Andrew's Fate Chapter 4
Farook.
One might think that the trade in slaves, outlawed centuries ago, no longer exists but this could not be further from the truth. For as long as there are those ready to exploit conditions of poverty in underdeveloped countries and refugees from war torn areas of The World there will be men and women kept in conditions amounting to slave labour. In addition to that there will always be those with wealth and power to acquire both males and females as slaves to satisfy their lusts, sexual desires and depravities. Such a demand requires a market and also those who supply the market. It is my business to meet that demand, supplying fresh young slave boys to be sold to clients all over The World.
My cell block is now over half full. Two more white boys came in yesterday so that makes fourteen out of the twenty there is space for. Once full and the occupants suitably prepared I will be advertising the next auction sale. There are ten white boys and four blacks in the cells at present. The white boys are the favourites amongst my clients who are mainly from the Far east, Middle east and Africa and these boys fetch the highest prices. I have agents in most European countries looking out for suitable material for the market. It is so easy to pick up a boy on the Mediterranean beaches away from the major towns. These boys seem to have no idea of the risks they are taking, sun bathing or swimming from a deserted beach, until it is too late. That is how they snatched the Swedish boy I had whipped this morning. Other boys are plucked from a major town in holiday areas, usually late at night when they have had too much to drink. They might think they are in a taxi to take them back to their hotels but they never arrive. My preference is for white skinned boys who appear in their early twenties, as slaves of this age are more attractive to the buyers. A small number of my clients prefer black skinned boys of which there is a plentiful supply but these usually sell for less than the white boys. However there are four dark skinned boys in the cells at present and for some reason they seem to accept their new life as slaves more quickly than the whites.
I do not like to damage a slave before it is put up for sale but the new Swedish boy needed to be taught a lesson. I cannot understand why the slave thought it could escape. Even if it could have scaled the walls of the compound it would have been picked up by the guards outside. We are in an isolated complex in the middle of Kurdistan and there would have been no place for it to run to. But some newly captured boys do find it very hard to accept the reality of their situation here. I suppose it is only natural being uprooted from a cosseted western lifestyle to find themselves naked behind bars and in chains but generally they soon come to realise that their situation is hopeless.
I ordered the slave to be given just two strokes with the bull whip just to show it what will happen if it disobeys. The thirty strokes with the flogger were designed to provide maximum pain without causing marks that will last for more than a few days. The bull whip has caused raised weals on the slave's ass and thighs that will take longer to heal but many of my clients like to see the fading marks of a whip on a slave. It shows that the slave has experienced what happens when it disobeys its master.
On arrival it is important to break the will of a new slave quickly to crush any tendency to rebel and for this reason the first few days of captivity are deliberately very traumatic for boys suddenly removed from their former lives. The tendency to rebel is of course understandable but some boys do not readily realise that such behaviour is pointless. That a boy will submit is never in question. The only thing that is in question is how long it will take to break a boy's spirit and how much pain he will have to endure before he finally accepts his fate.
As soon as I have all the cells full and the boys have been shaved, pierced, branded and ringed and their cock cages fitted my overseers will commence the training necessary to prepare them for the indignity of inspection and display routing necessary to present them before the buyers at the subsequent sale. Customers like to inspect the goods on offer at close quarters and I allow then ample opportunity to examine any boy they might be interested in purchasing in great detail. This can be a very humiliating and harrowing experience for the boys which is why they must be trained for the ordeal. The slave is expected to adopt positions of display on demand and to submit to being handled by the prospective buyers. The slave must be passive and must not react in any way to being prodded squeezed and felt in the most intimate and humiliating ways. It must be taught to adopt the postures required to display its most secret charms so that a buyer can appreciate the slave's ultimate surrender to his desires and demands. And this must be done without the slightest hesitation so displaying the slave's unquestioning obedience. The process can take many days before I am satisfied that the slave is ready for sale and is often far more traumatic for the slave than the sale itself.
