Determined to Obey

by C. J. Roberts

  He tries to resist it, but he smiles, if a bit warily. He speaks, but his words are indecipherable to Celia. "We are wordist people you meet? What is wordist?" Celia's nose is wrinkled as though the word tastes bad in her mouth.

  Kid genuinely laughs; the sound of it pleases Celia. "Weirdest...it means strange. You and Felipe...you're...strange."

  She grins. "I'll delight in showing you how peculiar your new bed partners are."

  "I heard monster? Cowboy, and bed."

  Celia laughs throatily. "We tich eashother how to spek. Felipe will help us in the beginning. He would never pass up the opportunity to play out his student-teacher fantasies."

  "Yeah, okay, that sounds good. What'd you say about Felipe?"

  The young man in Celia's bed is refreshing. Things had been stale lately, but the past few days have brought much-needed excitement to her and Felipe's tiny world of two. Between Kid, Caleb, and Kitten, her master never wants for entertainment, and she knows he is watching her and this boy from his secret room. She drags her bewildered pet on top of her and wraps her limbs around him; her eyes are directed toward Felipe's 'hidden' camera. "Come here, sweet boy, let me make you feel better." She cups Kid's rounded behind and smiles when she discovers tiny hairs standing on end and gooseflesh.

  Kid holds himself perfectly still until he is firmly gripped and pulled forward by his flank. He braces his body, unwilling to crush her with his weight; Celia takes advantage of the opportunity to guide Kid's shy erection into her. Kid groans.

  "Good boy," Celia says affectionately. "You are not scared." She kicks the sheet down to the foot of the bed with her legs, exposing the scene. She urges Kid to thrust with her hands and feet on his ass. She feels the exact moment of his acquiescence; he melts into her with a whimper and makes short, slow, and ardent thrusts into her.

  Celia opens for her lover, folds her knees, and bends nearly in half to allow him to lick the inside of her mouth and stay buried to the hilt. His desperation is her aphrodisiac; she clenches her muscles. "He feels so good inside me," she mewls. The boy's rhythm falters and picks up speed. "He...mmm...thinks the deeper he can...yes, baby boy, right there...bury himself...the longer he can hide."

  28. Kid

  Kid isn't listening to a word Celia is saying. He likes the way she sounds in his ear though--pliant, encouraging, and aching for it. Hours ago, she was raping his mouth with a rubber dick, and now she's wet, flushed, and open beneath him. Touch. Connection. Comfort. Celia is all of them. Kid lifts her torso so he can hook his arms under her and grip her shoulders. He wants them pressed together like they were never meant to be apart. They're all gone. I'm all alone. He thrusts as slowly as he can, unwilling to let his fear enter. "Celia," he pants and searches for her mouth. He comes before he's willing and stays inside until he slips out wetly.

  29. Celia

  Celia's tummy flutters. She takes every drop her precious boy has to give, swallowing him deep into her barren womb. She runs her fingernails lightly over Kid to feel him shiver. She smiles morosely into the camera. "I didn't come. Tomorrow we'll have to teach him manners." She sighs. "Goodnight, master."

  30. Kid

  The first several days are jarring.

  Every morning, Kid wakes to the realization he is not in his bed. Soon after, he recalls he's being held in a house full of people who want to either murder or molest him. His heart always races afterward, and he tries to go back to sleep, only to find all he can see is his uncle's disembodied head and his empty eyes staring at him. From the moment he is awake, he knows the day is going to test him. He invariably huddles closer to Celia, who speaks soft, unintelligible words to him. They give him hope in spite of his inability to translate them. He has no family, no friends, and no say over his fate, but he clings to the hope he is somehow not alone in the world. He matters. To someone. He has to.

  His afternoons are a torturous affair. Kid never knows what devious thing Felipe or Celia have planned, but he knows one or both of them has something to contribute to his 'training'. Once or twice, Kid has made the mistake of thinking Celia is the lesser evil between the two, only to learn they are interchangeable in all the ways that matter. Felipe uses skilled intimidation to bend Kid toward his will; Celia uses expert seduction to bring him to his knees--they both know how to break him. Every afternoon, he abandons his pride and surrenders his body, and little by little, he can feel himself giving up something far more important.

