5. One more day.

5. One more day

Thursday, September 18. 07:53 hours.

Upon waking, he looked at the beautiful pendulum clock in the room and calculated that the time he had slept was insufficient to metabolize all the alcohol he consumed the night before. Jorge gradually began to wake up. He felt a warm, wet sensation on his penis, and then realized that Alex was still sucking him, lovingly caressing him with his tongue. He pulled it out immediately, feeling immense regret tinged with shame and dressed in a hangover, since half a liter of whiskey was a lot for him. He didn’t know what to say or how to behave after what had happened the night before… last night…

“Good morning, Alex.”

“Good morning, my Master, I hope you slept well, Master. Your slave has been happy with your sacred penis in his mouth, as you ordered. If you want anything from me, I am your humble slave, command and I obey, Master,” Alex said without daring to look up.

It was evident that the soma was indeed reaching its peak effect in the athletic body of the Russian boy, who had been awake and ecstatic all night performing his oral tasks. In a few hours, Jorge's flight would leave, but first, he had to have breakfast and then meet with that Kamar to settle the inheritance issue. It was time to take a shower, but looking at Alex's beautiful naked body and his cute butt, he thought he hadn’t had sex with him yet, it seemed unbelievable; he let the entire night pass and nothing… well, not nothing, as he remembered the intense orgasms at his expense and how he provoked them. Yes, but now he didn’t dare to have sex, maybe at that hour they would bring breakfast… indeed, some activity could already be heard, and the sun had been up for a while; these were not the schedules of Spain, where at that hour most people were getting up or still under the sheets. Ah, but no one could take away another blow job.

“Eat my cock, slave.”

Jorge sat up in bed, feet on the floor and his penis still flaccid. Alex got off the bed where he had been lying and sucking his Master’s penis for the last few hours. With agility, he knelt down, placed his hands behind his back, gripping his wrists, and brought his mouth back to Jorge’s penis, saying with all devotion:

“Yes, Master.”

Then Jorge alarmingly saw that Alex's lips were hugely swollen and crossed by threads of blood; some appeared to be newly closed while others seemed active.

“Stop, slave!” Jorge exclaimed, abruptly halting Alex.

He lifted the slave's chin with his hand and then examined his face carefully. Alex kept his eyes low, not looking at him. His clean cheeks were slightly swollen from the two slaps he had received a few hours earlier; but most importantly, his lips were in very bad shape, cracked, bleeding, and very swollen.

“But what happened to you?”

“Nothing, Master, I'm fine.”

“And your lips?”

“They're here to serve you, Master, did I do something wrong?” the slave asked, a clear fear in his voice.

“No, but why are they so swollen?”

“Because I’ve served you all night, as you ordered, Master. You’ve granted me the sublime honor of worshipping your penis by licking and sucking it while you slept, Master, did I do wrong?” he asked now with alarm.

That was the explanation. Unlike his face, which had begun to recover from the swelling of the slaps, his lips continued to be used without rest and, far from recovering, they had worsened. Jorge even feared for his own health, thinking that having contact on his penis with Alex's blood was surely a risk factor for any infection that the boy, who was of an age to contract all the sexually transmitted diseases on the planet, could transmit to him.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes, Master, it hurts a lot, they burn; but for that very reason, I know I must give everything to serve and obey you without thinking of my harm.”

In those conditions, it was not worth doing what he had planned. And by the time he recovered, he would already be far away, so he sighed, trying to console himself with the mischief of the previous night, which truly surpassed any steamy fantasy, and prepared to finish what was left.

“Come on, let’s have breakfast and then I’m leaving.”

“Yes, Master, as you order.”

They showered separately, dressed, and he called room service to have breakfast served. Within a few minutes, a small army of eager men and women took away the leftovers from the previous day and set the table ready for a real feast; this time they asked if the slave was going to have breakfast with dishes like those of the master, and after leaving everything ready, they left as quickly as they had come. They had breakfast with appetite, although Jorge never knew that using the mouth to have breakfast and later brushing it thoroughly caused Alex enormous pain, which he faced with maximum humility, without drawing any attention to it. They were still finishing when there was a knock at the door, and Kamar appeared, as smiling and pleasant as the day before.