Occasionally I like to keep one of the newly enslaved boys for myself. Such is the case with the boy kneeling beside my couch at the present moment. It is a twenty year old German taken by my agents whilst on holiday in Rimini. The name on its passport was Hans but now it is simply slave number one pronounced "waahed". The boy reacted very badly to being put in chains which is why I decided to keep it here and train it myself . It has been here for three weeks now and its will is totally broken. I remember when it first arrived. When brought before me it had to be held by three of my staff and spat at me . I had it taken outside, strung up and given a hundred lashes. For five more days it resisted taking whipping after whipping. I had to admire its spirit but daily use of whips and canes have completely destroyed its ego and the will to resist. It no longer thinks as it used to. It no longer thinks of itself as a man with a will of his own. Now it serves me as a slave out of fear. It feels shame and humiliation but knows it has no choice but to obey and submit. It attends me day and night as my personal pleasure slave, responds instantly to the snap of my fingers and provides me with unlimited sexual pleasures any time day or night.
At present it is kneeling beside my couch holding a glass of iced tea within my reach whilst I puff gently on my hookah pipe but if I snap my fingers twice and order other refreshment it will put the glass down, bow its head to the floor, crawl quickly from the room and return to serve a cup of gahwa coffee. I watch as it kneels up, its knees spread painfully wide presenting its imprisoned cock and balls to my view. This boy's cock cage has tiny spikes inside just to remind it of my displeasure at its previous disobedience. The spikes do not draw blood but are extremely uncomfortable. I snap my fingers and instantly it obeys. It bows its forehead to the floor before crawling quickly away. It knows to look only at my feet unless worshipping my cock and it has learned always to adopt the postures that expose every detail of its lithe young body to my view. The slave is typical of arrogant westerners so full of their own importance and I smile as I recall its transformation from self opinionated young man to utterly subservient slave submitting totally to my will. I will use it to demonstrate what is required when training of the new batch begins. Just looking at it now as it kneels before me makes my cock hard. I spread my knees apart and snap my fingers. Instantly I feel its moist lips and tongue caressing my cock. It licks my pre cum before running its tongue deliciously along the underside and around the head of my rigid manhood before sucking and swallowing my ample length. It has learnt exactly how to provide the most delightful of pleasures to its master. Its re-education now complete, it actually seems eager to pleasure me and swallow but then it has no choice! That is what life is like when you own a slave boy and I can fully understand why my clients are willing to part with such large sums of money to purchase one. As I think about the lesson the Swedish slave learnt this morning I am confident that within days it will understand the hopelessness of its position and respond well to training.
Andrew. Time passes so slowly when locked in a prison cell. The only relief from the boredom is when we have to kneel behind the grills at feeding time. The rest of the time I sit or lie on what pretends to be a bunk and try to imagine what the rest of my life is going to be like. It frightens me when I see how we are treated here. It's as if we are just animals to be trained for their amusement. From time to time new boys are brought into the block. It is easy to recognise the new boys as they invariably have to be dragged to their cells, shouting their defiance. They do not have collars around their necks and still retain their hair. Once they quieten down peace usually returns to the cells disrupted only by the quiet sobbing of a boy recently returned from his visit to the branding room.
I am just dozing when the door opens once more and we jump from the benches to kneel behind our grills. Abdul and another overseer enter, walk straight past our cells and open a door further down the block. I hear the boy protest as he is dragged from his cell, past David and me and out through the door. The door shuts and we relax again. And so the daily routine passes interrupted only when a new boy is brought in, a boy is taken to the preparation block or we are fed. We never know when this might happen but must always be ready to kneel as directed with our heads bowed at the door to our cells. I am pretty sure that nearly all of the cells in the block are now occupied as the coming and going is much more frequent. It seems no time at all that the boy who was dragged out recently cursing and swearing returns. Now he is collared ringed and branded. He wears the steel cock cage as we all do and he walks meekly behind Abdul and in front of the other overseer who carries a whip. As he walks past my cell I see that his buttocks are now covered in bright red stripes. I can guess what he is feeling; my whole body still smarts from the whipping I received earlier. I cannot believe what has happened to us since being brought to this place but am now convinced that there is little I can do about it.
