loud, "Not a particularly Eastern European name. Are you German?"

"My family is," whispered Ilse.

"Ah," Robert said, "One of the local Mennonite girls. How did they snatch you?"

"I argued with my family..." Ilse began and then stopped as she realized she was saying too much, "It's unimportant. Sir. Now I am here for your pleasure."

Robert tapped Sonia's head beneath the table and she pulled her mouth off of him, carefully tucking his painfully hard cock back into his pants and zipping him up. She lifted her head and smiled at the girls as she nestled into Robert.
"Have you been trained?" Robert asked, directing the question at Svetlana.

"Yes, sir. Very thoroughly. They are careful about that."

The words were spoken correctly, but Robert heard the underlying tone. Before he could say anything else Sergei returned to the table in the company of another man.

"This is Mr. Kulcyznski. If you wish to do business, you should talk to him."

Kulcyznski sat down, roughly pushing Svetlana to make room.

"You are interested in purchasing bitches?" he demanded.

"I am. High quality. Fresh. Like that one," Robert said, pointing at Ilse.

Kulcyznski frowned. "She hasn't been properly broken in yet. She still thinks she's something other than a fuck-bitch. I have better ones. Well trained."

Robert smiled and spread his hands. "Breaking them in isn't a problem. Many of my clients prefer to do that sort of thing themselves. Mostly I'm interested in a source of supply someplace the authorities are less concerned about terrorism."

"Sergei said. You'd be paying more, particularly for fresh. Most of my suppliers enjoy their work."

"My safety is worth the expense. I'll recoup my losses soon enough," Robert replied.

"You really think the authorities in Eastern Europe will start to get nosy?" Kulcyznski asked.

Robert nodded. "Terrorism is becoming a problem for everyone and the Muslim population in Eastern Europe is getting restive. Soon it will become more difficult to operate there. Everyone will have to outsource their training facilities. Maybe even their supply source. I'm just getting ahead of the trend and establishing contacts. And if you have more like her," he said, pointing to Ilse, "then perhaps my costs won't be so high. I had no idea there was a source for white women here."

Kulcyznski muttered something under his breath and reached across the table to viciously slap Ilse across the face. "Stupid cunt! Didn't I warn you about talking about where you came from? I know I did because I punished you the last time! But you didn't learn your fucking lesson," he backhanded her this time, rocking her entire body, "Sergei! Get the whip."

Ilse was sobbing and hysterical. "Please! No! I said nothing! Please!" she begged Robert, "Please! Tell him!"

Robert shrugged. "She's not very bright, but she really didn't say much. How much do you want for her?"

Kulcyznski, still red in the face, turned to him. "2000 euros. These local white women are hard to come by."

Robert laughed, "I pay 2000 euros for highest quality virgins. She's nowhere near that fresh and my customers only care that she looks white and has a tight cunt. They don't care where she's from. I'll give you 900 euros and if you have any others like this I'll buy them at the same price."

Kulcyznski thought about that before responding. "1000 euros each if you buy at least 4. Just this one will cost you 1400. And only after I teach her to keep her mouth shut."

"If you damage her I'm not interested," Robert pointed out.

Kulcyznski smiled, "I'll be careful."

Sergei hurried over with a long leather whip, multiple strips of leather held together with a handle. Kulcyznski took the whip and slapped Ilse again. "Crawl to the stage you stupid cunt. Now! If you make me any madder then I'll forget that you might be worth some money and just beat you to death."

He turned to Robert, "Sergei will show you the rest of our stock, just the ones who aren't ready for the floor yet. Pick out the ones you want. Come out when you're ready."

Robert, trailed by Sonia, Sara, and Luke, followed Sergei through a tangled set of corridors, past bathrooms, storage rooms, and a kitchen and into a basement that was not on the plans. Robert regarded the scene with the sort of distaste that only someone who was truly experienced in the misery of the world could muster, but carefully kept the emotion away from his face.

The women were handcuffed, naked, to pipes running the length of the walls. A bed, just a mattress on an iron bed stand, stained with every sort of bodily fluid, sat in the center of the room with restraints dangling from the headboard and footboard. The room stank of urine, feces, and the sort of sour sweat that the completely terrified produce. The women, some of them more properly girls, blinked in the light.

"On your feet you whores!" Sergei bellowed. He walked down the line, kicking those slow to rise.

"Which ones are the local girls?" Robert asked quietly. Sergei pointed them out and Robert made a show of examining them. There were five, two more Mennonites and three Creoles. Robert nodded his assent and Sergei began removing them from the chain. Robert walked down the line of cringing women and selected two more.

"How will we get them out?" he asked Sergei, "Just take them out the front door?"

"There is a kitchen entrance," the man replied, casually slapping one of the women on the top of her head.

"Good," Robert said, "I'll call my secretary and have him bring the money and a van. 8000 euros. We'll call it 9000 to establish goodwill. I think we can do business in the long term." He took out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Williams. Bring a van and 9000 euros to The Anaconda. There is a kitchen entrance. We have some merchandise to move. How long? Twenty minutes? Good. I'll be waiting."

"Bring them up to the kitchen," he told Sergei, "I want to see if there is enough left of Ilse to purchase."

Sergei handcuffed the lead woman in the coffle next to a door in the kitchen and then led them out to the bar. Ilse was hanging from cuffs suspended from the ceiling over the center stage and screaming in pain as Kulcyznski brought the whip around in rapid circles, laying the leather strands over her back, ass, and legs. Her feet were suspended above the ground and each time the lash landed it swayed her body. Kulcyznski was timing his blows, one to move her away from him, the next to hit her as she swung back. He had apparently been energetically applying himself in their absence because Robert could see that he was sweating profusely. After one last vicious stroke he stepped down off the stage to the sound of applause from the other patrons. Smiling, he walked over to Sergei and Robert's party.

