of Kid’s anus with one spit-slick finger. His boy’s pussy is small.
“It’s my asshole,” he sobs. “You know it’s my asshole. Stop it!” He devolves into wails of despair. “I didn’t do anything! Please…I didn’t do it.”
Felipe decides to remove the blindfold, unsurprised when the boy asks him not to—it’s his only shield against his own debasement. Kid keeps his eyes determinedly closed. “Open your eyes, pretty boy; let me see.” A moment later: “Right now.” When Kid remains disobedient: “Do it, or I’ll open you without lubrication.” Felipe’s finger continues its gentle twirl around Kid’s rim.
Seemingly calling upon every scrap of self-preservation, Kid timidly opens his eyes. Felipe gives him time to adjust to the bright light in the room reflecting off the onyx tile. The boy doesn’t dare to acknowledge Felipe, just keeps his eyes on the drain in the floor.
Felipe’s arousal reaches new heights when confronted by the younger man’s timid responses to having his tight little asshole gently worked. The boy’s warm breath puffs across Felipe’s cheek with every muted gasp and subsequent exhale. Felipe gently prods his rim and Kid shuts his eyes tight and whimpers. Felipe’s head falls forward so he can whisper things in a litany of Spanglish against his young lover’s neck. “ Open your eyes. I know, sweet boy… so tight… Celia… clever girl… we’re going to have so much fun with you.” Felipe is starting to sweat and his finger gets bolder with every pass over the boy’s hairless pucker.
“Lube!” Kid bellows. “You promised.” Fat, salty tears and watery snot trickle toward his quivering mouth. He keeps his eyes to the left of Felipe and focused on the floor; they close briefly as Felipe’s palm cups his moist cheek and turns his head to face him. Felipe stares into vibrant blue eyes.
“Let me set your mind at ease, beautiful boy. One day soon, you’ll beg me to come inside you.” He taps his finger on Kid’s hole. “Until then, you’ll appease me with your submission or I’ll rid myself of the nuisance you present. Am I understood?” Kid’s affirmative reply is softly spoken between them. “Good. Now…what is this?”
Kid’s face is a study in misery. He shatters like glass and his voice sounds just as broken. “My pussy.”
“And whom does this pussy belong to, boy?”
“To you,” Kid submits.
“All together, boy. I like to hear it.” He slides his finger over Kid’s perineum and around his hole in a never-ending circuit.
“Please,” Kid begins before the look on Felipe’s face gives him pause and he gives himself over fully. “My pussy belongs to you, Felipe.”
“And are you going to let me fuck your pussy one day, boy?” His question is met with silence, and then…
“Yes.” It’s barely audible.
“Say it.”
“I’m going to let you fuck my pussy.” Kid appears surprised by his own words.
“Yes,” Felipe whispers with a hint of triumph, “we understand each other now.” He unzips his pants with his free hand while the other carries on its previous attentions. Laughter rumbles out of him as the younger man startles and his boy pussy instinctively shrinks away from his formerly—and deliciously subconscious—accepted touch. “There’s just one more thing left to do, and then you may have a reward.”
“What are you gonna do?” Kid mewls. He is every bit his nineteen years—all man on the outside, still a boy in his heart.
Felipe is struck by the young man’s innocence. He was satisfied before, but for the first time has no doubts he had nothing to do with the attempted rape or beating of Caleb’s slave. Kid may have been associated with a group of drug-running outlaws, but the boy is no man of action. Not like Felipe, or Rafiq, or Caleb—if they are wolves, Kid is a wounded lamb. A delicate feeling takes up residence in his chest and quickly travels south. He will show mercy, he decides. “Celia