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Chapter 28
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The relationship between the King and I flamed and died. For three of the following four weeks we fucked each other at least two or three times a day. Even on occasion behind the curtain in the throne room when he felt the need for me was more important than whoever might be at the far end of the room waiting. Salman had become a permanent attachment, at my bedside or two steps behind as I conducted the King's business.
The Spanish are still slightly repressed, no where as nearly as badly as the Americans but the Prime Minister spoke to me half a dozen times the first week that Salman followed me about having him dress more properly. By that time, suits had been discarded but men still wore more formal clothing in the palace than they wore on the street, their bodies nearly totally covered in the King's presence. Neither Tito or I would have cared, we both enjoyed seeing new flesh even if we couldn't take it into account when ruling or choosing to make suggestions to the Parliament. It probably was a good idea to keep them covered in the throne room, very few might have interesting bodies. Salman was determined to wear what was often seen in films as what most Roman slaves wore, he had an attachment to the past surprisingly, more to Rome than anywhere else. If anyone had explained to him that Persian slaves at the time were dressed differently ( I think it was a longer skirt, half way to the ankles?) he might have changed his short skirt to more appropriate attire, but I wasn't going to be the one to cover him more fully. Why? Although only seventeen he had developed a chest that was a beautiful distraction when the petitioners became too boring. Don't take me wrong, not to play with which I liked just to look at.
I had noticed a slip of flab on my on torso so I had started joining the slaves every morning on their runs or in the exercise pits, with my own time training in Tai Kwan Do. I had convinced the King to back up court an hour. I couldn't let myself slip physically at this point in my life or I would be a solid block of flab by the time I hit forty, I would only need to picture my father to force myself through the exercises. We ate exceedingly well in the castle, so I was even more concerned for my health and the King's. Salman and I both lost an inch around the waist from the long runs and a bit of fat from elsewhere, I never could tell exactly where the weight or flab went. The King was not as athletic as Juan Diego and had no dreams of running in a marathon or any where else. I was still pushing our negotiators to allow slaves to compete for the country where they lived but a year out there was still no answer from the Olympic Committee.
Ferdinand had imported a Tai Kwan Do master from Korea to push me harder and to teach my slaves one hour a day. I didn't know if the matter of who was permitted to compete would be resolved by the time the Olympics were to held in Mumbai but I wanted to train anyway, I'd be ready. Despite having trained since I was a pre-teen I was in the best shape I had been at any time since I had been in competition four years earlier. As the King's Regent I was not able to travel to the many competitions being held in preparation of the World Championship and then the Olympics. Tito promised me that he would allow me to compete in the last two world competitions before the Olympics, traveling with me to Cuba and Liberia both of which had become strongholds of power in the martial arts competitions over the past ten years.
Imad (he finally admitted on the way to the competition he had learned some from the master I had been learning from in Saudi Arabia).and I entered a competition that was held in Madrid, the first of three that would determine who Spain would send out to the world as its champions in the different classes. I had thought Spain had left its Papist teachings in the past and become more tolerant of differences but entering the locker room where we were to dress for the matches we were not actually bombarded with the hateful names directly, still the background was filled with all the filth that no homosexual ever wants to hear, in Spanish, Portuguese and English. I had thought Imad would have been the contestant to start fights over being called names but he was cowering close to my side while we dressed, not the best frame of mind to take to the mat for his matches.
"If you ever want to hold your head up and tell the fools around you to stop the insults you are going to have to step onto the mat strongly and destroy your competitors. Simply winning is not enough for us in this situation. The teacher thought you would be good enough to win at the Olympics so the competitors out here today need to know that, by your actions when you step on the mat. Don't let that lull you into thinking that there isn't another boy in your class that hasn't trained just as hard and learned just as much, there always is, no one is one top of the world all the time.. We will have to give as much here today as will be required of us every step of the way.
"The man over to your right? If I am his competition he will come back in here and suck us off before we head home. I don't think of sucking cock as humiliating, but it is obvious he does." His comments were too ignorant to repeat here.
It was not the best competition match I have ever seen but there were a few boys that had learned what to do and were doing it fairly well. Imad did as I had told him and destroyed every competitor he faced. By the end of the day he was rated number 1 in his class and given the best chance of heading to the Olympics of anyone close to his size. I on the other hand had not beaten any of the boys and men I opposed by more than two points, although I had won all my matches leading up to the finale. It was to be against the man I had pointed out to Imad.