"Go get her down," he ordered, "Bring her to the kitchen. I'll tell the rest of the cunts I sold her to a whorehouse. That should keep them in line. How many did you select?"

"Seven, all told," Robert replied.

Kulcyznski pulled out a handkerchief and mopped at his forehead. "Seven? A good night. You have our money?"

"It's coming. My secretary is bringing the money along with a van to transport the women."

Kulcyznski laughed, "Women? Women are people you marry and have children with. These are just animals for fucking."

Robert laughed dutifully, "I have never married. And you?"

"Once. She cheated on me, so I killed her. Now I don't bother. I have my job to keep me happy."

Sergei appeared dragging the semi-conscious Ilse just as Robert's phone rang.

"My van is here," Robert announced. "Let's clear the kitchen and get the women outside."

Kulcyznski began shouting at the cooks, herding them out into the bar area. Sergei went over to the door and took a look at the alleyway. "I see the van," he announced.

"Good," Robert responded.

Stepping over to Kulcyznski he took his hand in both of his. "This is a real pleasure," he said as Sara stepped up behind Kulcyznski and stuck a needle into his neck. The man tried to spin around, but Robert held tight to his hand, restraining him, and a moment later he fell to the ground unconscious. Turning, Robert saw that Sergei was staring into the pistol and dead eyes of Luke.

"It would be a good idea to remain very still, Sergei. Luke doesn't really care if you live or die."

Robert turned to Sara, "Get the girls out to the van. Call the car over. I'm taking as many of these women out of here as I can. Sonia, the syringe."

Sonia reached beneath her skirt and pulled the syringe strapped to her thigh loose and then handed it to Robert. He injected the contents into the unresisting Sergei and waited until he collapsed, then he kicked him in the groin to ensure that he was really unconscious.

The van stopped just short of the door and four black men carrying shotguns and pistols jumped out. Intended to be the cavalry riding to the rescue in case things had gone bad, they served just as well as guards for the women. Sara began giving orders in a calm voice, instructing them to secure the kitchen and alley as she dialed the cell phone to call their car around.

"Follow me, Luke," Robert said, "You too, Sonia."

Leaving the confused babble of the women behind him, he left Luke in the passageway to keep his line of retreat open. He and Sonia dashed down the passageways to the basement. In the light of the single bulb he told Sonia, "Tell them that anyone who wants to be free again needs to stand up and follow us out to the van without making a sound."

Sonia repeated the message several times in Ukrainian and Polish as the women began scrambling to their feet. Robert walked down the line undoing handcuffs and pushing each woman to line up at the door and repeating the message in Spanish. When he had released them all, he went to the front of the line.

"Not a sound or they will find you and kill you. Slowly. We will get into a van and drive away. You will not be turned over to the police or forced to work as whores," he said in Spanish and then again in English. Sonia repeated the message as best she could. From the way the women were nodding their heads, they understood enough of the message to recover a measure of hope.

He led the way down the passage, walking slowly to prevent any panic. At the door to the kitchen Luke waved him through and he led the procession out the back door, into the alley, and into the waiting van. Sara jumped in after the last of the girls and Luke jumped in last. Sonia pounded on the partition and the van, packed to the roof with naked women, began to slowly pull out of the alley.

"The car?" he demanded.

"I sent it on ahead with as many of the girls as I could fit in it; there are even a couple in the trunk," Sara replied.

Robert bellowed for everyone to be quiet and dialed a number on his phone. "Oh God!" he babbled in Spanish, "I've been shot! I've been shot! This is Constable Rodriguez. The Anaconda club. Send help! Oh God! I'm bleeding all over the place!" Then he hung up.

"You might want to report a fire at the club, sinjoro," Sara said quietly.

"Why?"

"Because I threw some towels on the burners as I left," she responded in a level voice.

Robert shrugged and made the call.

Constable Fortin was mildly upset to be summoned to a safe-house far from his home in the middle of the night. He was furious about the fire.

"Damn it all, Robert! I asked you to gather information, not set fire to a bloody city block! Do you have any idea how much media attention this is garnering?"

Robert rubbed his forehead and took a sip of the drink sitting on the table next to him.

"I've got two cell phones with some very interesting phone numbers on them," he explained to Fortin, "I've got two mid-level members of the Russian Mafia chained up in the basement. And I've got twenty-two women prepared to offer anonymous testimony. If you rounded up even half of the women that were working the floor then you can probably cut enough of a deal to have all the information you would ever need. You can prosecute clients. You can prosecute ministers..."

"Based on what?" Fortin demanded, "I can't get a wire-tap on their phones. They'd hear about any effort to obtain a warrant."

"I'm sure a public-spirited citizen will send you copies of recordings and transcripts," Robert pointed out.

Fortin stopped in mid-rant. Then he thought for a moment. Then he sat down and thought some more.

"People could have been hurt in the fire," he pointed out.

"People were being hurt without the fire," Robert countered.

Fortin nodded, "That will teach me to be careful what I ask for. How will you deal with the women?"

Most of the women simply wanted to go home. Robert bought them plane tickets or, in the case of the locals, bus tickets. A delegation from the Mennonite community brought over several cases of their locally produced foods and a message that they would be praying for him. One of the Creole girls had no home to go to, so Robert gave her a job. He also gave a job to Ilse, who refused to go home. In all, he ended up employing four of the women and placing one other in the village orphanage.

Kulcyznski and Sergei vanished after very rigorous interrogation supervised by Luke. The African former child-soldier was one of the few good apples Robert had salvaged from the mess in the Congo. He played soccer with the rest of the young men from the village, laughed loudly at the cartoons played in the open-air theater, and was utterly indifferent to cruelty. Kind and genuinely concerned with the welfare of just about everyone he met, his only response when Constable Fortin asked why they had made transcripts of the interrogation rather than just making video recordings was, "Too much screaming."

Collapsing on top of Robert, Sara nuzzled him and quietly asked, "You've been very restrained for the past week, sinjoro. What's wrong?"

