Angelita was not sure about the one who arrived that night though. She watched him as he sat waiting. His black suit and raincoat looked worn and he had a heavy scar on his right cheek. He sat expressionless. He did not look rich like the others but he had asked for the best and girls were in short supply at the moment.

When Ana came down she was wearing a long golden gown which stretched to her knees but still left much of her bosom exposed. She spoke briefly with the German and then came to Angelita: “He wants something special and he’s paid for it. I will take him downstairs.”

Ana turned to the German. She spoke a little of his language but preferred not to try. She spoke in her own tongue. “Follow me.” He appeared not to understand so she coaxed him with her finger.

They turned onto stone steps and began to descend. There were torches on the walls but the steps curved and sometimes the way was in darkness. Ana trailed her hand on the cold wall but she knew the way and sensed the steps under her foot. The walls and the steps were ancient; their surface brittle and sharp. Then the stairs levelled and opened into a passageway. No one knew when this had been dug out but it had to be centuries ago. The air was dusty.

The German’s tall shadow moved across the wall, while Ana led him into a room that was lit by four large torches on each wall. The flames flickered, reacting to the breath and movement of the two people who had just arrived. One wall was fitted with manacles at different levels. They were old and iron, and looked heavy. Ana knew that they were. Many times she had lifted these large rings, which looked like something you would use to tether a ship to the dock, and slipped a chain through them.

She turned to face the German, seeing that his skin was very fair and untouched by the sun. He had only recently arrived in Lisbon, that much was obvious.

She reached up to take off his tie but he held up his hand to stop her. His eyes were blue and cold. Slowly he took off his coat and jacket and laid them both across the heavy oak chair in the corner. The jacket collar had a label from a Berlin tailor.

He kept his eyes on Ana all the while; not on her breasts as most men did, but her face. Then he unfastened his tie and folded it neatly.

Ana walked to the wall and lifted one of the iron rings.

“How about we get you in one of these and we have some fun?” she said. “I can make your skin burn with delight.”

He did not reply but slowly unfastened each button on his shirt, from top to bottom. She watched him, biting her lower lip sexily as he pulled the shirt tails from his trousers and revealed his naked torso. He was built like an ox. His waist was narrow but his body spread out thickly to the large muscles in his chest and arms. His rib cage was like a barrel.

He reached to his belt and undid the heavy silver buckle. Then instead of unfastening the trousers he pulled the belt through the loops and watched it snake into the room between them with a crack. He stood with the heavy black leather hanging down at his side. His chest rose.

“Take off your clothes,” he said in English with a thick accent.

Ana lifted her chin. So that was how he wanted it. Well, that was nothing new. She pushed herself away from the wall and came to stand in the centre of the room.

He reached out quickly, grabbed her wrist and spun her around, her hair falling across her eyes.

She felt his hand at the neck of her gown and then he pulled down sharply. The material dug into her neck and shoulders and then ripped loudly and slid off her arms. She grabbed a section of it at her breasts but most of the gown fell to her waist.

“You will have to pay for that,” she said without getting angry.

“Quiet!”

He put one heavy hand on her shoulder and gripped tightly.

“I do not want to hear you speak,” he said angrily. “Do you understand me?”

She nodded.

He moved her forward. The sandals on her feet shuffled on the uneven floor.

For one moment she thought he was going to run her face against the wall. Her nose was pressed so close. Then he turned her head and laid her cheek against the harsh surface. He took her left arm, lifting it and attached it to one of the iron clasps. Then repeated with her right.

He ran a finger down her spine, very slowly. It traced the curve of her back and then reached the gown at the top of her buttocks. It moved the silk down so that part of her backside was visible.

“I am going to strike you with my belt,” he said, leaning forward so that she could see him. He had a length of the belt pulled tight between his fists. “How many times depends on you.”

“It depends on what you pay me,” Ana said.

The German looked at her. Her nostrils flared in a kind of pride. It excited him more and she felt his breath on her shoulder.