Earlier in the day I had the chance to watch him defeat an opponent so badly the other man had left the stadium, before the results had been announced, limping to the left. As he stood being announced as the winner I remembered him, I had defeated him in the world championships the year before the Olympics. He had been a nasty fighter then staying just on the permitted side of moves that were meant to damage an opponent not display ability. Even winning the match I had gone to the next round with a damaged left hip that made many moves impossible and I lost badly. It had taken me four months to recuperate, too long to compete in the finals of the World Championship.
He was no better in displaying prowess, four years had made him sneakier in his attempts to destroy his opponents. I made sure to watch his last match before ours, I wanted to be certain I knew what that kick was that he used to eliminate so many.
"Hola, Maricon"
"I haven't seen your stupid ass around in four years, Jorge Mendoza, still giving it up to all comers?" If he thought he would get in my head by calling me a 'maricon' he was out of his mind.
"Don't be crazy, Olly third place. It was your ass that was taking on all comers." That was as far from the truth as he could have hit, I was still a virgin back then, but it hurt.
"That must have been you, but after today we'll know. After I beat you I'm going to follow you into the dressing room and stuff your mouth and ass with this ten inches." I had been playing with myself enough to get my cock to stretch out to its full length, when I groped the cock hanging down my right leg he saw that I meant what I was saying and that I had the cock I said I did.
"Don't let your mouth hang open like that Jorge or I'll think you want to suck me right here in front of your family and the country." We were being televised because of my presence. I didn't mind, it was sure to give Tai Kwan Do a boost throughout the country. I thought it must have been the first time that he had ever seen a cock that almost hit a knee. Let him worry about it invading his ass while trying to defend against me.
When our match came up he was still talking trash. I calmly told him that it was either his ass or mine, I thought his. Of course I had no question that I would win, I am better than him and an honest fighter other than when attacked off the mat. He started out strong, holding his own legitimately. I thought perhaps he would stay clean but then I saw him start the combination that had caused the hip problem the last time I fought him, fool. I moved in close with a left step and when he went to deliver the devastating kick I move in hard with my right hip landing with my knee hard on his balls as he landed on his back half off the mat..
I was punished with a one point deduction. It didn't matter, I drove hard after that and wouldn't let him get a stance completed before delivering two blows of my own, after we rose from the mat. The match was over by the end of the first period, I had delivered two full contact kicks to his head. He went to his corner staggering and didn't return. I followed him to the changing room, the Royal Security Force had not permitted anyone other than competitors in all day, I asked that there be no one allowed, now, we wouldn't want any casual observers or family. Walking in, there was not a single competitor wearing clothing, Imad had told them about what I had said to Jorge Mendoza and were prepared for whatever might come. I'm not sure that they wouldn't have been just as pleased had it been my ass.
I laughed. "Well Jorge, looks like your friends are ready to enjoy you pleasuring them this afternoon. However, I get your mouth and ass, first. Get undressed before they strip your clothing off. Whether he was trying to be a good loser or was really willing receive another man dominating him with his cock I don't know, but he didn't object.
The blow job was not good, his mouth was too dry to do much and he gagged repeatedly when my cock hit the back of his throat. His ass was a different story. Imad did the honors of lubing us both up, I didn't give him a chance to tighten up after Imad removed his fingers. I was not there to be making love or friends. I plunged in, forcing at least six or seven inches of cock into him. He yelled that I was hurting him, I didn't care and the rest of the room simply laughed in response. The bastard had hurt me so bad four years earlier that revenge was all that I could think about, a virgin asshole for a hip, a fair reckoning. I pulled out part way and with the second hard plunge drove my cock all ten inches in length deep into him. After that it was strictly hard fucking without a care for the ass being plowed, no pleasure intended less given.
Out of the forty boys still in the locker room when I started to demolish Jorge there were at least fifteen of so that forced their cocks in his mouth. He was still laying on the changing bench being fucked when I finished showering and dressed. Imad had counted eight boys mounting his ass while he and I cleaned up.
"I told you that we would hold our heads up when we left here today. Do you think we destroyed the competition?"
"At least his ass, Master."
"You let a slave fuck my face?"