"How am I any better than Kulcyznski and Sergei and the rest of those bastards?" Robert asked quietly, "I am genuinely thrilled to rape you and Sonia. I dearly love the control I exercise over you. So why am I any better than them?"

Sonia snuggled up to him and kissed his neck, "You try harder, sinjoro."

Sara giggled and Sonia followed suit. After a moment, despite himself, Robert started laughing too.

The bar was quiet in the mid-afternoon heat. Just about everyone was home for lunch and siesta or, in the case of many of the women, at Robert's house for the weekly Naked Tea. Which is why Robert was sitting in the bar. It was too much to ask of a man, he thought, that he be forced to be in the company of a round dozen or more naked women. It would challenge the willpower of a saint, and he was far from a saint in any respect. And involving the local women in anything approaching an orgy was absolutely out of the question. The locals were willing to put up with a great many eccentricities on his part, but fooling around with their women would be over the line. So he sat in the shade and what breeze there was and slowly drank his beer.

Vaguely, in the background, he could hear someone trying to talk to the bartender in mangled Spanish. He had a sudden premonition that almost immediately played itself out. A woman in an open blouse, swimsuit, shorts, and sandals plopped a backpack down on the chair next to him and flipped her sunglasses up onto the top of her head.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but do you by any chance speak both English and Spanish? I'm trying to find someplace to stay for the night and for some reason no one around here seems to speak English."

Robert took another sip of his beer before responding, "I suppose I can help you with that. How did you hear about our village?"

"I didn't. I left Belize City in a hurry and caught the first bus I could find. It came here."

Robert laughed, "So much for our advertising campaign. There are several bed and breakfast places you can stay. But they're all at siesta right now. Find a place to wait for a few hours and then you'll have no problem."

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, indicating the seat across from him.

Robert waved at the seat, "Have at it. You'll be doing me a favor by replacing my view."

She looked carefully out the window. "Good heavens! Those women are naked as the day they were born. Is this some kind of nudist colony?"

Robert sighed, "No. That's just my ladies and the weekly Naked Tea."

She looked at him in frank disbelief, "Your ladies? What? All of them?"

"No. Just the two ringleaders. And some of my staff. It's a long story. By all means, have a seat. I, too, am a prisoner of siesta."

She sat down carefully in the seat, "Why is it that you men feel compelled to dominate people? Two women? One wasn't enough?"

"Well, that's a frank question. I'll give you a frank answer. I love the feeling of having a woman responding to my control. It makes my heart beat faster and it makes my cock ache. As for more than one... that just sort of happened."

She looked at him in open shock.

"I'm sorry. I've had a bad day, but I suppose I deserved that. I'm Deirdre and I was being bitchy," she said, extending her hand.

Robert leaned over and shook her hand briefly, "Hello Deirdre, I'm Robert and I was being serious. Why are you having a bad day?"

"I caught my husband having sex with a little boy."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Deirdre. What did you do to him?"

She was shocked that he wasn't shocked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"The boy?"

"No, your husband."

"Oh," she looked pensive for a moment, "I grabbed my clothing and left the hotel. Caught a bus. I just wanted to be as far away from him as possible."

"I can understand that," Robert said, "Most of the hotels are very good about preventing that sort of thing. What hotel were you in?"

"Are you going to turn him in to the authorities?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," she confessed.

"He's raping children, Deirdre. However you might feel about it, we really should put a stop to it," he said.

"David Crumbe, room 310, Hotel Paradiso."

"Really Crumbe?"

"Yes, really," she snapped.

"Oh, well," he said. He pulled a cell-phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.

"Constable Fortin? Robert here. I'm in the bar having a drink with a Mrs. Crumbe... Yes, really Crumbe. No, I can't see the ladies, Mrs. Crumbe has kindly taken the seat across from me. You'll go blind doing that, you know. To get to the point of my call, Mrs. Crumbe informs me that her husband has a burning desire for little boys that he has been satisfying at the Hotel Paradiso. Room 310. David. Would you like to deal with it or shall I? Yes, I think that's best. I imagine she will be available to take a statement. She's my guest. Yes, it will make for an interesting evening. Thank you for your time."

"Your guest?" Deirdre asked.

"I've got plenty of room, even with the SAS in town. And the Constable will need a written statement from you."

"I'm not sure I can do that," she said.

"I'm certain you can. But let me sketch this scenario out for you. You meet Constable Fortin, who will certainly try to get into your pants, and give him a sworn statement. He will make a phone call to his superior officer. You get drunk with the SAS lads, who will also try to get you out of your pants. Constable Fortin drags his hung-over self into Belize City tomorrow afternoon and sits down in the jail with your husband. Your husband, who rapes little children, will have had a very lonely night in jail to put him in the proper mood. Constable Fortin will show him your statement. Your husband will cry. Constable Fortin will suggest that your husband might want to make a deal. He will identify the people who provided him with a child to rape. Constable Fortin is far more concerned with arresting those people. He can attack the source rather than treat a symptom. Your husband will make a statement and appear before a magistrate. He will testify, this will take about a week, and then he will be declared persona non grata and shipped back to wherever it is that you came from. Australia?"

"New Zealand."

"Never been, I hear it's lovely. You can obtain a divorce here or there. It's very simple here, despite Catholicism."

"You don't like my husband very much, do you?"

"I think," Robert said, "it's safe to say I despise him. I have very little respect for people that choose to rape children. I find grown women much more sporting. Which is why I offered to take care of things for Constable Fortin. But the last time I took care of something for Constable Fortin there was a fire."
"But no deaths?"

"Not as a result of the fire."

"Bartender, una cerveza por favor," she called, "If I'm to believe you, which I'm not sure I do, you are an admitted rapist and murderer with a burning hatred of pedophiles."

"And men who abuse women, yes."