He stood back, his feet kicking up the dirt.

“After I have struck you I will take you,” he said, “like an animal.”

He reached forward and ripped the gown off her buttocks. It fell in rags at her feet.

He put a hand between her thighs and forced her legs apart. She stood waiting. She wondered how many times he would strike her. She liked to be whipped. She liked the moment, just before, when she didn’t know when the blows would start; when she didn’t know if he wanted her to yelp or whimper or beg for more. She wanted it across her buttocks but she feared he wanted her back.

She pushed her arse out towards him and heard him swallow in the silence. Her breath was hot against the cold wall as she closed her eyes.

Whack!

The first blow came across her shoulder blades, the metal end of the belt snapping against the wall under her right arm. Bits of stone flaked.

Whack!

The leather was hard and thick, but the width of the belt did not cut her skin.

Thwack!

For the third blow he folded the belt into a loop so the strike made a different sound: one sound leather on leather; the other, leather on skin. The snap on her skin made her thighs tremble with excitement. Then he moved down to her buttocks. Two blows on her left cheek and then right across the tanned skin.

Her nipples had hardened and now, as he spanked her harder, she felt her breasts rubbing on the cold stone.

He seemed angry that she had not cried out. He took a long swing and cracked the belt on her buttocks. It stung, sending little messages of pain and pleasure out through her body. “Oh!” She closed her eyes and saw tiny fragments of light burst inside her brain. She cut her cheek on the stone.

She heard the belt thrown to the ground and the German unfasten his trousers.

He moved in close behind her and forced his face into her neck.

“Now I am going to take you.” She felt his teeth on her skin as he spoke.

He had a small tub in his hand and still pressing his body against her, he unscrewed the lid.

He moved back a fraction and held her left buttock with one hand. He opened her arse cheeks and forced the right hand inside, smearing the jelly-like substance between her cheeks. His fingers were fast and workmanlike but not as violent as she imagined. She felt him find and coat her rectum and her body quivered with pleasure. He then withdrew only a fraction and, still holding open her buttocks, forced his hips forward.

The head of his cock nudged her anus. “You have to have a very, very hard dick for this, leibchen,” he said, “and that is what you have given me.”

His head moved inside her, sending shockwaves of pain through her lower body.

His fist was around his rod, holding it firm and steady, piercing her.

“Of course, you would have had this before,” he said, putting his left hand now around her waist to pull her back on him. His penis went in deeper.

He took his fist off his cock and brought his right hand onto her hip. He squeezed forward pinning her to the wall. He barely moved his body now but pulled her hips back and forth so that her ass went over and back on his hard flesh.

“I expect you enjoy it,” he said, still in English, his breath now shortening. “Hmm?”

The movement inside her was short and sharp, but she felt his juices breaking and the barriers of her skin weaken and fall. Suddenly his entry was very easy but he kept going. His lips closed down on her shoulder and bit and sucked as if he were tasting fruit. It was the first sign he had given that his climax was approaching. He kept his head down and shifted his hips more quickly. She felt the roughness of his trousers on her buttocks.

His cock began to swell inside her. He held open her buttocks and forced her face and breasts and belly into the wall. He tried to push his whole body right between her cheeks.  The waves of cum flowed from his pulsing cock as it swelled up and sunk to its base deep inside her exhausted body.

       Afterwards the German took a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his face and neck. He then carefully put on his shirt and tie.

Ana stood with her back against the wall, holding the ripped gown to her shoulders.

The German put on his jacket and smoothed down the arms and front with the palms of his hands. He took out a brown wallet and held out a wad of notes.

Ana stepped forward and took them.

“I may be in Lisbon for a while,” he said matter-of-factly, picking up his raincoat. “I may return.”

He walked to the door which led back into the corridor.

“Your name?” Ana said in Portuguese. “Name?” she added, acting if it was one of the few German words she knew.

The German stopped, looked at her and then left. She listened to the slow, steady click of his shoes on the steps.