"Jorge Mendoza, you had two slaves fuck your face and your ass. Imad is my slave and I am still considered a slave until the International Court rules on my status." I walked out with Jorge being filled at both ends by much younger boys., tears flowing down his face from the humiliation of having slaves fucking him, not the pain There had been some boys that had started talking to Imad after he won his matches and in the locker room after he gave them a hint of what was to come. More talked to him after he had fucked the older man, right after me. They wished him well at the next match but stayed back not sure if they should talk to me. They shouldn't, I had heard most of them saying the same things Jorge had been saying and wasn't completely satisfied with my revenge, any of their asses would have sufficed to satisfy my need to avenge their ignorance, if I heard a word when we competed in Seville there would be another victim.
"Olly, there is a crisis in Rwanda that has enveloped our embassy. We need to do something! Are you willing to go there? I know its not what you are supposed to be doing.
"I promise I will not meet with the Parliament or rule on anything more complicated than a football score."
Football score? He had less interest in Football than the average housewife. What was he hinting at?
"What is the problem in Rwanda?" I wasn't even aware that we had an Embassy there, the country is so small it didn't make too much sense. For the next three hours I was given the background information and then brought up to date about the supposedly illegal activities of three non-Rwandan citizens that had taken refuge in our Embassy. That might have been enough to cause a crisis between the two countries but the Rwandan civilian force had taken two of the men's families as hostages, the third had no family. I knew exactly where the conversation was headed. Prince Mehmet had said that one of the countries that they were in discussions with to create a slave pipeline out of Africa was Rwanda. Salman had hinted that Rwanda and a few other African countries had listened to the Princes' presentation and were negotiating the enslaving of any non-natives for sale to the Arabs much as they had done centuries earlier to the British.
The week after our dinner with the Princes I'd had the King issue an evacuation order for Rwanda to avoid the slavery transport charges after I'd been advised about their plans. Now the King was kicking back by making me travel there. I had been trying to distinguish myself from Mehmet since sold to Juan Diego., the latest change being my agreement to regrow hair on my chest for Tito, I'd already stopped the treatments on my face and had a shaping of hair on my chin that I thought made me look stronger. I know I should call him King Ferdinand but as long as I am called to his bed he shall be Tito unless we're in public.
Rwanda has a population not much different in size than our Papist population. I wasn't too sure why this crisis had begun although there were the videos of Pedophilia and further sexual activities the men were recording for sale to the rest of the perverted world. Juan Diego had shown me one of their recordings before we returned to Spain, it had been seized from a man that was opposed to him returning to power and it was supposed to be planted in his baggage and seized when he returned to Spain. Still, that had been happening at least fifteen years that could be traced maybe longer.
There was enough of a negative feeling about children being exploited that the video would have been enough to block him from ever becoming King. His feelings had been that if the world wanted to buy what they were selling he would stay out of the way although he no intention of being involved himself or allowing Spain to be involved. I had understood his stance but now the three men had drawn the government of Spain into their business, not a business that the current King approved of in the slightest having had his own experiences on the streets of Madrid.
"By the way, congratulations on your win this afternoon. Why were you so destructive of your opponent in that last match?"
"Your Highness, when Imad and I were changing, he started out in the locker room with vile name calling about our sexuality. I told Imad that the only way to come back into the locker room and leave with our heads held high would be to destroy our opponents. It was almost time for our match when I recognized Jorge Mendoza my opponent as the fighter that had left me unable to compete in the World Championships four years ago. Besides that he deserved to be turned over to the rest of the competitors to use in any way they chose, he is a full time bully.
"I can't imagine him sitting when he makes it back to Barcelona."
"You raped him?"
"No, your Highness, I let him know before the match that when he lost I was going to fuck his mouth and ass. He stripped and laid on a changing bench without me having to tell him anything or force him into it when we returned to the locker room after the match. But, there was a gang bang, which was still happening when we left."
"It might be good for you to be out of the country. Do you know who his father is?"
"No, should I?" I was running the name Mendoza through my head but wasn't finding anyone."
"He is the Deputy Prime Minister, Olly."
"Maybe it would be better to stay and fight if needed. I wouldn't want either of them to think I was running from a confrontation."
"No, go. I will have my staff and the Security Force to aid me if necessary."