Thursday, September 18. 09:27 hours.

“I hope you have rested and had a proper breakfast, Mr. Redondo.”

“Yes, thank you very much, I slept well, I went to bed early,” Jorge lied without flinching. “And the breakfast was perfect as well.”

“Then, have you had time to study the information and proposal I provided you yesterday?”

“Yes, of course,” he lied again. “But I must tell you that I decline your offer, and I would like to leave as soon as possible. Don’t misunderstand me; I greatly appreciate both your exquisite hospitality and the great opportunity you explained to me, but I think it’s best for everyone that I return to my usual life.”

“I regret your decision, but of course, it will be as you wish, Mr. Redondo. If you wish, we will transport your luggage to the airport right now; remember that the flight leaves at 13:22 hours, but don’t worry, we will ensure that you don’t miss it.”

“Thank you very much,” a jubilant Jorge responded to that confirmation, eager to leave behind such an unexpected experience in many ways.

“On tomorrow’s flight at the same time, your slave will depart; in the meantime, we will look after him well; of course, he will go to an appropriate cell when you leave the suite.”

“Of course. I’m sure he will be properly taken care of. Ah, I would like them to provide some kind of treatment for his lips because they are a bit irritated.”

Kamar glanced sideways at Alex, who was sitting in a corner, just as Jorge had ordered him, away from the conversation. From his position, Kamar could hardly see anything.

“We will return him clean, and my personal veterinarian will check his mouth in case there is any treatment to be done.”

“I sincerely appreciate it, Mr. Kamar.”

“And you might also consider staying one more day, and in this way, you could travel together to Nairobi tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if you wish, you can remain in the hotel suite to return together; don’t you find that better? Of course, with the expenses on our part; and if you like, after lunch, I could offer you a tour of our small enclave, so you can get to know our city of Sunrut briefly. What do you think?”

Jorge thought quickly. On one hand, he was very tempted by the idea of staying one more night with Alex; there he certainly wouldn’t miss a good fuck, which was likely going to be the best of his life. In reality, he wasn’t in a hurry because the flight to Paris left on Sunday, so if he traveled to Nairobi the next day, Friday, he had more than enough time. The only drawback was that his friend Miguel Ángel would worry if he didn’t arrive on today’s flight, and he had no way to notify him. As if reading his mind, Kamar said:

“Of course, we could contact anyone you wish to explain this change of plans.”

“Mr. Miguel Ángel Jou is our consul in Kenya and is a friend of mine. He would be expecting me today; I would stay if you guarantee me that you will notify him.”

Jorge liked mentioning that he had such an important friend in front of Kamar. The ketirí opened an elegant portfolio he was carrying and pulled out what seemed to be a small black mobile phone. He turned it on and handed it to Jorge.

“Use this phone freely; it has Internet access, and I assure you it is not controlled or monitored. Do you remember your friend’s number?”

“No, but I can call the embassy, and they will connect me with him.”

“Do it that way then. This phone does not get blocked and has a charge for more than a day at full use. It does lack a camera, your host warned you.”

“I will leave you alone so you can carry out your management; whether you ultimately decide to stay one more day, which I would personally love, or if you stick to your idea of leaving, you just have to notify the suite service, and they will take care of everything. I trust I will see you later, but if not, I wish you a safe journey and hope you keep a good memory of Ketirandia.”

“Of course, Mr. Kamar; I’ll see if I can sort things out and stay, I will notify you whatever happens.”

Jorge was more than determined to take advantage of this stroke of luck; he no longer thought about strange conspiracies, nor hidden dangers. Moreover, he didn’t care if the phone was monitored and they could listen to him speak because there was no secret in it. Within minutes, he was talking to his friend.

“Hello, Miguel Ángel… yes, very well, in Sunrut. You see, something came up, and I’m going to fly to Nairobi tomorrow, don’t come looking for me today… no, no problem, on the contrary… I’m really telling you, man, I’m going to do a small promotional excursion that they offer me for free… no… hahahaha… no cannibals, indeed, well, let’s meet then for tomorrow at the same time… how? Ah, yes, there are indeed devices functioning, but they have to be authorized… I don’t know the number, but I’m using a mobile phone that they lent me. Yes, thank you very much, I will do it… see you tomorrow, a hug, friend.”