After what seems like days of coming and going in the block, of jumping up from my bunk to kneel behind my cell door and eating from the bowls of mush that are pushed under them, there is suddenly much activity. Abdul and several overseers enter the block and begin unlocking the cell doors. Soon we are all standing outside in the yard, a short chain linking our collars to the next boy in the line. Abdul cracks his whip and orders us to walk. I am fifth in the line with David immediately in front of me. I see that the brand mark on his buttocks is less red as it begins to heal. We enter a large building, are directed to line up against one of the walls and then told to kneel. The floor is wooden and not as uncomfortable as the stone of our cells. Squares are marked on the floor, each square having three circles and two foot shaped marks painted within them. We are ordered to kneel in a square with our knees spread wide so that they cover two of the circles which are some distance inside the edge of the squares. The two shapes with the outline of a foot are considerably further apart near the edge of the squares. Abdul tells us that, when we stand out feet are to be placed on those marks. He also tells us that, when the Master enters, we must place our foreheads to the floor onto the third circle at the front of the square. Abdul removes the chains linking our collars and then leaves the room leaving just two overseers who walk slowly up and down our line. In their hands they carry long coiled whips and I have no doubt that if any one of us moves they will not hesitate to use them. We wait for something to happen. I am getting used to this waiting and wonder if it will be a standard feature of my future life. But then the door opens and the man called Farook enters. As one we quickly place our foreheads to the circles in the squaresFarook walks to the far end of the room where I noticed there is a chair. He sits down and speaks quietly to Abdul.
'When I crack my whip slaves will kneel up' shouts Abdul.
CRACKKK and we are kneeling as we have knelt in the cells. Farook then claps his hands twice and immediately a boy whom I had not noticed kneeling in the doorway enters. The boy hurries across the floor on his hands and knees with his nose brushing the floor. He stops short of Farook, kneels up, bows his head to the floor and then prostrates himself, arms and legs spread wide. Farook ignores the boy at his feet and turns his attention to us. He begins.
'I am Master Farook and you are now slaves. You have all been procured by my agents who have been well paid for their work. So I now own you body and soul. You will shortly be sold in slavery to serve a Master but first there are some things you have to learn. You have just witnessed how a slave is expected to approach its master when summoned. The slave prostrated at my feet is my personal pleasure slave. I call it Waahed. It means number one or slave one. Like you it was procured from the resorts of the Mediterranean and like you it protested at its capture. But after its re-education and training it serves as a dutiful slave making my life easy and providing immeasurable sexual pleasures at the click of my fingers. If you have not already done so you will soon accept your status here and your future life as slaves'.
Then Farook addresses the boy at his feet.
'Slave, take up your position' he orders.
The boy instantly kneels up and bows his head to the floor. When Farook clicks his fingers the boy crawls quickly to a place at the middle of the opposite wall where he kneels facing us.
'First thing to learn' says Farook. 'slaves always wait for click of Master's fingers before obeying his order. Now you will each in turn practice reporting to me when summoned by the clap of my hands. First slave go to the door'.
The boy at the end of the live starts to crawl to the door but Abdul's whip soon lands hard across his rear.
'Slave wait for click of Master's fingers' he shouts. 'Go back and kneel nose to floor and wait'.
Now when Farook clicks his fingers the boy moves to the door. Abdul makes sure he kneels nose to the floor as he waits by placing his boot on the boy's shoulders. Farook claps his hands twice and I watch as the boy, who only days ago no doubt was enjoying his western lifestyle now scurries naked across the floor, bows and prostrates himself. I know in my heart that I need to get out of this place but I also know it is impossible and I shudder as I realise that I will be doing the same as this boy in a few minutes time. The first boy is ordered to return to the line. He kneels up and turns but Abdul's whip again slashes across his buttocks.
'Wait for master to click fingers slave' he shouts, slashing the whip again on the cowering boy.
I can see that the boy is trembling as he waits for the click of Farook's fingers that will allow him to return to the line. I know how much that whip hurts and I realise now that I will do anything that these men require in order not to feel it again.
Two more boys take their turn to report to the master and then it is David's turn. I watch as he places his forehead to the floor on the spot in front of him. Then he crawls to the doorway, waits for Farook to clap his hands and then hurries towards him. As he crawls as fast as he can Abdul follows flicking the whip between his thighs.
'Thighs wide slave' he shouts and David obeys.