I hadn't ever wanted to cause my King that type of problem. I was there to solve problems not create new ones. "Hell. Mendoza deserved every cock he was given or forced to take."
"The official jet will be ready in an hour. Can you be ready that quickly?" He was getting terrific at ignoring conversations he didn't want to hear.
"As long as I can represent you in robes I am ready, he wasn't pleased to always be seeing me in robes, but I had learned that they were much sexier than western clothing and if properly picked easy to slip out of.. Since arriving from Morocco I had a bag hanging with what I would need for any trip longer than overnight. Other than telling one of the slave boys to pack two wraps and a robe for himself before picking up my bag there was nothing for me that required my attention other than going over the papers he had handed me. I had showered watching the gang bang.
"Please, leave Yasir for me." With Ahmed and I out of the nation, he needed some one, I would have rather had Yasir with me, but he is my King.
"If you wish, your Highness." I had been thinking that I would take him, second choice? Ahmed had taken Ihad with him to Kuwait and could have met me in Rwanda but I decided he deserved the break.
"Salman, do you feel properly enough trained to go on a state visit?"
"Your honor, I don't know. Are we going to be examined by hundreds of cameras?" He was not much better than me at having his picture snapped, I hate it.
"Not this time. We will be in negotiations day and night and I will need to have you bringing me whatever I tell you. You will need to quickly learn the layout of the building, where we meet and the surroundings, should I want as small an item as a folder or as large as a vehicle from the Embassy. If I haven't sent you from the room you will sit behind me to the left and remain expressionless.. This will not be a vacation. We may have to work 24 hours a day to contain the problem, so far it is a two nation issue, we will need to keep it that way.
"If the Rwandans are not working with me you may need to be more than just a urinal crawling under the table to provide the service I need."
"Are you saying that I may need ..?"
"Yes, have you been trained to eat shit?" I would much prefer to take a break but if it was necessary Salman would need be there.
I had never done that sort of training or been with anyone when they forced a slave to eat their feces, the closest I had been to one that ate shit was the King when he had been in the hut, before we washed him there may have been evidence that he did more than live in shit. I had never heard anyone come forth with a claim that they had fed him shit but now that I would not be with him would be the most opportune time since his anointing. I had been a buffer from those types of accusations..
It wasn't that long of a trip but I was able to read the information the King had handed over. The fight crew had been trimmed down to just a pilot and copilot, to limit possible sources of information.. A decision had been made to keep this as secret as possible, those men were as tight lipped as any in the Kingdom. I was glad the King and Prime Minister had agreed, that would be the best way of starting any talks that might bring the families back. I had spoken with the King, letting him know that I was not too set on bringing the men back to Spain where they might face as little as two and a half years should a prosecutor be persuaded to lump the crimes together. Leaving them in Rwanda might be a death sentence but what did they expect when they began abusing children.
"Salman, how old were you when you first had sex?" I remembered him at sixteen being revolted by the idea of sucking cock.
"Master, the first time I had my cock sucked I was about eleven, the following day my father moved from that to fucking me.."
"So the rejection of your father in Morocco was just you trying to get me to take you away from him and give you over to the Royal Prince?"
"No, your honor, I love my father and my brother Salim but my father needs to learn to bathe. He has some of the worst body odor you will ever run across. He never properly cleans after fucking any of his sons so he carries the scent of their asses with him, ten assholes can get mighty powerful although Salim always tried wiping him before our father would leave him weeping."
"But you have been trained to eat ass and shit."
"I was trained to eat shit directly from the trainer's asshole. I was never very good, but Master if you need me I will do as you tell me. I have never eaten shit that has been sitting there for a week or more, your honor. That training was cut short when the Prince brought me to you." They were trained to eat different shit in the camps?
Demanding cleanliness myself I didn't know what the difference might be, I didn't say any more, I hoped to keep his mouth clean.
Upon landing in Rwanda I went directly to the Embassy to learn if the status had changed since the King had been briefed that morning. In the Embassy were two slaves that had trained at the camps in Kuwait while I was there, one of whom had been in Camp (50) a short young man probably just at the age limit for being enslaved. I didn't remember his name, it wouldn't have mattered, his owner only ever called him boy as he moved around the office. I was introduced to the Ambassador and a lawyer the Embassy employed to understand the intricacies of the Rwandan government. A few more men joined us in what the Ambassador jokingly called his war room. I explicitly told him that there was no need for the three refugees to join us.