Resolved. Jorge hastened to call room service to indicate his change of plans. Soon, the hotel’s bactani arrived.

“Understood, elí. The very tall Kamar Abumón cannot be with you this morning but will visit you this afternoon at tea time.”

“At five then?”

“No, elí; in Ketirandia, tea time is four in the afternoon,” the employee replied with a friendly smile. “Ah, he told me that your slave needed a check-up, and he instructed me to bring you the service sheet.”

“The service sheet?”

“Yes, it’s very simple. You just have to mark what treatments you want for your slave, and we will return him with them applied.”

“Oh, how practical. Well, it will be just the doctor to check him and provide some treatment if necessary.”

“But elí… a doctor, no…”

“The veterinarian.”

“Exactly, elí! Well, you just mark the orders, and they will be fulfilled.”

He left, and shortly after, after knocking twice and getting no response, he entered with a sheet and a marker.

“We’ve translated everything into Spanish, sir,” the ketirí said with satisfaction. “When you have everything ready, call the service, and we will collect the sheet and the slave.”

Thursday, September 18. 11:22 hours.

The truth is that Jorge was curious and wanted to see what possibilities the famous sheet had, although he was actually only interested in having the slave receive some anti-inflammatory or something similar to relieve the wounds on his lips. He sat in an armchair at the entrance, in front of the same table where he had always spoken with Kamar. It was a large, double-sided sheet, so the questionnaire spanned four pages. He saw that his name was already written down, and at the bottom, the date was already noted with a space for him to stamp his signature, which read “THE MASTER.” He filled in the slave's name at the top and the “date of the beginning of possession,” which he had to look up in the false contract that Alex had drawn up the day before. It seemed unbelievable that not even a full day had passed since then when inside him the intensity and the unusualness of the time that had passed created the false impression that that conversation in the customs parking lot, where the Rover was undoubtedly still, had taken place several days earlier.

He decided to fully review the four pages before filling anything out, not wanting to mess up anything, and could hardly believe what he was reading, moving from something surprising to another even more unusual section. Each page corresponded to a different heading: health, nutrition, hygiene, and physical restrictions. In the first section, health, he could indicate that he requested a general check-up, blood and urine tests with indications of standard values and infectious diseases, treatment of wounds, and in the space where he could write freely, he specifically mentioned the problems with his face in general and lips/mouth in particular; up to there no problems, he also marked that he understood the medical risks and authorized the veterinarian to speak with the slave to provide information that could be relevant about allergies or any other data that was considered (for which it was requested that the master give a direct order of docility and obedience to the slave). In the nutrition section, it could be indicated that the slave should remain completely fasting, and if not, indicate what type of food should be provided: only water, parenteral nutrition, standard food. Additionally, it should indicate whether soma should be excluded from the water and food; by default, it was understood that yes, but it could be ordered not to be given. After thinking about it a bit, Jorge decided that it would be better to let him have it, why not. The standard food consisted of what were called “pellets”; it was possible to leave the portion to the veterinarian's discretion or indicate a specific amount. Jorge thought it best to request that he only be given water, with his appropriate dose of soma.

Things got interesting in the “cleanliness and hygiene” section. Jorge recalled that precisely for this reason he had had some inconvenience the night before, so he marked the sections “full exterior cleaning,” “thorough cleaning of the oral cavity,” and “cleaning of the anal cavity with complete bowel evacuation through saline wash.” The latter was quite exciting as a display of power. There was more, and at that moment he had made the prior decision to order anything he liked because he certainly didn’t plan to return to Alex ever again after that night. So he also requested “complete removal of all body hair,” “maximum close shave of the face,” and “haircut”; there were drawings to choose the type of cut, and he marked a military-style one that left the top almost flat. It was very short from Jorge’s perspective, extremely short, but the longest if compared to the other possible drawing options, including complete shaving. Alex currently had quite long and messy hair, but he would let it grow back later as much as he wanted.