  Evening heralds the worst part of Kid's day--when Felipe insists on bathing Kid before bed. It's always just the two of them--and Felipe's stern-looking watchdog Reynaldo--in the vast but intimate space of Celia's bathroom. Felipe praises him for his obedience throughout the day and gently criticizes his hesitancies. The ritual of forced familiarity between them causes Kid great distress for a variety of reasons. He experiences twinges of guilt for his supposed failures, made more poignant after Felipe's fervent praise.

  Kid shouldn't want to please Felipe, or Celia for that matter, and he doesn't...it's just...he hates displeasing them so much more. He turns his head to the side when Felipe starts to rub off on him. He grows increasingly worried over the few times his own penis has stirred; it happens most when Felipe's warm seed spatters over Kid's cock. The younger man accepts Felipe's presented fingers, because he knows he is expected to do so without question. He is both glad and wary of the fact Felipe's taste is becoming less abhorrent with each offering.

  Bedtime is his favorite time of day, because he gets to lie down next to Celia and be normal. She calls him Kid and he calls her Celia. He fucks her and she lets him do it however he wants--he opts for missionary with lots of kissing. No mistress. No slave. Nothing kinky. Kid has good reason to be angry with Celia and to avoid her; she is no different from her master. She is equally twisted in her desires, loves to see him cry and beg and come all over himself as Felipe plays voyeur, but Kid can't bring himself to resist her sinister allure. There is the illusion of safety inherent in her femininity; he feels less threatened and insecure.

  Kid rolls onto his back, sweaty and sated, knowing that another trial waits in the morning. He shuts his eyes to avoid it.

  ***

  There is something happening, some plot, or betrayal--Kid isn't stupid--he knows. Felipe's had a lot of visitors lately; mean looking guys who like to talk in hushed tones. Kid is usually sent away soon after the conversations begin, but a few times he's been ignored and allowed to stay. He sort of wishes he hadn't been.

  Kid doesn't want to consider the possibility more violence is on its way. He's just started to believe he might be...okay, not happy, or perfect, or not metaphorically shitting his pants every now and again...but--things are...okay. Kid has never been so well-fed in his life. A week ago, he tried something called creamy pappardelle; it had bacon in it, and these crunchy things called leeks. Delicious.

  Celia is teaching him Spanish. Kid is teaching her English in return, but she isn't as good a student. Kid believes it's because he doesn't get to spank her every time she gets the alphabet sounds wrong. He learns shockingly fast by comparison; his ass is more ruddy than red lately.

  True, Felipe and Celia run him ragged on a daily basis, and they're always asking him to do embarrassing crap like dress up in ridiculous costumes--two weeks ago, Celia outfitted him as a pony and rode him around the mansion dressed as a Lady. Kid had been relieved to know only the skeleton house staff and Celia's security detail could witness his shame, as Caleb and Kitten were rarely seen outside the typical guest areas and Felipe was out on an errand for a few days. But then, while still in costume, Celia commanded him to mount her 'like a stallion' on Felipe's sixteen person dining table and Kid suddenly lost his distaste for wearing ears and a tail. He came fast and hard.

  And yes, Kid and Felipe still have their nightly ritual, and Kid still resists the older man's advances. Although, he's given up on trying not to get hard when Felipe starts rubbing his pants against his bare cock and circling the rim of his asshole so gently K
id wants to scream; the worst nights are after he's been kept on edge all day.

  So things aren't ideal--they're better than they've been in a long time. Kid is worried it's all about to change again. He hears the name Rafiq a lot. Rafiq needs to show more respect. Rafiq cannot hold the shipments. If Rafiq wants more product he has to buy it from us, not Caesar and his idiot brother. Something will have to be done about Rafiq.

  The Night Devils are--were--small time, only a step or two above the street dealers. Felipe works on a global scale. He's most likely supplied Kid the weed for every joint he's ever rolled. Men like Felipe tend to die bloody. If Felipe is in danger, they all are.

  31. Celia

  Her boy is fitful. Celia can feel him tossing and turning, huffing and puffing; she can practically hear him thinking.