"Didn't you just admit to being a rapist?" she demanded.

"Consistency is not a trait I possess in abundance," he replied.

"I don't believe you," she said, "I did for a minute, but pull the other one. How many women have you raped?"

"Non-consensually, although you could argue the point, the small blonde with the little tits second from the left. The athletic woman with the large breasts and short black hair next to her, you could argue, has only ever been taken consensually. But I tend to be a tad rough and controlling at times."

The bartender set a bottle of beer in front of her.

"You're bloody serious!"

"As a heart attack."

"Why should I be your guest?"

"Because my house is far nicer than any of the bed and breakfasts. Because Constable Fortin needs to speak to you and I will ensure that he has opportunity to do so. Because the SAS boys really are a great deal of fun to party with. Because people in a mild state of shock, such as yourself, are so delightfully uninhibited in their conversation. And because, being in your late thirties, you're far closer to my age than my delightful but barely post-teen bed partners. It would be nice to talk to someone with life experience. C'mon, you know you want to."

The door to Robert's house was answered by Ilse, who wasn't wearing any clothing. Robert sighed and handed her the backpack.

"Mrs. Crumbe will be staying the night. Please give her a room far away from the SAS. And what have I said about answering the door without your clothing on?"

"That it's a bad idea. But I didn't want to miss too much of the tea."

"If you answer the door in that state when the SAS arrive you will be the party."

"I might like that."

"No teen rebellion in my house. If you want to behave that way, go home to your parents."

"I'll put clothing on."

"Thank you."

"One of your bed partners?" Deirdre asked.

"Thank God, no. Her parents are very conservative members of the local Mennonite community. They argued. She won't go home and she's a fantastic cook. If she would just grow up a little bit she'd be ready to go out into the world."

As he spoke he led her through the house and into the back living room that overlooked the harbor. By his count there were fifteen women in various states of undress, drying off from swimming. Sonia saw him and bounced over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Hello, sinjoro. I thought you were making yourself scarce," she said.

"I was."

"Don't you like us naked?" one of the women called out.

"I like you entirely too much naked," he responded. "This is Mrs. Crumbe..." he began.

"Really Crumbe?" Sonia asked.

"Really Crumbe," Deirdre replied in unison with Robert. "She's going to be helping Constable Fortin with a little matter and staying for the party."

"Which means she'll be staying for the night," Sonia finished. "Did you tell Ilse to set up a room?"

"I did."

"You're a silly man, sinjoro. Ilse is a wonderful cook but she's brainless about just about anything else. Marie! Ilse is upstairs trying to set up a room for Mrs. Crumbe, please help her."

A middle-aged woman tending to heavy smiled, nodded and headed out of the room.

"I'm Sonia, Mrs. Crumbe, I belong to Robert," Sonia said, extending her hand.

"I beg your pardon?" Deirdre asked.

"I belong to Robert. I'm his slave," Sonia clarified.

"You're not supposed to shock the guests like that," Sara said as she wandered up to the group.

"But I love the look of confusion in their eyes, and the warm glow in my belly, and the punishments that follow," Sonia protested.

Sara rolled her eyes and extended her hand, "I'm Sara. Welcome to our home."

"Deirdre," she responded and shook the hand out of reflex. "Robert said he'd raped you," she blurted.

"Only about three dozen times," Sara responded, "although you could argue that I had consented. It was that or be killed, so perhaps you couldn't argue very hard. After a great deal of thought and therapy I find that I rather enjoy it. Have you tried it?"

Sonia burst into laughter. "Who's shocking the guests now?" she demanded.

"I wash my hands of this entire affair," Robert declared, "Treat Deirdre nicely, she's having a bad day. I'm retreating to the bar."

"Jes, sinjoro," Sara and Sonia responded.

Robert walked out of the room.

"He likes you," Sara declared.

"Who? Me?" Deirdre said.

"Yes. He does. Is that a good thing?" Sonia mused.

"How can you tell?" Deirdre asked.

"Because I've been warming his bed for three years. I know him," Sara stated.

"I suppose it doesn't matter what I think about it," Sonia mused, "I have no control over the matter. God that makes me hot."

"This is all somewhat overwhelming," Deirdre declared.

Sara smiled at her. "No worries, Deirdre. Take your clothes off and come have a drink. We'll explain everything. By the way, why are you having a bad day?"

The SAS were well into their second bottles before Constable Fortin made an appearance. Deirdre, who had been buzzing from the afternoon before the party ever got started, had been carried along like a leaf on the wind of events. She had actually been persuaded to remove her clothing at the tea, had told the story of finding her husband in bed with a young boy, and then her life story. After dressing she had been persuaded to wear a red leather collar on the basis of, "It's that or fend off drunken SAS troopers all night long. That's fun for some folks, but not for others. The collars just mean that we're off limits. But watch how they try and talk us into taking them off." She had been propositioned by three SAS troopers, one of them at least ten years her junior, and had drunk far too much. That hadn't helped the stories a bit. She had heard a number of stories that she was sure were far too implausible to have ever happened and was wondering if perhaps she had misheard some of them. Constable Fortin tried to interview her and declared her unfit to testify at that point in time. Then he offered to help her sober up with some vigorous exercise upstairs. She was drunk enough, and had been propositioned enough that evening, to turn the proposition into one long and exhilarating exercise in flirting.

At about three in the morning Robert announced his intention to retire for the evening, and said that he was sure the SAS troops, having fallen into his cunning trap, would be far too inebriated to perform well in the morning. To the sound of derisive hooting and taunting he walked out, accompanied by Sonia and Sara. Deirdre followed them out.

"Done for the evening, Deirdre?" asked Sara.

"I rather think I'm done for the week, Sara," she replied, "I don't even know where my room is and if I ask one of that lot to help me find it they're going to take it entirely the wrong way."

Sonia laughed. Sara smiled, "Follow us up. You're actually next door to us. The boys will be pretty loud in a little bit."

