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Cachorro	By : hatochiisai Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 11087 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, nor do I make any financial profit off of writing this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7

“Buenos dias, Cachorro.” Coronado purred, leaning over and pressing a kiss to the pale cheek of the slender boy lying beside him in bed. Reid just sighed. “What is wrong?” The man asked. Reid just drew his knees up to his chest, lying on his side and staring outside at the rainforest which was getting its morning shower, courtesy of the steel gray clouds overhead. “You do not look well.” Coronado said with a frown, feeling Reid’s forehead. “No fever… Do you feel sick?”

“… No.” Reid whispered.

“What is wrong?”

“… Nothing.” Reid mumbled.

“Ah well… perhaps you will feel more talkative after breakfast.” Coronado said, standing and heading into the bathroom. “Come! You need to bathe.” Reid sighed, then slowly dragged himself out of the bed and followed, wincing at a mild ache between his legs. Just like the day before, Coronado bathed him, dressed him in the white cotton pants, and then they went to the sunroom, (though Reid had yet to be in it with the sun out) and had breakfast, Reid once again eating from the man’s hand. Then, he was turned loose in the house. And just as before, Reid was soon curled up in a chair in the library. He stayed there all morning.

Just before lunch, the door opened.

“Cachorro?” He looked up at the gentle call and stared at Sirena. She offered him a shy, gentle smile. He just blinked at her and lowered his book. She walked across the room and reached out, taking his hand. Reid blinked again and stood as she began tugging him to the door. He laid his book down and followed her. Still holding his hand, she led him out to the gardens where they walked for a bit. The sun was peeking through the clouds.

After a while, she sat down on a bench and pulled him down to sit next to her. Then she stared at him for a long time. He stared back for a bit, then lowered his eyes and turned away. She reached out and caught his face in her palm and made him look at her again. Then she spoke to him. He couldn’t understand her words, but he knew what she was saying… he could see the question in her eyes. ‘Why are you so sad?’ He sighed and lowered his eyes again before letting them close. He felt her fingers tracing the lines in his face brought about by his sorrow. It made his heart clench as he thought of why he was so sad.

God, how he missed Aaron…

Sirena let out a soft sound of dismay when tears gathered in the corner of Cachorro’s eyes. She brushed them away and lifted his head again. He opened his eyes and looked at her again, taking in the look of pity and surprise on her face as she saw the sadness in his own eyes. She spoke to him again, more earnestly this time. The same words as before. Reid sighed. Slowly, he lifted his hand and pressed his palm to his own bare chest right over his heart. She blinked, and watched as his fingers, gently placed, slowly curled into a harsh grip over his heart, as if he was in pain.

She lifted a hand to her own chest and touched it over her own heart, then picked up a stick from the ground and snapped it in half. Reid smiled slightly, then took the two pieces from her. And from there he proceeded to break them into smaller and smaller pieces, and then just let them fall from his hand to the moist earth at their feet. She stared at him for a bit, her eyes asking the question. ‘Why?’ Reid frowned, thinking on how to answer her. He stared down at his hands in his lap, and then blinked. There was a thin strip of white around the base of the ring finger on his left hand… He had never noticed before… he was always so pale, he didn’t think it was possible… but there it was… a tan line from the ring he wore.

Slowly, he held up his hand. She blinked, and then her eyes widened. She took his hand and traced the white band where the ring had been before Coronado had taken it from him. She stared for a moment, then looked up at Reid in shock. Reid gave her a small nod, then lowered his head again. He knew she got the message.

Half an hour later, Coronado looked up as the door to his study was pushed open.

“Sirena.” He greeted. She slipped in and closed the door behind her.

“What did you find out?” Coronado asked, speaking to her in Portuguese.

“… He is sad…”

“Not sick?”

“Heartsick.” Sirena told him. “Because he was taken away from someone he loves. He is homesick and heartbroken.”

“I see. Thank you. You may go.” Coronado said. Sirena nodded and slipped out the room. Frowning, Coronado leaned back in his chair and stared off into space, contemplating his Cachorro…

“… This is humiliating.” Hotch announced, staring at himself in the mirror.

“I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner.” Jeff Winters said. “But you’ll have to wear it. Everyone knows who a slave belongs to by what they wear.”

Hotch just sighed in disgust, staring at the outfit he was expected to wear… That being tight black leather pants, studded collar and wrist cuffs, and a black mesh shirt.

“You’ll also have to wear this.” Winters said, holding up a Bondage Mask.

“… WHAT?!”

“You yourself said that Coronado has seen your face. So you will have to hide it.” Winters said. Hotch blinked, then scowled. But he knew Winters was right. “Plus, wearing this you will also be able to wear a microphone and ear piece easier.”

“… That’s a good point.” Hotch said, sounding mildly surprised. “But…”

“… But?”

