SUBTLE PLEASURE, Just say yes!

Pamir Carppo vs Cambilly Spencer We have only just begun. Subtle pleasure, just say yes. Enjoy! Pamir Carppo POV "I'm on my way," he answered the second he swiped across his phone screen.His impatience was unmistakable then he raised his index finger to quiet the other man. He paused briefly before asking, "Is everything under control?" "I am going to be there shortly," he stated, placing the phone on his desk and glanced at the man sitting opposite him. "This meeting is over," he said as he slid the phone into his pants pocket and stood up. The man across from him gave a nod, but did not move."May we reschedule?" the taken aback man inquired. Stepping around his desk, Pamir said, "My assistant will get in touch with you." The man, who had been waiting for this meeting for a whole month, said, "Can we make a date before-." "I have to leave," Pamir stated interrupting the man, who watched him approach the door making it clear how impatient Pamir was. It was a very cold and windy Friday, November 13th. Men, women, and a few children rushed around in their winter coats, snugged up tight. Nobody wanted to be out in this weather, but they needed to get things done. A few people were on their way home from work. Some even went out on dates in the few Bistros that had opened. But, while some could not help themselves, others were out on a mission. As for Pamir Carppo, on the other hand he had a necessary assignment to complete, and he was pumped, but not in a good way, as his driver drove to chamber 408, which had been home to James Perry for the past two days. He knocked once on the room door, and Paul, one of the men tasked with keeping an eye on James, responded quickly. "Boss," he greeted as the door swung open. "Where is he?" Pamir inquired, walking into the air-conditioned sitting area. "In the bathroom," Paul replied. "Why did he go alone?" Pamir inquired. "He refused to eat, so I assumed he needed to pee before..." Paul's partner, Daniel, spoke up. "Never assume," Pamir stated, and Daniel agreed. Pamir was not in the mood that night, so he relieved the two men of their duties and informed them that he would take over. His capo had properly trained them, and they knew better than to question his decision, so they grabbed their coats and rifles. They saw themselves out while James finished his number two in the bathroom for the third time that evening. He had been like that for the past two days, wondering why he had been brought here, and his stomach would not stop churning. What exactly had he done this time? He had no idea what was going on. James was aware of what chamber 408 was. He would hear stories, and he was not sure if he believed them, but since arriving here, he knew something was not right. James worked his entire life to avoid being caught dead in this room, whether he believed the rumors or not. So why was he here? It was the million-dollar question he kept asking himself when he should have been at home. All James had done in the last two days was empty his bowels, and Pamir's men let him. His stomach was a mess, and he had no idea what else he could have done, so he did the only thing he could. He used the restroom quite frequently. With a burst of impatience, Pamir removed his black jacket, rolled up his black shirt sleeve, sat in the dining chair facing the bathroom door, gun drawn, nose flaring, and waited impatiently while James did his business. He heard the chain flush, and fortunately, he did not have to wait long. After a few seconds, James looked up from his crutch and walked out, horrified. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, clearly shocked to see the previous men gone, and another sat with his pistol drawn and aimed directly at his crutch. This was no ordinary fucker, either. You would either swoon or cower in terror, and James was doing the latter. It was painfully obvious to James that this was a raise hell, devilishly attractive killer. "I hate a nasty fucker," Pamir said, clearly irritated and disgusted, despite the fact that he should have been the only one asking questions in this situation. How did I piss this fucker off, James wondered. Panicked adrenaline surged through his veins, causing his brain to go haywire. "Huh?" James exclaimed, his voice frantic. "Did your mother not teach you proper hygiene?" Pamir inquired. "What?" James responded with a lack of comprehension. Not that he did not understand the question, but he had no idea why it was asked. With a gun pointed at his manhood, James could not understand, so Pamir simplified for his benefit. "Washing your hands should be considered common courtesy." "What...what... is this?" James began to stammer. "A hygiene lesson," he exclaimed, darting to the door with the same panic coursing through his veins. Tonight, James' common sense failed him. Pamir flipped his pistol with flawless precision. He grasped the muzzle firmly. He could see what James was thinking from a mile away. "If I were you, I would sit the fu*k down," Pamir warned with a quick butt of his gun hitting James' right knee the moment he took off. "Awwww!" James yelled out. "We have only just begun," Pamir snapped, leaned over James and barely moved from his seat. "Ow!..." James exclaimed. James realized what he had done and what was about to happen as soon as he hit the floor with a loud throb and groaned with the horrible gurgle sound that left his lips. James groaned, "Oh God." "No! It