I wasn't given much more information than what the King had handed me. There did seem to be one "sin" the Rwandans were more concerned with than just the abuse of their children. It turns out that one of the men had coerced a boy of nine, a chief's son, into the compound. The men were caught recording the sex acts among children, with the three of them and two dogs they had picked up on the street. More than likely all the sex wouldn't have caused the native run civilian force to attempt seizing a Spanish civilian but the Chief's son had been tied down and fucked by both dogs. If the child had either been a girl or ten years old the chief's complaint would have been ignored. Sure it would still have been the rape of an innocent but a ten year old would have been expected to take his own revenge on the men, such is Rwandan law and culture, if his father was a powerful chief the compound might have been destroyed and the men killed.
I was taken to what looked like a minor government building on the edge of the city. As I entered it I realized it was a jail. Lined up going back maybe fifty or sixty feet were lines of cells filled with men, women and children. I didn't count them the first time I was there but it looked as if there were more than two hundred people in the jail. They had separated the women and children from their other prisoners, it didn't help much as the cells were so full it was easy for a man to grab whatever he wanted from the cell next to him. While I talked to the chief of the civilian force, two girls that I would say were no more than eleven were grabbed through the bars and forcible, anally raped without the police saying a word to the rapists. I don't know whether it was good or worse that the prisoners were not able to pull them close enough for more traditional sex, at least there would be no more children to rape that way..
There only seemed to be one woman that was in need of a doctor. I spoke with her in French, she quite loudly said if she would not be allowed to take her child with her she would not go to a doctor.. When I saw the child I didn't blame her, he was less than five, naked and wrapped in her shawl. If I had insisted that they both be removed we would have had a riot of prisoners claiming to be ill. I would try to have a doctor sent to the jail but I doubted anyone would be willing.
Salman tapped me on the shoulder, afraid to speak. I looked where he was pointing, a foot or two to the left of the boy in a shawl was another little boy maybe a couple years older trying to look up under my robe. I didn't know if he was just curious or had already been so sexualized that he was wanting the first white man he saw in two days.
When we exited the building I was happy to take a real breath of air that was not fetid. There were mostly women gathered wanting to know when their children would be allowed to leave. They didn't have any respect for the Civilian Force., I heard complaints from every mother that the force might have been involved in helping the three men find the children on the streets of Kigali. They had heard their children screaming from behind the stone wall that enclosed the compound the men had occupied for many years. There were only a single brother and sister that were willing to tell me about what happened inside the compound, they had survived and been released miles from their homes when they were too old for the men.
I asked them to speak to me separately.
The girl met me within sight of her mother that sat on the ground watching the entire time, the daughter tried to describe the horrors of having been behind the compound walls. She had lived there for three years. Not only had the three men that lived there used her sexually but they would have visitors that some children were turned over to on a regular basis. She and her brother had been favorites of one man that came from South Africa every few months to have the two of them service him at the same time, once he was spent they would be expected to pleasure each other. They knew it was wrong but were determined to live and find a way home, There were others that preferred her or her brother but she didn't cared to speak of them. Once home they were both sent back to the city as no longer children of the tribe, disgraced by what had been done to them. As often in Africa and the Mideast, blame the victim.
Now her brother had to work as a prostitute and she had found a job that paid less than he made but it did not force her to sell her body. She had been out of the compound for six months. Her job was nearby and she was able to watch who came and left. Recently, she couldn't say how recently but within the last two months for sure, there had been two Arabs that looked like me that had visited the compound. Their second day there the men had gone out into the city and returned with two gigantic dogs she was sure were for one thing only, they looked to be larger than the two already inside. The men stayed within the compound the next few days. When they left they had four of the older children with them, but no dogs.
Runihuru walked up just as the girl was leaving the table we had taken outside the small cafe.
"We must leave this place. The man here will not allow me to sit on his chairs." I knew there were parts of the world where that was the state of gay men. I hadn't thought to ask about Rwanda before leaving the safety of Spain and my King's bed.
"What can I get you to drink?" He may not sit at the man's table but there are very few people that refused money waving in their face if they can convince themselves they didn't compromise their moral principles..Coke Cola, the great equalizer.