"Is your life always like this?" Deirdre asked.

"No," Robert responded, "Sometimes it's very bad. So we enjoy what we can while we can and we hold those memories tight to get us through the bad times."

"Our life is like this, but interrupted by reality from time to time," Sonia said.

"Could I try it? Just for the night?" Deirdre asked. The group stopped at the top of the steps.

"Deirdre," Sara said kindly, "Our life tonight involves going into our bedroom and sexually satisfying Robert. He's going to use us for his pleasure. The party is all downstairs."

Deirdre bit her lip for a moment before replying. "I'm drunk. Not so much on the alcohol as on the moment. I feel desirable. My husband hasn't made me feel desirable in almost a decade. And Robert is... You have two women hanging all over you, other women who clearly desire you, a mysterious past, an aura of danger.... My God but I want you to fuck me!" she declared. "Right now this collar feels good. Maybe it won't in the morning, but right now I want to be in your bed. Please?"

Sonia and Sara turned to look at Robert.

"You will obey me tonight, or there will be consequences," he declared.

"Yes sir," Deirdre responded.

"You're going to have to build another wing for your harem, sinjoro," Sonia teased.

"Silentu," he said.

"Jes, sinjoro," Sonia said.

Robert walked into the room, shedding his clothing as he went. Following the lead of Sonia and Sara, Deirdre quickly removed her clothing and dropped to her knees.

"To the wall, Sonia," Robert ordered, "You're obviously desperate for a beating. Deirdre and Sara, bring me the lash."

Sara tapped Deirdre on the shoulder and crawled over to a wardrobe against the wall. Opening it she pulled out a lash, all black suede and neatly coiled. She handed it to Deirdre and pointed at Robert with her chin. Awkwardly Deirdre crawled across the room and handed the lash to Robert.

"Dankon, Deirdre. Kneel there and observe," he commanded.

While Deirdre and Sara had been retrieving the lash, Robert had put Sonia into restraints. Her wrists were held in manacles high above her head while her legs, widely spread, were secured to rings several feet away from the wall. Robert ran the lash lightly up the inside of her legs, over her ass, and up her back. Sonia's leg muscles visibly shook and Deirdre could hear her draw in her breath.

"What are you, Sonia?" Robert asked.

"Mi estas via sklavino, sinjoro," Sonia responded.

Robert un-coiled the lash and flicked it out, letting the tips drop down the contours of Sonia's back. She hissed in reaction. Robert brought the lash around hard and the strips of leather lay down across her back, ends curving around to mold to the contours of her flank with an audible smack that made Deirdre wince. Sonia, in contrast, exhaled sharply. Compared to the hiss from before, this was almost a contented sigh.

"We all have our desires, Deirdre," he commented absently, his eyes never leaving Sonia's sinuous form. He lashed out again, catching the other side of her back, and causing her body to move against the restraints. Deirdre found the movement of Sonia's body oddly erotic.

"I love the control. I can beat Sonia all night if I want to. I can take her. Any way I want to," Robert continued. He struck her again and watched, mesmerized, as she struggled in the shackles.

"Beating her is actually somewhat distasteful to me," he said, "My experiences have made me very sensitive to many forms of brutality."

The lash struck again, wrapping itself around one of Sonia's thighs.

"But Sonia needs this," he continued. "Don't you Sonia?"

"Jes, sinjoro. Jes," Sonia breathed.

Robert wrapped the lash around her other leg and Sonia's body arched.

"But it's not the pain, is it Sonia?"

The lash struck her back again, tips roughly caressing her breasts.

"Ne, sinjoro," Sonia choked out.

"It's the context," Robert explained, "Sonia needs people to see her being a slave."

The lash struck out in rapid succession, licking roughly at her calves, thighs, ass, and back.

Sonia moaned, "Dankon, sinjoro."

"Which is why it's fortunate you're here, Deirdre. You're making this 100 times better for Sonia. Isn't that true, Sonia?" he demanded.

The lash reached around Sonia's waist, the broad strips slapping at her belly, her mons. Sonia gasped and jerked against the restraints.

"Jes, sinjoro. Oh, jes," Sonia cried.

"She can come just from this," Robert explained, "She wants to. Desperately. Tell her, Sonia."

"Very much. I want it very much, Deirdre. Oh, so much," Sonia crooned.

"Come here, Deirdre," Robert said in a voice that brooked absolutely no dissent.

Deirdre hesitantly stood up. He placed the lash into her hand. Standing behind her he brought her arm back and then forward. The lash struck Sonia and Deirdre felt a sort of wet impact transmitted back into her arm; it made her jump. Robert stood back.

"Sonia wants this, Deirdre. But you have to give it to her," Robert said.

"I don't know..." Deirdre murmured.

"Mi petegas vi, Deirdre. Please. Please, I need this. I beg you. Beat me," Sonia pleaded.

"I don't know," Deirdre repeated.

"Please," Sonia begged.

"It's a kindness, Deirdre," Robert whispered.

Deirdre drew back her arm and struck.

"Ooohhh thank you, Deirdre," Sonia moaned.

Deirdre struck again, trying to aim for Sonia's ass. She missed and tried again, and then again. With each blow Sonia's breathing grew more labored.

"Vi estas mia sklavineto, Sonia," Robert stated.

"Jes, sinjoro. Yes. Yes!" Sonia screamed as her body shook violently in the shackles.

Deirdre felt her arm restrained by Robert, aware that he was quietly telling her to stop. She dropped her arms to her side, suddenly aware that she was breathing heavily and perspiring.

Robert stepped forward to stand next to Sonia. He held her in his arms, hand stroking her back, her arms, her hair. Deirdre was struck by the tender intimacy of the moment, even as his hand pulled her head back to expose her throat to his mouth. She watched as he removed her wrists from the restraints and pulled her close to him while Sara crawled forward to release her legs.