As for “physical restrictions,” it could be ordered to place an anal plug, a penis restrictor, a testicle cage, shackles welded at the wrists or ankles, a welded collar, closed bracelets, rings, and various other elements on the earlobes, nose, lips, nipples, navel, penis, testicles, or any indicated area; all these elements had various options and models and could be chosen from different materials: iron, steel, silver, gold, and even platinum. When marking a restriction, discomfort or pain that the slave must experience must also be indicated: none, moderate, extreme; some bracelets and restrictors could feature inner spikes, fixed or retractable. There was also the possibility of requesting the removal or replacement of any existing restriction. Jorge would have loved to order two large steel rings on Alex's nipples, for example, but this was already outside of what was easily reversible, so he prudently left this entire section blank.

It was warned to the owner that the service time could vary, depending on what had been ordered; as he thought he would take that walk with Kamar after lunch, he rightly thought that by the time he returned from it, he would already have his slave ready. He reread everything, calmed down reading that the slave would be properly cared for so that he didn’t suffer unnecessary harm, signed the paper, and called room service again; the waiter quickly read it, asked if the elí had any doubts or wanted something specific that was not on the sheet, and finally, after assuring him that the cost of this service would be completely covered by the hotel, requested Jorge to instruct the slave to accept the instructions given by the service staff, which he immediately did. Alex was wearing the red t-shirt and cut jeans he had on when they first met, which undoubtedly seemed very funny to the waiter, some sort of mischief, as if he were a dog dressed as a frog. Alex left calmly following the waiter, who assured before leaving that they would return his slave a few hours later and in perfect condition.

By noon, he was feeling quite well, and around one o'clock he called the suite service to order a simple but tasty meal, based on canapés, salmon, and beef tenderloin, but he completely refrained from drinking alcohol. He finished with a lemon sorbet and a coffee with milk.

Thursday, September 18. 14:40 hours.

He had plenty of time until Kamar returned to have tea together and then go for a walk around the city, so Jorge thought it was the perfect moment to review the documentation that the ketirí had left him, which he had hardly browsed; at that very moment, Alex was restrained with strong straps in a “cleaning” room where he was being administered strong enemas and purgatives that would cause him to vomit and completely empty his digestive system, which would then be thoroughly washed with saline, but evidently Jorge could not know this.

The first thing Jorge understood when reviewing the documents that Kamar had left him was that Benassur's will occupied few pages; in contrast, most of the total corresponded to a dossier simply titled “Ketirandia,” where it was warned on the paper band that wrapped it that by tearing it the reader accepted the unbreakable obligation to not discuss the content offered outside the country, nor of course make copies of it in whole or in part, much less disseminate it—warnings that only fueled Jorge’s curiosity. He opened it, and nothing was ever the same for him again.

Ketirandia (“Ketiris” in its own language… because there is a native language), the Republic of Free Men, was based on slavery as a form of life philosophy. A slave is an object, a usable good that lacks legal entity by itself. Its value, as they can be bought and sold, is not high, since there apparently is a surplus of them; they are not counted in thousands, but in millions, although exact quantities did not appear. In contrast, free men barely reach 25,000 throughout the country. It also spoke of ketirí women, who by law live separately from men. In fact, the two main islands of the archipelago that constitute the entire territory of the country except for the small coastal enclave of Sunrut where Jorge happened to be, called Alfar and Betia, were destined for men and women respectively. And when he wondered if there was no mixed place, he found that there were two: Onga island and the enclave of Sunrut, where he indeed had seen some women among the staff.

Without finishing the whole dossier, he searched for the will and found a final explanatory note stating that only the money deposited in the form of gold in the ketirí banks amounted to over eighty treasures, and since a treasure has one thousand talents and each talent one thousand doubloons, that meant that Benassur had at his disposal at death eighty million doubloons; estimating about six thousand four hundred million euros. Moreover, the list of estates, ships, companies, and others was enormous; curiously, the number of slaves was not mentioned, which was always cited with phrases such as “and the furnishings and animals that correspond.” There seemed to be no assets abroad, or at least none appeared related in the will.

Jorge was aware of his age, that he perhaps had twenty years of life left, and that with much luck. He had heard many times that people regret on their deathbed not so much the mistakes they made as the missed opportunities, and he told himself that it would not happen to him. The worst that could happen was death; whereas if everything turned out reasonably well, he could literally reach paradise. He returned to the dossier to continue learning as much as possible about Ketirandia, but internally he had already made a decision.