  "Celia," he finally speaks into the darkness, "are you awake?"

  "No. Sleeping," she mumbles. "You sleep too." She half-heartedly emphasizes her request with a kick to Kid's shin. She doesn't bother to stifle her giggle as Kid hisses in pain.

  "Punk-ass, can't believe you kicked me," he says without heat. Celia turns and they share a look before saying in unison, "Language, boy!" in a parody of Felipe's scandalized tone.

  Celia sighs. "I wish he come home. I don't like when he's away. If he meet another woman and she steal his heart?" She doesn't typically entertain those types of thoughts, but every now and again, she wonders if she's still enough for her master--considering.

  Kid scrunches his face. "What? Trust me, that would never happen. Felipe worships the ground you walk on. No way he'd give you up."

  She smirks. It's nice to share these moments with someone. Kid is very sweet. "You sound certain of whatever it is you're saying."

  "You didn't get that?"

  "Enough." She switches to English and continues, "Felipe is complicated man. He say he is happy, but...he always want more. He is...how do you say? Oportunista."

  "An opportunist."

  "Yes. He would not...leave us, but he maybe..." Celia's eyes mist with tears. "It's possible that one day he will find someone to give him what neither of us ever can."

  "What are you talking about? You give him everything. I have no idea why he keeps me around, other than to have someone to tease."

  Celia laughs softly. She reaches into the sheets and tugs her young lover closer by his hand. His skin was much rougher a month ago; though, he still has grease stains beneath his fingernails. One day she will beg Felipe to let her go for a motorcycle ride with Kid. She cannot remember a time she's gone anywhere without an armed detail. Her father was an overbearing asshole, and Felipe worries too much. Kid worries too much too. "He like you, protect you, keep you. Do not worry."

  32. Kid

  Kid rolls his eyes but leaves it at that, because Celia's words make him want to squirm in a way that feels less and less like disgust, and more like...butterflies in his stomach, or some girly crap like that. He'd be lying if he didn't admit to growing more curious about what his life could be like if he gave himself over to the life Celia and Felipe are offering.

  "How did you, with Felipe, end up?" Kid stumbles through his Spanish. He can understand it much better than he can speak it, but his fluency is on the rise, much to his master and mistress' delight.

  33. Celia

  Celia's smile takes on a devilish quality. "He took me as a trophy after he destroyed my father. It put fear into the hearts of anyone who would dare oppose him. Fuck with Felipe Villanueva and he will murder you in your home and steal your daughter for his concubine. Quite effective."

  "Why does that make you smile? He killed your father! He took you prisoner!" Kid says caustically and full of reproach. Celia finds his anger ignorant and incendiary. She won't tolerate it.

  "You are prisoner too!" Celia snaps in English. "Felipe takes what he believes he is owed and nothing more. For years I begged him to kill my bastard of a father. I offered myself to him as payment; he refused. But little did I know he would deliver me vengeance one day and demand I make good on my promise.

  "He had my father's empire, but it wasn't enough and I've been with him ever since. Do not presume to know our master. He has his own honor and we are lucky to have inspired his affections." She glares at Kid, the insolent little brat.

  Kid's indignation wilts under the heat of Celia's death stare. "I didn't really get all that, but I get that Felipe sort of did you a favor. My bad; I don't know the guy that well, except for the fact he's always trying to fuck me."

  Celia laughs. "He is not."

  Kid balks. "Uh, yeah, he fucking is. He's always talking about...well, you're there--cheering him on." The boy sneers. "You always take his side--always--and it's not fair. I never have a say."

  Kid pouts and Celia's stomach can't help but flutter. He's utterly naive; it makes her long for her own long-lost innocence. Felipe is devout and steadfast in his seduction, and she knows in her heart that one day she will surrender to his will. He will own her, body, mind, and soul. She will keep fighting against it, but one day... "Felipe save your life. He feel he own it. But your spirit, you have to give him. He wants you to give to him. He'll seduce your body until it craves him. He'll worship you until you feel the intense desire to be worthy of such devotion. You can only think of his happiness and the way it shines on you, makes you feel weak and invincible all at once." She wistfully looks toward the hidden camera in her room. She knows Felipe will watch the playback. He always does.