"Crawl to Deirdre, Sonia," Robert ordered after several minutes, "Thank her for the pleasure she gave you."

Sonia, kissing at Robert's body, dropped to her hands and knees and crawled across the floor to Deirdre. She lowered her head to Deirdre's feet and kissed them softly, repeatedly.

"Thank you, Deirdre. That was wonderful," she breathed.

Deirdre felt her hands shaking and lifted them up to look at them. Robert took the lash from her hand and passed it to Sara. He pushed Sonia aside with his foot and held Deirdre's hands. He looked intently at her flushed face for several long moments.

"No," he murmured, "Not a submissive at all."

He reached up and undid the leather strap about her neck, tossing it aside. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. She gasped when she felt his lips brush hers and reached up to pull him down closer to her. She kissed him fervently, and cried into his mouth in pleasure as his hand stroked her body. She parted her legs and felt him push into her, shocked at how moist she was, how overwhelmingly excited she was. She glanced over and saw Sara and Sonia kneeling by the side of the bed, waiting for direction with lust in their eyes. She laughed and then came hard.

Sunlight and breeze were pouring into the room when Deirdre awoke. She reached over for Robert but, even half-asleep, she could tell the body she made contact with wasn't him. She sat up and looked around. Sonia and Sara were asleep on the bed next to her. Even as she tried to remember exactly what had gone on last night Sara stirred, opening her eyes and smiling at her.

"Good morning, sinjorino," she said, "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm exhausted and sore," Deirdre replied without thinking, then she blushed and covered her face with her hands.

"Was I really involved in group sex last night?" she asked.

"Yes, sinjorino. Do you regret it?" Sara responded.

Deirdre examined her memories of the night and took her hands away from her face with a sigh. "Not really," she admitted, "It was wonderful."

"I thought so to," Sara said, "even if I got short-changed. I'll have to work a little harder to make sure I get mine today. Are you hungry?"

"I'm famished," Deirdre replied, "Is there breakfast?'

"Whatever you want, sinjorino."

"Why do you keep calling me 'sinjorino'?" Deirdre asked. "Is that like 'senora'?"

Sara nodded, "It's a long story, but the term means 'lady'."

"And why, exactly, are you calling me lady?" Deirdre demanded.

"Mastro Robert commanded us," Sara replied. "He said it would do us good to obey a woman for a while." She smiled. "I've done it before, very briefly. But it's a new experience for lazy-bones over there."

Sonia groaned, "*I* was busy serving my master's pleasure. He wore me out."

"Two bruises," Sara announced cheerfully.

Sonia groaned again, "I'll be good."

"You're incapable," Sara replied. "Shall I bring you breakfast, sinjorino?" she asked Deirdre.

Deirdre looked at her in utter bewilderment. Sonia patted her hand.

"Don't think about it too hard, sinjorino. Just give the orders and we'll obey. It will work," she promised.

"Then bring me breakfast in bed, please," Deirdre managed.

Sara smiled. "Jes, sinjorino. And you get to work," she mock snapped at Sonia, "Rub Deirdre's feet."

"Jes, sklavinego," Sonia replied. As Sara slipped from the bed and padded out of the room Sonia stretched once and then crawled beneath the covers. Deirdre giggled as Sonia touched her feet and then threw back the covers.

"You don't really have to do that, you know," she said.

Sonia shook her head. "Unless you really don't want me to, please let me sinjorino. If I'm not rubbing your feet when she gets back then I'll get more than two bruises."

"She'll beat you?" Deirdre demanded.

Sonia carefully reached up and took Deirdre's foot between her hands and began to massage it. Deirdre felt Sonia's strong thumbs working the muscles and gave up, lying back to enjoy it.

"In a manner of speaking," Sonia said. "What you did last night wasn't a beating. The lash has really wide strands. It stings a lot, but it doesn't particularly hurt. That was just sex. Sara was referring to our hand to hand combat practice. Mastro insists that we know how to fight and he has a very practical take on instruction."

"Why do you need to know how to fight?" Deirdre wondered.

Sonia shrugged. "He says it's so we can better serve him. There's a grain of truth to that, but it's really because he cares deeply about us. It's also fun... from our particular perspective."

"How did you end up here, Sonia? I've read about things like this, but they seem very... fictional."

Sonia smiled. "It is strange, isn't it? But there are a lot of strange things in the world. Did you know that Sara and I went to school together?"

Deirdre shook her head.

"We did. St. Anne's. It's a sort of high-school and college rolled into one. Run by nuns. I was two years ahead of her. Sara's family is moderately wealthy and they sent Sara because she kept getting into trouble. My family has less money, but my mother is a great believer in education. We emigrated from Poland. My brother, Yurii, went to America and got his citizenship and then brought us over.

"He was a bull of a man, my brother. He was twelve years older than me and the only father figure I ever had. My father died when I was a baby and Yurii took care of the family. He started out working in restaurants and opened his own shortly after we moved to America. And he paid for me to go to a very good school where I would get an excellent education.

"Then the mob moved in. Lots of Russians have emigrated to America. In some areas the Russian Mob is... bad. They started applying pressure to Yurii. He wouldn't have any of it so they killed him. Then they came to me and told me that I was going to hand over ninety-percent of the profits to them every month. And on top of that one of them, Ivan, decided I would make a good mistress. He made terrible threats against my mother and me. I didn't know what to do.

"I remembered an e-mail I had received from Sara. Another classmate had gossiped to me, told me that Sara had run off with some sort of mercenary. So I sent Sara an e-mail asking if she knew anyone who could help me. Two days later Sara and Robert showed up on my doorstep. It was all very cloak and dagger. We put my mother on a plane and got her to a safe house. Then I spent two days being bait.
"On the third day Ivan and some of his friends showed up at closing time; to teach me a lesson in respect. Robert killed them."

Sonia paused and shifted her attentions to Deirdre's other foot.