is me!" Pamir made the declaration. James' knee was pulled to his chest, and he collapsed in agony. That did not deter him; as soon as he caught his breath, he was clearly considering his options as he stared longingly at the closed door, then back at Pamir. What a ridiculous time to develop a backbone! Pamir shook his head. "I did not come here to play, and I will not ask again," Pamir said, pointing to one of the chairs at the dining table with his Ruger MARK IV 22/45 Tactical Pistol, Silencer. James scrambled to his feet, hopped on one leg, and took his place at the table, pleading for his life. "I have a wife and two children, please." Regardless of how I have offended you, I beg your pardon." He pleaded as if his life depended on it, both hands outstretched and tears in his eyes. "I can not leave them alone in this world. Please..." James persisted in his begging. Pamir took a brief look at James' hand. Right then, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with them. Pamir said, "Funny you are thinking about your wife and kids." He had gathered all of the information he required since that day—he knew everything there was to know about James, including the dog in his back yard—and if it had not been for James' family, Pamir would have sent him to hell on a first-class flight. "I always do," James said, crying. "You were!" Pamir replied, retrieving his phone as if it were a normal conversation between old friends as he texted his capo. Another thing he despised was baby bad men. "Yes?" James stammered, perplexed, with not a glimmer of comprehension in his eyes or brain. So Pamir gave him a few minutes to think about it while he texted unfazed by his crying. Pamir was about to show him genuine tears, because he considered himself to be a fair-minded individual. "Here I am... thinking about your wife," Pamir said, finally looking up from his phone. James searched his mind again, but found nothing. Instead, he only felt beads of sweat on his forehead in the air-conditioned room. He wondered if it was money, but he did not have a single dime. Even though he had not eaten in two days, James wanted to use the restroom again. He could not stop the rumbling in his stomach and the weight in his descending colon. "Pearls dinner," Pamir gave another hint. James wondered about the dinner. What could this man possibly have there. His brain screamed in agony, but nothing came to mind. Except for that waitress, what was her name? he wondered. "You will know soon enough," Pamir promised. Sure, James was not a faithful man in any sense of the word, and he could not stop himself from passing a skirt tail at times because men fall for what they see and women fall for what they hear. That was what James believed, but he was not sure if he had caused any problems for this man. He would have caught himself right away because he was obviously out of his league. "Do not worry," Pamir leaned forward and tapped James on the shoulder with such force that he jerked and fell out of his chair. "Sit.Down!" Pamir's patience had worn thin by this point. James scrambled back into his seat, his mind racing in nanoseconds. He could not believe he had been so foolish to offend this man . Pamir stood up as a knock on the door caused James to jump again. James' wife was a woman of impeccable character, but her calaba was not valued by her husband. He did not appreciate what he had at home, and now he was staring at two men in black and down the barrel of a silencer. He was beginning to understand his error. Or did he? He would not have been kidnapped if he had returned home earlier that evening. He would have kept every promise he had made to his wife if he had gone home. But then he tried to remember what he had done the previous two days. When his gaze fell on Pamir's Capo and the bag he had placed on the dining table, James's thoughts came to a halt. A heartbreaking silence fell from the ceiling to the floor, but James still had not realized the specific crime he had committed. And he could not help but notice how the man who entered the room interacted with the other; it was clear he held him in high regard. James realized he had put himself in a dangerous position. Pamir, on the other hand, admired James's shaken, befuddled expression.It fueled him; Pamir was making his point, and he wanted it understood. Nobody touched his belongings. Pamir believed that there are three types of men in the world: those who will stay and love you unconditionally, those who will abandon you at any time, and those who are neither but cause far more devastation than leaving, which Pamir could not bear. James was one of those who left a path of destruction, and Pamir would not accept it. As Pamir stared at James, he was convinced he had never hated anyone more than he did James at the time because he reminded him of his father. "Shall we begin?" Pamir asked as he replaced his gun in its holster and unzipped the bag, which Tim set on the table. "What will happen now?" James inquired, looking directly at Tim as he pressed his back into the worn-out cushion of the chair. He could not help but ask, wishing he could melt into the fabric and vanish from Chamber #408, but that was not going to happen. "He is going to teach you a lesson," Tim said, and Pamir was ready to do just that. "I will show you better than he can tell you," Pamir promised. James felt awful as he gambled on his luck. "We have only just begun..." Pamir stated.