“Uhg… I’ll never live it down…” Hotch groaned.

“Come on now… really?”

“Morgan will never let me live it down.” Hotch said.

“… Would he do it to save Spencer?”

“… Morgan would do almost anything for Spencer.” Hotch admitted.

“Then tell him. If he gives you grief, just remind him that he would do the same if he had to.”

Hotch blinked then smiled and shook his head.

“… This Agent of yours… he’s more than your subordinate, isn’t he?” Winters asked, smiling. Hotch looked at him and blinked. “Please don’t give me the poker face.”

“He’s family.” Hotch said, and Winters nodded.

“Ready to take a break?”

“Yeah. I’m starving.” Hotch admitted.

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting at a table on the patio overlooking the beach and enjoying some grilled fish. “Agent Hotchner.” Winters said. “The first thing that will give us away is if you seem upset or disturbed or overly interested in any of the other slaves, or what their masters may do to them, or make them do. You cannot act shocked or upset by ANY thing. Including anything that may be done to Cachorro. I know it may be difficult for you, but…”

“I understand. Believe me. Tell me about how Coronado treats his slaves.” Hotch said, heart pounding. He had to know what Reid was going through.

“He treats them well.” Winters admitted. “AFTER they have been broken.” Hotch frowned.

“How does he break them?”

“Depends… At his mother’s house, he usually keeps them in the cellar. It’s dark and damp and cold down there. They have no human contact. They are given nothing to sustain them but a cup of water and a piece of bread daily. They are starving, dehydrated, cold and scared. How long they are left down there depends on several things. But ultimately, he preys on their need for human contact.

“He will only remove them from the cellar when THEY reach out to HIM. They must then eat from his hand and drink from his hand. Once they are taken out of the cellar for the first time, he treats them well. Takes care of them. If they defy or disobey after that, he abuses them… the abuse is either physical or sexual in nature, whichever he thinks will damage them more.

“… I’m sorry.” Winters said after a moment of taking in the expression on Hotch’s face. “How long has he been with him?”

“… over two weeks.” Hotch mumbled.

“… I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner. Arturo would have raped him by now. I guarantee it. I’m sorry.”

Hotch turned away with a pained look on his face. “… If Spencer fights him… will Coronado kill him?”

“… He’s done it before. But he tries to avoid killing his slaves as much as possible. They are valuable. He only kills them if he deems them a lost cause. If he thought your agent were a lost cause, he never would have tried to get him back. He believes that he can break your agent and make a decent sex slave out of him.”

“You said that… you can identify who belongs to who by what they wear?”

“Among other things. Some masters brand or tattoo their slaves. I use a collar because my slaves won’t necessarily stay slaves. If they want to go out into the free world again, all they need to do is take off the collar. But most masters use something a bit more permanent.”

“… What about Coronado?” Hotch asked, his heart clenching… was his mate disfigured by that son of a bitch?

“… He tags them.”

“… Tags them?”

“A little golden tag, like what you would find on a dog collar. He engraves their slave name on it.”

“He puts it on a collar?”

“No… on a ring… he… pierces them.”

“… Their ears?” Hotch asked.

“… Their nipples.” Winters said, and watched as Agent Hotchner leapt to his feet with a curse and stalked away.

“Cachorro.” Reid looked up at the call and looked at Coronado. “It’s time to eat.” Reid lowered his eyes back to his book.

“… I’m not hungry.” He mumbled.

“I didn’t ask if you were.” Coronado said.

“… Please… I just want to be alone.”

“Cachorro.” Coronado said in a warning tone. Reid closed his eyes and sighed, then stood and set his book aside.

“Yessir…”

“Excuse me?”

“… Yes, Master…” Reid said, wincing slightly. He made his way over to the door and shuddered at the arm that draped around him. He was guided to the dining room where he once again sat on a cushion on the floor and ate and drank from his master’s hand.

But he was so lonely… he missed his team so much… before he knew it, he had closed his eyes and was nuzzling his cheek into Coronado’s offered palm, whimpering softly. The gentle touch was just something he was craving… he was so alone, abused and scared… he was desperate for a bit of comfort… and he didn’t even care where it came from any longer…

When dinner ended, he silently followed Coronado like a lost lamb. The man ended up in the den, and before either one of them knew it, Coronado was sitting before a roaring fire in the grate on the leather sofa, sipping a glass of cognac, smoking a cigar and stroking the chestnut curls of the boy who was stretched out across the sofa with his head in the man’s lap.

And in the morning, after their bath, Coronado presented Reid with the white cotton shirt that the other male slaves wore. There were no buttons; it simply hung open, bearing his chest. Reid soon figured out why this was… Coronado liked to occasionally finger, flick or play with the rings in his nipples. Reid learned this when after breakfast, Coronado joined him in the library.