"There's more to it than that, of course. I just don't feel comfortable talking about it. Anyway, the police showed up. Robert was arrested and put on trial for manslaughter."

"He was acquitted?" Deirdre asked.

Sonia looked at her for a long moment, visibly making a large decision.

"He was convicted. They put him in prison. So Sara informed me that she was going to free him and I asked to help. Sara did all the real work. She found some white supremacists and convinced them that we had money to finance a jailbreak. We supplied the money and they did the work."

"Where did you find the money to pay for that?" Deirdre asked in amazement.

Sonia chuckled, "Sara. We're not just slave girls, sinjorino. We have full access to Robert's accounts and she and Robert stole some diamonds in Africa. He's wealthy."

Deirdre shook her head in amazement. "That's incredible."

Sonia's smile became thin. "It gets dark in a minute. The Aryans, actually a splinter group but that doesn't matter, performed the jail break. They raided a prisoner transit bus. And when they brought Robert to us, we killed them all."

She felt Deirdre attempt to pull her foot away in shock, but she held tight, still massaging.

"It was the only way to cover our trail. I felt bad about it, but they were animals. Early on one of them decided to rape and torture us until we told them where the money was coming from and how to get it. Easier than working with women as partners. Sara killed him. With her bare hands. I don't think she even worked up a sweat doing it."

"How many did you kill?" Deirdre whispered.

Sonia shrugged again. "I only shot the one, but I helped Sara with the mines and explosives we used to kill the others. She and Robert finished off the survivors. Then we drove to an airport to dump the van and muddy the trail. We sent charter planes off to five different destinations and sailed a yacht to Guatemala."

Deirdre exhaled in horror, "You killed them?"

Sara entered the room in time to hear the question and responded herself.

"Are you telling her about Africa, America, or Belize City?" she demanded.

"America, sklavinego," Sonia replied.

Sara nodded and set a tray down on the bed next to Deirdre.

"We killed them, sinjorino. The world is a vast ocean of violence with islands of law and order. And some people mistake the islands for the world. My master moves in that world of violence with a tarnished soul that he clings tightly too. He doesn't kill or cause pain for fun and he doesn't kill when he can possibly avoid it. He keeps his word and he'll risk his life for other people. He has other, less admirable, qualities too, but I would trade fifty more criminals for his freedom without thinking twice. Partly because I believe he did good and partly because I want to be able to crawl to him."

"Why are you telling me this?" Deirdre asked, "You're all... criminals. Are you planning on...?" she looked at them in terror.

Sara laughed. "Ne, sinjorino. Ne. Nothing is going to happen to you. But you needed to know. You've seen us laughing and happy, but beneath that there are some grim realities. Robert enjoyed you last night. Not just the sex, but your company. If you're going to be around us, then you needed to know about us. All about us."

Deirdre shook her head slowly from side to side. "He said, in the bar, that he was a murderer. I didn't believe him. Not really believe him."

"Do you know about the schools, the orphanages and the clinics?" Sonia asked.

Deirdre shook her head again.

"Did he tell you about taking Ilse and twenty-one girls just like her away from the Russian Mob?" Sara asked.

Again, Deirdre shook her head.

"He's basically a decent man, sinjorino. But he's not a saint," Sara said and then changed the subject. "Ilse didn't know what you would like for breakfast. She sent up some cut fruit, some toast and jams, and some milk. If you want more just let us know and she'll have it prepared."

Deirdre took a deep breath, held it for a minute, and then let it out in a whoosh. "What do you usually have?"

"Whatever Mastro feeds us," Sonia replied.

"Three bruises," Sara declared, "Don't be flip."

She turned her gaze to Deirdre, "In this room, we must be fed by hand, sinjorino. Or you could put a plate on the ground for us. We aren't allowed to use our hands. I prefer toast with strawberry jam when I'm being hand-fed, oatmeal when I'm not."

Deirdre gaped at them for a full minute before deciding they were serious. Wide-eyed, she began to put some jam on a piece of toast.

"Is there anything else I should know?" she asked, half expecting some new horror.

"Mastro really likes it when you moan while you're sucking his cock," Sonia announced, "The vibrations drive him over the edge."

Deirdre froze with a spoonful of jam in mid-air. She looked at Sonia who was smiling. She looked at Sara who was rolling her eyes. Her mind ran through a dozen possible responses. Then she decided.

"And another bruise for being cheeky," she declared.

True to her word, and obedient to her orders, Sara gave Sonia four bruises later that afternoon. Deirdre watched in fascination as the two women grappled in the stables courtyard. She was no expert, but she guessed that both of the women were competent fighters. They certainly seemed to go at with a real will and the bruises that Sonia sported were certainly nothing minor.

"But why naked?" Deirdre asked.

Sonia and Sara, both sweating heavily, traded sly looks before Sonia answered.

"Mastro likes to see us naked and sweaty, sinjorino. Sometimes, he gets so carried away by his lusts that he takes us right here. We like that," she smiled.

Deirdre laughed. "You're shameless," she declared.

Sara shrugged. "Nothing to be ashamed of, sinjorino. We're good sex slaves."

"Yes, you are," Robert announced as he walked into courtyard. A long train of men leading horses followed him in through the gate. Deirdre recognized the SAS men from the night before and Constable Fortin. Sonia and Sara slipped down onto their knees.

"Mrs. Crumbe!" Fortin exclaimed, "You're not chained to a bed. While somewhat disappointing this does mean we can finish your statement and then move on to more pleasurable pursuits."

Deirdre laughed. "Have you been playing in the jungle, Constable?"

"Christ no! I am far too experienced for that sort of nonsense. I was the referee between these over aged children." He climbed down from his horse, turning it over to a groom. "Among other things that means that while this lot are washing jungle filth off of themselves I'll have you to myself. Let me show you where Robert keeps his good liquor."

