Wednesday, September 17. 22:12 hours.

Álex's vision at his feet momentarily left Jorge stunned. Without a doubt, the poor guy was traumatized by the experience.

—Come on, just go in already.

—Yes, Master.

He stood up and entered the suite. Jorge barely concealed his lustful gaze.

—I think a waiter will come to take our dinner order soon because I'm starving —Jorge wanted to joke—. What do you want? I mean, I don't want to embarrass myself by asking in front of the waiter, we don't even know if he'll bring you the same things as me.

—Whatever you order will be fine, my Master.

Since Álex had entered, he had stood there, motionless, his hands clasped behind him and his gaze on the floor, in a servile attitude. Jorge found it unbearably sexy, but he began to think that maybe he was crossing a line and who knows if Álex was mocking him just a little.

—Stop it, Álex, what do you want me to order?

The young man seemed hesitant.

—A hamburger with fries, Coca Cola, and some fruit would be great, Master —he said timidly.

—Wow, that took you a while. And enough with the "Master," I've had enough of that, I'll tell you why later. They told me the interrogation went well, but when we are alone, it's not necessary… or are there cameras here? —he said, thinking that maybe that justified Álex's pantomime—. What we needed… but no, I don't think so, to be honest.

At that moment, there were two knocks at the door, and as he had seen Kamar do earlier, he didn't reply. A waiter as black as coal opened the door, smiled, and made a huge bow.

—The illustrious lord can now order any dinner he likes.

—Don't you have a menu?

—Menu? I don't understand, sir… just tell me directly what you want and we will serve it.

Jorge thought of mocking a bit of such arrogant superiority. They were going too far.

—Oh, well, then bring a triple Angus hamburger with cheese and fries, several sauces… what else… four cans of Coca Cola, chocolate cake —he mentally started with his list—. Onion soup, cod in pil pil, potato omelet without onion, and… mandarins.

—Shall I serve it in the suite's dining room, my lord?

—Uh… yes, yes, but please don't take too long, it's really late.

—As soon as possible, of course, my lord.

Jorge was sure they weren't going to bring such Spanish food, they probably didn't even know what it was. But still, the little black boy wasn't bad, Jorge thought. He noticed that the waiter was glancing sideways at Álex.

—Would you like food for the slave, toys, a cage, or anything else?

—No, no, nothing, I'll give him some leftovers if anything.

—Of course, my lord, it will be as you command. May I leave?

—Yes, thank you.

The little black boy bowed at a ninety-degree angle and ...