Originally, Coronado was going to read with the boy. They took up the same position that they had been in the night before, with Reid stretched out over the sofa with his head in the man’s lap. But Coronado soon found himself staring in amazement as Reid’s finger skimmed down page after page at a startling rate. In fact, the man watched Reid, well, READ, for nearly half an hour, mouth slightly ajar in amazement.

When Reid finished his book, he set it aside and reached for another, but he was stopped when Coronado suddenly seized him and flipped them around. Reid froze, eyes wide in horror as he found himself leaning against the back of the sofa, his buttocks in Coronado’s lap, his legs hooked over the man’s shoulders.

“No no… please no…” Reid gasped, eyes wide.

“Shhh…” Coronado hissed, running a hand over Reid’s cheek and through his hair. His other hand was pulling Reid’s pants down to his thighs and then fumbling with his own pants, first freeing his arousal, and then digging around in his pocket. Reid heard a small snap, and then a cool gel was being spread over his entrance.

Fighting back tears, he slowly laid his head on the back of the sofa and he stared at the ceiling. His mouth fell open in a silent moan as his body stretched around Coronado’s invading member, and he could help but to arch his back. Then he groaned as Coronado began to move with long, full thrusts.

Neither men noticed the door opening. Paloma peered in. When she saw and heard what they were doing, her eyes flashed and narrowed. Her fingers curled and her nails dug into the wood of the door as she trembled in a jealous rage. She didn’t know what it was about Cachorro… she had no issues when her master lay with Preciosa, Sirena, Jaguar or Aguilo… but she wished death on young Cachorro… She wanted him gone. She began to think of how she could get away with it without angering master…

She tuned in on the pain she heard in Cachorro’s groans. She looked at him. His face was contorted in a grimace with no sign of pleasure… She could tell he wasn’t enjoying their master’s attentions… attentions that she or any of the others would readily accept. A sharp cry drew her attention again and she watched tears running down Cachorro’s face. She snorted in disgust; EVERYTHING made that whiney little bitch cry! What did master SEE in him?!

Hearing the sounds of her master reaching his climax, she leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms, scowling. A moment later, Coronado stood and tucked himself back into his pants. He watched as Reid slumped over on the sofa and lay there, trembling. He turned and walked away. Paloma watched as Cachorro slowly raised his head and watched Coronado go, his eyes burning in anger, pain and utter loathing. Then he winced and closed his eyes, lowering his head to the sofa and curling up.

Paloma stepped aside as Coronado walked out of the room, then followed him.

“Paloma. I will take my lunch in my study.” And fifteen minutes later, he called “Enter!” in response to a knock on his study door.

“Master.” Paloma said, walking in with the man’s lunch.

“Yes?”

“Permission to speak freely, Master?”

“… Go ahead.” Coronado said, leaning back and focusing on her, curiously.

“… Get rid of Cachorro.” She said, and Coronado’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at her… boldness. “He’s a snake. He cannot be trusted. He is NOT broken, he’s biding his time. He will betray you. He will betray ALL of us.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“… The way he looked at you in the library when you finished with him and turned your back on him. And during… he took no pleasure from what you did to him. He hated it.”

“He enjoyed it last night.”

“AFTER you had him drugged! He couldn’t help it!” Paloma insisted, throwing her hands up. “… Master… please… I am begging you… I don’t want to see anything happen to you… because if something does, it will be at his hand! I know it!”

“And what do you propose I do?” Coronado asked, amused.

“… Get rid of him! Slit his throat! Tie a stone around his neck and throw him in the river! Gut him and toss him over the wall for the jaguars! I don’t care! Just don’t keep him!”

“It took me a long time to get him back. I am not going to simply dispose of him. He will be what I want him to be.”

“Your hubris will be your end!“

“Paloma! Your tongue will be yours!” Coronado barked, and Paloma recoiled violently.

“… I am sorry, Master. I did not mean to speak so out of place.”

“Yes you did.” Coronado said. “Go.” She turned to go. “And if anything happens to Cachorro, you will be the FIRST I will look at.” She paused and clenched her fists, then left the room, closing the door. She went back to the library. It was empty. But there was movement out in the grounds… she walked over the window and watched as Cachorro slowly wandered over the green lawn, staring at the ground with his arms wrapped tightly around his own abdomen. And as the rain began to fall, so Cachorro fell to his knees. The rain fell onto his face, hiding his heartbroken tears…

“The other night…” Hotch said slowly. “You said that the first thing that will give us away is if I’m upset by what the masters may do to their slaves… What could I expect to happen?”

Winters sighed, setting down his coffee and staring at Hotch.

“It could be any number of things, Agent Hotchner.” The man said. “In the case of Cachorro—“

“SPENCER.”