We walked through the city. I listened to a tale much like the one the girl told except that he was often expected to rape the younger children especially as he and his cock grew. There were months that he wanted to chop it off instead of hurting one more child. As he spoke of those months and years he cried. I did not know how to comfort him, but I did a side hug that I hope didn't mean anything sexual in Rwanda, he needed a parent not another john..
"Now that I am no longer in the compound I have no where to turn for sex. Not that I want the little ones, I miss the nights I would spend in Rogerio's room. He taught me how to suck his cock and from the time I was first taken he fucked me."
"How long was he doing that."
"I was four when they first took me. I'm fifteen now, I have been free for a year.
"I wish Rogerio would take me back. I would rape the children for him if that is what it would take." He was really missing the cock that had fucked him for ten years, I didn't know if he was gay or if it was an extreme case of Stockholm syndrome. He was a good looking boy, but he had never developed many muscles while in captivity so he seemed too thin.
"What are you doing with your life now, Runihura?"
"I sell my cock or ass when I can, I know that will soon get me jailed. But at least in jail there will be be men that want me. This is a very lonely life." He was still crying.
"Do you speak the native language? I can speak French and English, but neither Swahili or Kinyarwanda.."
"I can speak Kinyarwanda, but not Swahili, most of the tribesmen only go to the market or stay out of the city completely."
"Would you like to stay with me for the next few days, possibly translating as I need for anyone refusing to use French or English?"
"You are right, they would know English but might refuse to speak it. You will pay me?"
"I will pay and I might even fuck you" He looked at me hopefully then made a motion towards Salman.
"He might, too, although his cock is smaller than mine."
"Mine too."
"How are you sure you are smaller that mine?"
"No, mister. You are smaller than me." If he was so proud of his cock to say that, I was almost ready to pull mine out in the middle of the street to compare."
Rubbing his hand on an enormous bulge he asked if we wanted to see. Well, if he was fifteen, I thought he was of legal age here although man to man sex isn't. I nodded and he lead me through an alley that would have been considered disreputable in any city in Morocco where I had seen alleys that seemed too scary to really exist. We turned around a small donkey cart left in the alley, then stopped where he couldn't be seen and he dropped his pants.
Fuck, Shit, Hell, God. I had been fucked by thirteen inches but I was standing there with the hugest cock I had ever seen that wasn't attached to a horse. I didn't know what to do. Salman did. He told the boy that tonight he wouldn't need to worry, that he would get all the sex he needed.
"Mister, it is dangerous in Rwanda for a boy my age to go to a strange hotel room. May I bring another boy with me?"
Was I being set up to be robbed? I was wary of it.
"Runihura, having two strange boys in my room is scary to me, you could rob or kill me."
"No, no. You put money with hotel. I want fuck and Khozito he like white men, suck and fuck." I didn't doubt that given a frontal attack I could use my Tai Kwan Do to defeat him and his friend but who was to say they would come for me from the front. Still Salman and I both wanted more of that donkey dick.
I showed Runihura the hotel where we were staying, introduced him to the front desk clerks letting them know he would be back to help me with translating but might have a guest with him that spoke Swahili. They looked at me with that strange look that tells you the listener is suspecting something illicit but isn't quite sure what it might be and would humor you for the time it took to understand what was wrong.
I spent some time on the phone with my King. He wasn't pleased when I told him that there was no getting to the business until at least the day after the next. We had arrived in time for a city holiday that would start as the sun rose the next day and not stop until the following day at sun rise. I had some idea that both sides in the negotiation would be too tired to accomplish much and I would be on my third day in Rwanda before any real talks were held. The idea of hunting through the city for the two families seemed futile, out best hope was that the Civilian Force would help once the other issues were solved. I had Salman join me for dinner as a friend, not a slave.
We sat in front of the hotel after dinner watching the men go by, waiting for the boys, I was thinking that I may have been stood up when Runihura walked up from the opposite direction I was looking with a younger boy that I was sure would have excited the bidding even in Kuwait, who seemed to have as many African slaves as they wanted. The four of us sat at the outside dining area, I felt like the Ugly American flashing cash as I attempted to impress the boys, they were really doing most of the seducing I was tempted by Runihura's cock but everything about Khozito had my body humming. I affirmed that the boy spoke Swahili and could act as a second translator if needed. There was nothing in the least feminine about Khozito but his body sang out that he wanted me to fuck him again and again.
