leaving handprints all over the trousers.

“I’m sorry Bahari,” the boy kept saying. “Sorry.”

The boys never called Diogo anything but Bahari. It was from the High Speech and translated roughly to ‘Great Sir’ or ‘Lord’.

Diogo jerked his leg out of Nisha’s reach. “Get off me bitch,” he said through clenched teeth.

The boy paled and shoved his hands behind his back like Diogo’s trousers had caught fire.

“Yes Bahari,” Nisha said miserably. “Sorry. I’m real sorry Bahari. About your trousers and all.”

Valak watched in silence. This kind of thing always happened to Diogo around the boys. He took pity on his friend, who looked ready to slap Nisha into roughly the middle of next week.

“Nisha,” Valak said, snapping his fingers. “That’s enough. Quiet.”

The boy dropped his eyes. Anything was better than the look on Diogo’s face. Even the beating Nisha was sure was coming.

“You whores like the life I give you?” Diogo said.

All four of the boy whores knelt on the floor in front of his desk. He sat behind his desk. Valak sat on the opposite side of the desk in the corner, watching over his boys, as always.

“Yes Sir,” Yahsi said softly.

He pushed his wavy honey brown hair back from his face. His dark pink lips trembled with fear. All the boys knew what was coming. Or at least, they thought they knew.

“You treat us good Bahari,” Reya said in a soft murmur.

The blonde highlights in Reya’s straight dark brown hair gleamed in the torchlight. The boy bit his dark pink lips.

“You hear that Valak? My whores think I treat them good.”

“Right.”

“What about your Handler? He treat you good?”

The boys all nodded.

“Yes Bahari, real good,” Taj said.

The boy’s jet black hair framed a cinnamon colored face gone pale with fear. He licked his soft lips and tossed his hair, slipping a trembling hand into Yahsi’s hand. Yahsi took Reya’s hand on the other side of him.