Does he prove her right?

"Sir Nicholas won't mind that girl," he said. "You look fine. In fact, I would venture to guess those marks on your skin will only make him want to punish you himself."

I gulped but tried not to show the fear on my face. I had chosen the 'better class of sadists' as my only hope for survival. I would do what needed to be done to stay alive. I just hoped the punishments of Sir Nicholas weren't as degrading as what I had experienced in the cell. Somehow, I knew deep down though that the rich men would be just as awful if not worse than anyone I had encountered in the room below.

"Now come with me Marisol. We mustn't keep an important man waiting." he said.

I followed him out of the ornate room I now had the 'privilege' of inhabiting. "Juanita, Juanita, my name is Juanita." I kept telling myself over and over in order to will myself not to forget. I don't know if I can be two people in my mind. I might have to completely turn off Juanita in order to be this robot whore they want me to be. I might not survive mentally otherwise. "Whatever it takes," entered my head, and I said that repeatedly as my new survival mantra. "Whatever it takes."

We didn't travel far, just down one flight of stairs and a few doors down from that. I tried to make out some distinguishing characteristics of this building we were in. Besides the corridor and doors being as ornate as my own room, I couldn't tell where I was being held. Of course, it was foolish to think they would leave a newspaper lying around or something else incriminating. "Stupid girl." I thought.

I was snapped back to reality by the man abruptly stopping at what looked like an oak door on the right. I stood behind him as he knocked.

"Enter," said a deep voice from inside.

We both entered the room. I was ashamed at how submissive I had already become walking behind this man and lowering my eyes when I entered the room. "How quickly a caged animal learns to behave." I thought to myself.

"Sir Nicholas, I would like to present Marisol for your service," he said beaming as if he scrubbed me clean and dressed me up like a doll himself.

I felt heat rush through my face as I sensed Sir Nicholas' eyes running all over my body. I dared to lift my eyes to catch a glimpse of him sitting on the sofa by the fireplace. He wasn't unattractive. I would call him quietly attractive. He was older; mid forties maybe with salt and pepper hair and angular features. Just the type who would want to use a Latin girl as his slut. I knew the type. They were oh so respectable looking, but once they got you alone they treated you like a second class citizen.

I reminded myself that here I was second class if not lower. I was the lowest in the food chain. "Whatever it takes," my mantra entered my mind again.

"Leave us." Sir Nicholas commanded the man who didn't waste any time in leaving the room.

I stood at the doorway awaiting orders like the caged animal I was.

"Come here Marisol," he ordered. His deep, calm voice belied what I knew must hide a sadistic bastard.

I obeyed and stood before him. This time his eyes scanned every inch of me as he told me twice to turn around so he could get a good look at me. Facing him again I could tell he was noticing the welt on my cleavage that was practically spilling out of the little black dress. I heard him sigh deeply and awaited the sure punishment I would receive from "Mr. Anglo-Saxon." I just knew he wanted to punish his Latin slut.