Belize Adventure

"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.