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Authors: Cj Roberts

BOOK: Determined to Obey
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22. Felipe

Felipe chuckles. “Of course not. There’s nothing incestuous about what we’ll do with you, boy. I’m simply offering what you clearly lack—a mother figure to hold you, and a father to guide you—approval they can no longer give you—discipline you never learned.”

“You’re…crazy! You can’t just treat me like some kid; I’m grown.” Kid is a weeping mess, but he’s careful not to curse.

“Not to me!” Felipe groans and plants his face in the crook of Kid’s neck as he comes in thick spurts over the boys genitals. He smells Celia. Pressed along the younger man’s displayed body, he indulges in the mingled scents of semen, vagina, and Kid’s fear-tinged sweat. He moans, and much to the relief of his new bedmate, slides his finger away from the boy’s pussy. He leans away to look at his new ward; he’s exquisite. Celia knows his preferences remarkably well. Kid is flushed all over with embarrassment. His sobs echo around the room. Still, the boy keeps his eyes on Felipe. Belatedly, he gathers up some of his fluids from Kid’s stomach and brings them up to the boy’s mouth. “Show me what a good boy you’re going to be for me.”

Kid recoils with a violated shudder. “Come on, man.” He outright screams when the force of Felipe’s open palm sends his face to one side.

“That is not how a good boy replies!” Felipe reprimands, even as he uses the same hand to soothe the red mark on Kid’s cheek. “Don’t you want to be my good boy?” he asks more softly and sighs when the only response is an elongated cry. He’s not made of stone. “You’re going to be a willful little boy, I can already tell.” Felipe infuses as much tenderness as he can manage toward Kid into his words. He strokes the boy’s hair until he has his breathing under better control. “There,” he croons, “there’s my boy. He’s so good. So brave. Deep breaths…that’s it. Be brave for me now. Be the good boy I know you are.” A wave of haughty satisfaction crashes over him and he laments his inability to get hard again so soon as the boy slows his breaths and lets his eyes gently glaze over. He scoops up more come.

23. Kid

Kid doesn’t know why he opens his mouth to Felipe’s fingers; the act seems natural. The taste faintly registers. He hears only praise and feels only comfort. Kid wants more gentle touches, more worshipful words spoken softly into his ear…more…more…more.
I can be brave. I can be good. Don’t leave me. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.
The older man has him enthralled.

24. Felipe

“Such a sweet boy.” Felipe kisses the boy’s sweaty head and runs his come-coated fingers though his mussed strands. He is completely unsurprised by the way Kid leans into the possessive touches. It’s obvious what the younger man has been missing and Felipe intends to give it to him. And if Felipe takes what he craves from him in return, well, he supposes it’s only as it should be. “You were perfect, Kid. I couldn’t have asked for a better boy.” Kid whimpers. “Would you like your reward?”

“Yes, Felipe,” Kid says in monotone.

“Very well, after I bathe you, I will take you to Celia and you may sleep with her in her bed. I know she’s eager to apologize for thrashing you in front of our guests…but it was the only way to convince Caleb and Rafiq to place your punishment in our hands. Forgive her, won’t you?”

Kid sniffles, “Yes, Felipe.” He adds, “Thank you,” unexpectedly.

“You’re very welcome.”

25. Celia

“Celia,” Kid whispers in the dark. “I know you don’t speak English so good, but do you understand it?” He curls himself, nude and still damp from his shower, closer to Celia.

“Little bit,” she replies gently.
“I grasp more than Felipe suspects, but less than he would like. Do you understand me?”

Kid huffs sarcastically, “All I got was ‘Felipe suspects’ and ‘do you understand me’. Is that close?”

“Little bit,” she replies. She grins into the boy’s hair and keeps stroking him. Her young lover suffers so superbly. Just the thought of cracking him open and forcing him to spill all his pain into her waiting lap has her achingly wet. Felipe is such a good master. He gives her only the best offerings…and she only accepts the ones of benefit to her master in equal measure.

26. Kid

Celia rolls her hips and Kid shudders. Sex is the last thing he wants and the only thing he can think about. He’s been rescued, molested, beaten, and maybe raped—he’s not sure if a dildo in his mouth counts. It’s been a hell of a fucking day, and all he wants is for this striking, cruel goddess to hold him like a fucking baby and rock him to sleep. “I’m scared,” he says lowly. “I know men aren’t s’pose to say stuff like that, but…every time I close my eyes, I see blood.” He’s fairly certain Celia doesn’t follow what he’s saying, though, the way her arms pull him closer so she can kiss his temple suggests she recognizes what he needs. “My whole life is over, like I never existed. I’m gonna die here and no one is even gonna care.”

27. Celia

The boy is sobbing again, and no matter how sadistic Celia can be, she cannot abide him thinking he’s worthless. She and Felipe will humiliate the boy in every conceivable fashion, but they will never let him think he is unwanted or unworthy. He is precious. “We care,” she says fervidly and tips the boy’s chin back so she can stare into those pleading blue eyes. “Felipe and me, we are good to you. You our good boy.” She bites his lips playfully. “So pretty.”

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 Kid 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.

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