“Sorry… Anyway, in his case, if he does anything that doesn’t please Arturo, he will physically strike him… hit him… he may force the boy to perform sexual acts on him, on another master, or with another slave. If this happens, I will make sure it is not with you.”

“Why!?”

“You’re a profiler Agent Hotchner. As is Spencer. Do you really think he won’t know it’s you?”

“… you’re right… he’d know. We’re… very familiar with each other.” Hotch murmured.

“… How familiar?” Winters asked. Hotch stared at the man, then sighed and held up his hand, showing the ring on his hand.

“I wear his birthstone.” Hotch said.

“… I suspected this.” Winters chuckled. “Yes, he will know you instantly, won’t he?”

“If he hears my voice, feels my touch… if we meet eyes.”

“You won’t.” Winters said. “You will not speak when we are there. You will not meet anyone’s gaze. You must ALWAYS keep your eyes to the floor. And you must NOT go near Spencer.”

“… It will be hard.”

“I know.” Winters said, placing a hand on Hotch’s shoulder. “You will want to rescue him right then and there. But if you reveal us… we will BOTH die. And I know Arturo… he would take pleasure in killing you. He will make your agent watch. And your Spencer will lose whatever ties to hope he still clings to.” Hotch nodded slightly, knowing that the man was right.

Coronado worked late that that. When he came to bed, he found his Cachorro curled up in his little pet bed, fast asleep. Coronado smiled down at him, then blinked and frowned. His Cachorro looked sad, even in sleep… And he had lost weight. Coronado snorted. As of tomorrow, he would need to start monitoring how much he was feeding the boy. But for now, he simply pat his slave gently on the head, draped the fallen blanket over his slender body and crawled into bed himself.

Reid was the first to wake in the morning. And so he decided to do some “exploring”. Once he passed one of the other rooms and saw that the other slaves were asleep, he headed down the stairs and then stood facing the door to Coronado’s study. He reached out and turned the latch. But it stopped only after a slight movement. It was locked. Reid frowned, and knelt. He examined the lock for a moment, then went to the kitchen and began to go through drawers. He left with a knife, a fondue fork and a Shish kebob stick. Then he hurried back out to the door of the study, knelt and began to work.

After several minutes, he heard it. A click. He grinned.

“Thank you, Elle, for the lock picking lessons. I am sending you a basket or something when I get home…” Reid mumbled, smirking as he stood and pushed open the door. He stepped in, then closed the door. The room was quiet, and slightly cooler than the hall. Heart pounding, Reid moved across the dark room, hands outstretched before him. His fingers finally came into contact with the large desk and he slid his hands to the right side where he had seen a desk lamp. He flicked it on, and then his eyes widened and his heart sang.

A phone.

He had found a phone.

Hands shaking, he picked it up, and began to dial. He clutched the phone tightly as it began to ring. He waited breathlessly for an answer. But as it continued to ring, he began to tremble in his anxiety.

“Pick up…” He whispered into the dark room. “Pick up pick up pick up…”

“You’ve reached Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Behavioral Analysis Unit Chief of the FBI. Leave a message at the tone and I will get back to you at my earliest convenience.” Reid closed his eyes, fighting back tears. It was SO good to hear Hotch’s voice, but he was near devastated that the man didn’t answer his phone.

*beep*

“… Aaron… It’s Spencer… I… I’m sorry… I don’t know what to say…” Reid stammered, laughing slightly. “I wish I could give you whatever information you need to find me… I… I really need you to find me, Hotch… I need you…” Reid sniffled and fought back a sob. “I really need you to get me out of here, Aaron… I don’t know how much longer I can hold on… Um… We’re in the Amazon rainforest… It’s a two story house and I can see the river from the terrace. And uh… I dunno… I… I just wanna go home, I… Aaron, I wanna go home!” By then, his voice was high and shaky as he was near tears… again. He was so homesick it was almost physically painful. “… I miss you…” He whispered.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. Reid yelped and jumped to his feet, eyes wide. The phone clattered down to the desk. Coronado stood there, staring down the young man who had plastered himself to the bookshelf behind him. Coronado’s eyes flicked down to the phone, and then flashed back to Reid, now blazing in fury.

“… Please…” Reid gasped, his heart pounding in his fear. “Master… please, I.. I just…” He trailed off as Coronado began to stalk towards him, and Reid knew that the man would not just forgive him. Coronado moved around the desk, and Reid finally found his feet. He bolted. But Coronado lunged and caught the boy by the elbow, flinging him around and slamming him into the wall. Reid yelped at the impact, and then choked as Coronado slammed his fist into his belly. The agent doubled over before dropping to his knees. Coronado raised his foot into Reid’s ribs, sending him crashing to the floor on his side.

“… You will pay for your deception, Cachorro…”

The other slaves peered in the doorway.

“Aguilo! Jaguar! Take him to the cellar. I will deal with him later…”
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Cachorro