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“Ok, to the cage. Knowing the level of eagerness, Escobar is sure to be on time... perhaps early. And if Escobar enters, I want you to speak... the six sordid words you uttered on that first date you had. Otherwise you are to remain silent.”
April leads me to the bedroom. Baldur greets with a ‘woof’ as I know to step to the cage, go to all fours and crawl within. As April snaps closed the lock, I continue to seek comfort, examining the lock ... the large lump of high carbon steel and thick loop which holds me captive... and also keeps me isolated from the most vicious purveyor of drugs in the world.
Naked but for heels, I am beginning to understand the game. The subterfuge of my gender will temporarily end... my vestigial maleness... my penis... to be displayed.
April departs, presumably not to be part of the ‘fun and games’. So I just lie back and wait, the irony of being caged while Baldur is free to roam occupying my thoughts.
***
Waldorf Apartment
New York, New York
“Maria, you’ll need to stay with us in the room. Leave the video system on in case things get completely out of hand, but it need not be monitored. When he offers the money, take it, stash it to prevent a grab and run. He may get a little irrational.”
The soldier in Maria listens intently and calmly. She has spent the morning honing her knife, imagining and mentally role playing. Pablo Escobar is not to be harmed unless absolutely necessary, that she understands. He is about to become an ATM... to gush cash... not blood.
“Is April tucked away?”
“Cabled in the closet of the video surveillance room.”
“Good.”
Slightly before 3:00 p.m. the early arrival symbolizing the intensity of the testosterone laden male sex drive, the apartment buzzer sounds with the extended press of an enthusiastic finger.
Maria responds, opening the door to Pablo Escobar. He carries a package, square, wrapped in brown paper. Stepping into the sitting room, once again an alert Maria pats down for weapons.
“The funds, I assume?” Ramona nodding to what is cradled in Escobar’s hands.
“$50,000. I want her naked... I want her alone.”
“Of course. But there is something you should see first.”
Maria steps back, positioning behind Escobar, right hand on the knife handle, as Ramona hands Escobar a folder.
“Thought you’d like some pictures of your date,” giving the word mocking emphasis.
A perplexed Escobar takes the folder and opens. He is aghast. His jaw clenches. His face reddens with rushing circulation.
“I lied about the age. Actually twenty four years old. And you can see why she hasn’t grown bigger breasts, Pablo.... hope you don’t mind if I call you Pablo. Something about organs descending to become testicles instead of remaining within to become ovaries. I had such removed, and you can understand the resulting confusion.”
Maria steps forth and takes the brown package from a stunned Escobar.
“You bitch!” the voice raspy and threatening as he quickly rifles the many pages, finally coming to the extreme close up of Maria’s bronzed hand palming the tiny male organ.
“So, taking Renee anally will not be a problem. But I hope you don’t desire vaginal penetration as well, nothing there I’m afraid.”
“Give me my money!” the voice loud and demanding as Maria briefly steps away to lock the funds in a drawer.
“Calm yourself, Pablo. You need to think about some things. This is not a drug deal you can walk away from and just forget. There’s more.”
Another folder is offered, still shots of the skull fuck... amazingly clear, the identity of Escobar not in doubt, the blonde head of Renee most apparent.
“You photographed me!”
“And videotaped as well. Every thrust, every word recorded. Makes for great recreation. Who do you think should be entertained by this?”
Pablo Escobar indeed calms. One does not control 50% of the world’s supply of cocaine through irrational acts and thoughts.