Deirdre glanced at Robert, who nodded, and then walked off with Constable Fortin.

They ate an early dinner on the living-room porch, Robert and Deirdre seated while Sara and Sonia knelt next to them.

"Your games went well then?" Deirdre inquired.

"Well enough," Robert replied, "The SAS soundly trounced us, but we made them work damn hard to do it. I think the next time they're out we'll have a few surprises for them. The troops were already discussing lessons learned when we left them. Crawling around in the jungle can be fun when no one is shooting at you for real. But I'm thinking about bringing in a real trainer for them. Maybe one of the SAS men; a retiree. Frankly I'm not the best trainer in the world."

"Juanita Alvarez says her brother and some of his friends want to join the militia," Sara reported.

"Jose Alvarez has a head filled with fantasies of martial glory," Robert retorted. "At least the Africans have an appreciation of what combat is really like." He fed Sonia a morsel of food and smiled at her.

"They feel like second class citizens, sinjoro," Sara pressed, "They grumble that you think of them as peasants and don't trust them. It's a sore and should be dealt with before it becomes infected."

"And knowing you as I do, you have a solution. Okay, there's a problem. How do you propose to solve it?" he asked.

"A real militia," Sara answered. "Belize recognizes dual citizenship, even if the United States doesn't. You arrange to become a citizen of Belize and set up a militia. In fact, you arrange for all the Africans to become citizens of Belize. Then you set up a real militia. Bring in some trainers and accept some local recruits. Belize gets an improved army without having to pay for it, you get a legitimate militia, and we set down some roots instead of acting like the wealthy foreigners. The locals will know that we trust and value them, and it will give them something to be proud of. Being a soldier is a high status job in Belize; the Defense Force gets three applicants for every position they have available."

Robert chewed his food in silence for several minutes as he mulled the idea. Deirdre, Sara, and Sonia ate quietly while they waited for him to speak.

"Have you already talked to Wesley about this?" he asked.

"Ne, sinjoro," Sara replied, "I wouldn't do that without talking to you first."

"I think it's a good idea. Wesley has already been pushing for some active patrols to deal with the Guatemalan border encroachment. At least this way I'd have official support higher up the chain of command. Do you have any other ideas about how we can blend with the local population?" Robert said.

Sara looked apprehensive for a moment. "You could take Ilse on as your third slave," she told him.

"No," he said firmly, "absolutely not. She's barely eighteen years old and she doesn't have a clue."

"She's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, sinjoro," Sara agreed, "but I've talked to her. She's developed a real hero complex about you. She's like me; she gets separation anxiety when you aren't around. She's going to see a therapist about this, I insisted. But she has a good grasp of how shitty life can be and she has a well thought out plan for her life. She wants to be your head cook and she wants to be in your bed. She really is attracted to you, but she also sees being your slave as her ticket to legitimacy."

"Run that by me again, please. Slowly this time. She thinks that being my slave will what?" Robert demanded.

Sara took a deep breath. "Who runs your household, sinjoro?"

"You and Sonia," he replied. "Oh crap..."

Sara nodded. "Exactly. Just about everyone in the world thinks of slaves as being the lowest of the low. But with us it's just roles that we prefer. You always treat us with respect and you gave us positions of considerable authority. It's like the Janissaries. They were warrior slaves and ended up rulers. And there are only two of us, so our positions are not regarded as menial, but as elite. Which means some of the smarter girls have already been sucking up to us in hopes of advice and introductions."

"This is what happens when you have smart slaves," Robert pointed out to Deirdre, "They start to think and then all sorts of strange things begin to happen. Are you seriously suggesting a harem?" he asked Sara.

"Who really ran the army in the Congo?" Sara asked and then answered her own question. "The women. The women who cooked the meals, cleaned the clothing, organized the supplies, helped the doctors, and kept the papers. The same women the troops were beating and raping every night. You knew this. You told me George would destroy the army because he didn't understand how important the women were. What I am suggesting is that it makes sense to have a staff of dedicated servants who are bonded to you personally."

"Sonia? What do you think of this?" Robert asked.

Sonia shrugged. "Honestly I think it's going to cut into my sex, sinjoro. But putting my personal desires aside, it makes a certain kind of sense. It's not the only way to go, and it might not be the best way to go, but it would work. If her fears are anything like Sara's then she's not going to go away. If she's going to be part of your household anyway then you might as well bring her into your bed. I've seen the way you avoid looking at her, sinjoro. You want her."

"But I'm not in the habit of thinking with my dick," Robert retorted. He sighed. "I make a real effort to be decent and God puts imps like these around me," he complained. "What do you think, Deirdre?"

"I think you're all insane," she answered cheerfully "and I have to go back to New Zealand to put my affairs in order. But I would listen to your women, Robert. They're smart and they care about you. Think about how it will affect the rest of your staff though, will they be jealous?"

"You're leaving?" Sonia asked.

Deirdre nodded. "I want to go back before David is shipped back. I don't think I want to see him again. This way I can clear out my things without him around. My life is a shambles right now, and I need to know what I want it to look like when I put it back together."

"That makes sense," Robert said, "both your point about jealousy and your plan to go home. Will you be back?"

"Oh I think so," Deirdre replied, "At the very least this is going to be where I take my yearly vacation."

"We'll miss you, sinjorino," Sonia said, "Mastro has a light hand with the lash when he isn't actually meting out punishment. I enjoyed serving you."

"You could go with her, Sonia," Robert said gently.

Sonia shook her head emphatically. "No. Not unless you order me to, sinjoro. I mean no offence, sinjorino, I really do enjoy serving you and I hope you return quickly, but my heart is here."

Deirdre brushed her hand across her eyes, blinking back the tears she felt forming. "Thank you, Sonia. It was a pleasure to have you serve me. I mean that."

"When?" Sara asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Deirdre replied, "Sooner started, sooner done."

"Then we had best make the most of this evening," Robert declared.
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