I put my wallet and the two rings I had worn into the hotel safe. I made sure I was the only person to be permitted access and gathering eight cokes from the gift shop went up the elevator with the boys, unable to touch them due to a religious couple haranguing them about the sinfulness of the holiday starting at dawn. I got the idea that the holiday was a primitive ritual that had remained a part of the nation's culture even though it was hard to find anyone that knew what it was supposed to mean. Even many of the Swahili would flock to the city to join millions in celebrating as many as a hundred parades which would move through the city with members of one sex or the other carrying enormous replicas of cocks. Only the men would have balls in their parades, they often would have stallions or bulls, also..
After the couple left us five floors below our destination I started to quiz the boys on what would happen the next day that would have upset the couple so badly. It turned out that the holiday was the one day of the year that any kind of sex was permitted in the country, in public. If we walked the streets the next day we were likely to see anything we could imagine. Runihuru recalled seeing two men trying to get the bull a Swahili man had brought into the city to mount them, they had settled on giving the bull a blow job and sucking on his low-hanging balls. Khozito told them about seeing a boy about his age running in the streets naked, being fucked every time he approached any foreigners. I decided we would be out on the streets the following day early, I wanted to see as much of this festival as I could.
Just like I had in Spain, Morocco, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait before I touched the boys I invited everyone into the shower together. These boys may have lived a life of poverty but they were glad to get in the warm water and soak away their soreness. Soap and hands were everywhere. I found the second boy was more drawn to me than Runihuru but that was fine with me, I wanted his ass. But before we went into the bedroom I had my slave on the floor drinking what piss I could give him. The boys were shocked at the idea of anyone drinking piss without being beaten into submission, Salman hadn't gotten to his feet yet while they questioned him about why he would drink my piss. When they learned he was my slave they looked at me again, only the very richest people in their country owned slaves, I was sure the cost of translation had just doubled.
I was glad they weren't opposed to the idea of slavery. Not everyone accepted the idea after all. After learning that he was my slave they didn't treat him any different, other than slapping him on the butt when I sent him for anything, which I did just to see it. How he took that entire donkey dick is beyond me. I started the night allowing Khozito to fuck me. I thought I might be up for a rough or inexperienced fuck, but no, Khozito knew what he was doing. His cock was not at all thick but it was nearly as long as mine, I enjoyed that first fuck to the fullest. We switched places, he may not have ever been fucked before (Runihuru said that as I lifted the boy's legs) but he tried his hardest to allow me in and once in worked with me as I fucked him. I think that is the tightest ass I have ever been in. He may have been tight enough to break a pencil.
I was resting in the middle of the bed after fucking Khozito, he had gone to the bathroom. I think he was bleeding and wanted to check to make sure it wasn't too bad. Runihuru leaned over, he was fucking Salman for the second time. It was a nice warm, wet mouth. He was able to take my entirety and do like I do when self sucking, lick my balls, he was better at that because of a wider tongue? Practice? I loved it. He asked me to stand over Salman to make the angles better, Khozito returned and without anyone saying anything went to work eating the cum out of my ass, his.
I had already cum twice but Runihuru was able to suck another load out of me. Khozito had managed to get his cock in Salman's mouth while eating my ass, the boys drove my slave ecstatic, he shot cum over his chest and Khozito's without having his cock touched. He took the two loads he had been working for and passed out with Khozito's cock still in his mouth.
"I wanted to try pissing in his mouth." Khozito had tried shaking Salman to rouse him but the boy was out for the night.
"Runihuru, Khozito needs to piss. Open your mouth for him."
I doubt it was the first time he ever had to drink piss. From all the brother and sister had told me went on behind the compound walls, I would have been surprised. He did it without spilling a drop and kissed Khozito's cock on the tip as his friend crawled up beside me.
"Who is going to drink mine?" I was the only one that was still awake enough to do it, but I wasn't going to start a day of sex off with the two knowing I drank piss..
"I shook, Khozito, It is your turn to give it a try. Go in the bathroom, if you are unsure about what you are supposed to do I think Runihuru can talk you through it."
I followed them. Khozito stepped into the tub and Runihuru motioned him down into the tub. I stood back to watch. If it went well I had some more that I was going to give the boy I'd fucked, my urinal was passed out.