Spaniard Untamed (Blood and Thunder 3)

They’d parked in a ramshackle farmyard. The farmhouse seemed deserted. One of them dragged her toward a broken-down barn. Was this where the auctions were held? Yes! When they opened the barn door and pushed her inside, she saw the cleared area in the center of the dirty floor. The stage, she presumed. Lights had been set up around the perimeter, and a camera was fixed to a tripod.

“She’s not ready yet. Keep her moving,” the boss growled.

As he spoke, a door opened at the far end of the barn. The old witch must have flown in on her broomstick, Celina concluded, determined to keep up her spirits. And this elegant space must be my dressing room, she guessed as the crone pushed her into a dilapidated room festooned with spiderwebs.

“Welcome, welcome,” the old woman crowed.

There were mouse droppings on the floor, and the furniture consisted of a rickety wooden chair and a grimy-looking bed, neither of which Celina had any intention of touching. A selection of what she took to be grooming equipment was piled up on a rusty tray, but after her recent experiences, when the crone held out a bar of soap and a thin towel, Celina was as thrilled as if she was being offered high-end spa products. She couldn’t wait to have a proper wash.

“No hot water here,” her jailor cackled as Celina studied the various implements, wondering which one would be most use as a weapon. “I’ll take care of her now,” she added to the men waiting outside the door, slamming it shut with the toe of her boot. “Undress,” she commanded. “Take off all your clothes. I want to see you naked to be sure you’re not hiding anything.”

With no other option, Celina quickly did as she was told.

“Now, turn around. Slowly,” the crone instructed.

Celina had anticipated a strip search, but her heart was thundering. This was always going to be the most dangerous part of her plan. The search was unpleasant but necessary. Doing exactly as instructed, she took some small comfort from hearing the crone compliment her labial piercing.

“Very pretty. It will glitter in the light and draw attention where we need it, but I’m afraid you’ll have to take it out for now.”

Which was exactly what Celina had hoped would happen. She had quite literally bet her life on being told to remove any jewelry before being waxed and polished and made ready for sale. “Of course,” she said meekly.

Turning her back on the old woman, she carefully removed the neat gold hoop. The area was still a little sore, and she couldn’t risk the crone noticing that the piercing was quite recent. The hoop was an effective way to carry an unobtrusive micro-transmitter. Many agents were chipped as a matter of course, so Celina guessed a scanner would be the next hurdle she’d encounter.

Her jailor didn’t disappoint. Celina eyed the hand-held scanner. She was relieved to see how old it was and guessed its range would be limited.

“Give me the hoop, and I’ll put it on the tray,” the old woman instructed. “Then I’ll make sure you’re not hiding anything more sinister.”

Celina made sure to stand as far away from the rusty tray as possible. If she could get through this and then the next couple of hours, and if Amber hadn’t let her down and neither had Diego, the team should know her whereabouts by now. They had jets capable of transporting high-powered vehicles, so with any luck, they could be here before she was moved again. There was a lot of trust involved, and a lot of uncertainty, but she had to believe that what she was doing would be worthwhile.

She was relieved when the old woman put the scanner down.

“As I thought,” she gloated. “We’ve got another little chicken for the pot.”

“We’re an hour out with men and equipment,” Alexei confirmed. “Celina’s signal come through yet?”

“Strong and clear,” Diego confirmed. “We could be on the brink of something big here.” He fell silent as he wondered at what cost.

“This is all thanks to Celina,” Alexei told him. “You’ll get her back,” he added, sensing Diego’s concern.

“I just hope they haven’t found her tracker.” He stared again at the monitor he’d set up on the windscreen and drew comfort from the flashing red light.

“Have confidence in your woman.”

“She’s not my woman.”

“Whatever you say, Diego.” Alexei cut the line.

His throat dried as he stared again at the light. It showed where she was, not if Celina was alive.

~~o0o~~

“First the bikini, and then these shoes,” the crone instructed, standing back to watch Celina getting dressed. “And put that pussy ring back in. I like it. It makes you look like a provocative little tart.”

It might sting a little, but she was only too pleased to put back the ring. She stared in silence at the ugly red stilettos. “I won’t be able to walk in them,” she protested.

“You don’t have to walk,” the c

rone informed her. “You just have to stand and sway. Put them on,” she snapped. “The alternative to the sale is death. Anyone would think you were appearing in a fashion show,” she sneered. “This isn’t for your comfort but for the pleasure of the men watching you. Put them on, and then crisscross the leather laces up your legs. We want the buyers to think about bondage and what they’d like to do to you. They’ll pay more if you excite them.”