  "Yeah," Kid says, "I get it. If he was going to do it, he would've by now. That right?" His face tells Celia he isn't finished speaking; he seems exasperated. "I just...why's he gotta try and make me ask for it. It's bullshit. I'm the prisoner. Why doesn't he just take what he obviously wants and lemme be?"

  Celia knows well the turmoil Kid suffers; she's felt it in one way or another for several years. It is her deepest hope that one day she and Felipe will move on from the hardships of the past toward a fulfilling future. Felipe's intentions in gifting her with Kid as a companion are either a stepping stone toward that future, or a white flag.

  "Would you like to hear a secret?" Celia adjusts herself onto her back so she can stare toward the camera.

  "I'm not gonna get my ass kicked for knowing, am I? 'Cause if so, I'd rather you didn't tell me."

  Celia is charmed by Kid on a consistent basis. "You are silly." She takes a deep breath. Her smile slowly drops. "Felipe and me...we don't make sex."

  Kid props himself up on one elbow; his shock and incredulity is painted all over his face. "That's bullshit. You had sex on top of me the first time I met you!" He apologizes quietly when Celia angrily clucks her tongue and shakes her head.

  "Don't interrupt. I meant to say we don't...do it the natural way." She places a hand between her legs for emphasis.

  "You don't let him fuck your pussy?" Kid looks doubtful and sputters on, "But that's crazy! You're his bitch." He hisses a breath and rubs at the sting across his cheek.

  Celia pops her knuckles by making a fist and then shakes out her hand. "Language, slave, or I will tell master on you. I am not a bitch!" She crosses her arms under her breasts.

  "No, Celia, not like that." Kid lowers himself to the mattress, holding his reddened cheek. "You're not a bitch. A bitch is a girl--I mean--I--we--used to call girls that when they belonged to one of the guys. I'm sorry." Kid stares up at her, contrite. "Please...don't tell Felipe."

  "Okay," Celia huffs, "but you don't say anymore. I am a slave, but no one own me. I am not a bitch." She turns her back on Kid and stares into the darkness of the room. It's not often she allows her emotions to get the better of her, but Kid and his crass sincerity can be too much sometimes.

  A single tentative finger touches Celia's back. "Celia?" When she doesn't rebuke him, Kid shifts closer, his palm delicately pressed against her spine. "Please, don't be mad at me. I didn't mean it like that."

  Truthfully, Celia is not angry. She fears the pinprick behind her eyes that signal the onset of tear
s--real tears--the ones she no longer allows. She has often questioned her relationship with Felipe, the love she has for him...the lingering spite. She has been keeping a close watch on Kitten and her master Caleb since they arrived, and the similarities between their relationship and her own consume her as the weeks pass. She can see the seed of love sprouting, growing, and it makes her ache; that, coupled with her new slave's open heart, conspire to undo years of practiced contempt.

  "My father was a powerful man." Her voice is firm, steady, and devoid of emotion. She cannot feel this anymore, to allow it would mean her father still lived. "There was nothing he could not do and no one he could not have. His power was absolute. He took my mother from her family when she was only fourteen. She died giving birth to me." Celia keeps her eyes firmly on the wall at the other side of the room, but she allows her young lover to nestle in close behind her. Kid craves affection like she once craved freedom. She does not deny him if she can help it, and right at this moment, their needs coincide.

  "He kept me instead of sending me to the orphanage. I think he even loved me in his own way; he doted on me. I had the best tutors, wore the finest dresses; I had my own servants. But my father's attentions came at a steep price.

  "I grew up beautiful...like my mother, he said, the first time he took me. I was twelve, and he was not gentle with me."

  "Celia..." Kid pulls her into his body with a despondent sound. "No," he says, like he can erase the past by simply willing it. "I'm so sorry," he whispers.

  An old pain ripples through Celia. Her lover is genuine and kind...sincere. He is nothing like her and Felipe, who trust no one and place their pride above even each other. She swallows thickly, and moments later, goes numb. "No sorry. It was long time ago. Do not pity me--it's for the weak. I'm only telling you so you understand your place."

  "Yes, Celia," Kid replies carefully.