An innocent Senorita?

Her small hand rests lightly on my arm and she looks at me coyly. “Come on, Mr. P, you don't want some romantic Harlequin heroine to deflower. My fantasies are much hotter; choose your favorite scenario and let me make it real.” There is something genuine about my young tenant that I cannot refuse.

“I guess ... maybe the inquisitor and the Spanish Senorita...” I stammer softly. Any concern that I might have had about taking advantage of Alison is instantly dispelled when I see her eyes light up in excitement. wondering how I lost control of this situation. How does this young woman know about things that I couldn't even talk to my wife about?

“Ooo, Mr. P, I didn't think you had it in you.” She pauses for a second before taking my hands in hers.

“OK, Mr. Patterson, the power in those days lies with an unholy alliance between Ferdinand and Isabella and the Catholic Church. The powerful Moors and Jews who once subverted the court now must worship in secret, corrupting the unwary with their blood rituals and Cabalistic cabals.” Alison leans forward to whisper conspiratorially and she slips into the role of a sycophantic assistant, “These families use the blood of innocent virgins for their demonic deals, Your Eminence.” I cannot help but marvel at the wicked ways this seemingly sweet preacher's daughter's mind sometimes works, but I am intrigued all the same.

“And which of these secret families have come to the attention of my Holy office?” The way Alison licks her lips tells me I hit the exact right note.

“The Castellano family of Aquilla, Your Eminence.” I watch her as she sinks deeper into her fantasy, “an informant alerted the local office there that the family has rejected Our Savior and is still secretly consorting with the devil. The patriarch and his son-in-law have so far eluded capture,” Her expressive eyes lock with mine before continuing “but the man's daughters were taken at their home and brought here to Madrid for your convenience.” My young tenant lowers her voice to a whisper again and her lips are just inches from my ear.

“The oldest is a new mother with milk-swollen breast and fine wide hips, but the others are still maidens - the second is a dark-haired beauty renown for her modest nature and sweet voice,” The image of a worried young woman surprised by black-cloaked men bursting into her elegant home pops unbidden into my mind's eye.

As Alison continues on, describing the last of the three with a sparkle in her eye, “Your Eminence, the youngest is only fifteen years old, with small breasts and -”

“No, Angel” I interrupt her squeezing her hands firmly in mine, “I prefer my women fully grown, like you.”

“It's your fantasy Mr. P.” Alison kisses me gently, “The middle daughter then?” After a moment of hesitation I nod silently and Alison smiles at me knowingly. “She'll be waiting for you, Your Eminence, in a dark holding cell. Her hands chained to the wall wearing only the flimsiest of shifts.” As I stare my tenant in stunned surprise, she walks to her closet and pulls two small purses from the back. “I bought these a year ago, Mr. P, because of the chains,” she unclips the shoulder straps from the leather purses and wraps the length of smooth silver links around her wrists. “It will be dark Sir, do you have any candles?”

“Downstairs.” I answer carefully, and Alison sends me away to get them.

“When you return, Mr. P,” Alison warns me, “I want you to be fully in the role of His Eminence the Grand Inquisitor of Madrid, not the decent man who I know you really are.” She stops me just as I'm at the door. “Oh and Mr. P, this poor innocent knows nothing about her father's business or any secret Jews. No matter what you do to her sweet untouched body, she won't be able to save her pretty hide with a simple confession.” She lifts her arms high above her head, “She might however in desperation, be persuaded to turn in some of her beautiful young friends for you and your men to interrogate.”