David really looks as if he wants to please Farook as he bows and prostrates himself at the man's feet. In a few moments David is kneeling beside me and my turn has come. My stomach is churning as I wait to be called. I know I don't want to do this but equally know I must. Now before I realise what is happening I am kneeling in the doorway. I hear the clap of Farook's hands and begin to crawl. I crawl as fast as I can and am acutely aware of Abdul walking behind me. My thighs are spread wide and my nose is brushing the floor. I kneel up and bow. Then I prostrate myself on my belly arms and legs spread wide. There is silence for several minutes and I see Abdul whispering to the master. Then Farook speaks.
'Your demonstration of submission is now acceptable boy. It seems you have learned your lesson. It seems you accept that you are now a slave. This is good. You may confirm that you are my slave by kneeling up, bowing again and then crawling on your belly to me and lick my boots'. CLICK.
Without even pausing to think, I find myself bowing once again to Farook and crawling towards him. Then, as my tongue contacts his boots I realise that I am now truly a slave. He keeps me licking his boots for several minutes before ordering me back to the line. Kneeling back in my square I reflect on the past week. I can hardly believe what I have just done; what I have been forced to do. I can feel the tears running down my cheeks but dare not remove my hands from behind my back to wipe them away.
Eventually when each one in the line has followed the routing by crawling across the floor and prostrating himself Farook addresses the slave opposite.
'Four,' he says.
I watch as the boy opposite responds instantly and jumps to his feet. A second later he is standing, legs wide apart, his hands resting on the top of his head, his elbows forced back and his hips thrust forward. He stares straight ahead, his body totally exposed.
Farook then address us. 'The slave is showing the first position for inspection. This you will learn quickly as it is one of the positions you will adopt when you are inspected by my clients. In this position every aspect and detail of your body will be inspected. You will be handled, squeezed prodded buy those interested in buying you. You will show no reaction whatever when inspected and will make no sound unless asked a question. Then you will answer respectfully and address my men and my clients as "Sir". Any disobedience and you will be taken to the centre of the room and receive twenty strokes of Abdul's cane. You will now be inspected by my men and your details will be recorded. But first a lesson in slave obedience. You will watch the slave opposite as it responds to orders'. You will note the smoothness of its movements and its instant response to my commands'.
He nods to Abdul who turns to address the slave boy opposite.
'One' he shouts and cracks his whip.
The boy sinks quickly to his knees and bows his head.
'This normal position of slave to receive orders. Note how slave spread knees very wide before touching ground, arms folded tight at back, chest thrust forward'.
'Two'. The boy places his head to the floor.
'This how slave show respect to Master. Note slave nose pressed to floor'.
'Three'. The boy prostrates himself on his belly. 'Note slave arms and legs spread wide' says Abdul. 'This symbolic position of slave submission to Master'.
'Four' shouts Abdul. The boy jumps instantly to his feet and assumes the standing position as before.
'This first position for inspection' says Abdul. 'Note legs spread very wide, belly thrusting forward present slave cock to Master, head up, eyes straight ahead'.
'Five' shouts Abdul. The boy turns around, spreads his legs and bends to grasp his ankles.
'This second position for inspection. slave present ass nicely for Master.
'Six' shouts Abdul. The boy releases his ankles, places his hands on his buttocks and spreads them wide.
'This third position for inspection. Slave present pleasure hole for Master's view and examination'.
Abdul turns to face us. 'You now all slaves of Master Farook. You quickly learn these positions. We practice them now. Slaves must respond instantly to commands, watch this slave'.
He shouts an order at the slave boy opposite.
'one'.
The boy releases his posture, turns and kneels. His response is like lightening. In a split second he drops to his knees and bows his head.
'Head up' shouts Abdul.
'This how slave responds to Master's orders. Instant obedience , no hesitations. Master's pleasure slave well trained. Soon you be also'.
Looking across to the boy I see nothing but despair and sadness in his expression as he kneels with his thighs spread unbelievably wide his belly sucked in tight and his chest pushed forward. A tear runs slowly down his cheeks to drip onto the floor in front of him.
'So we begin with teachings' says Abdul.
Farook shouts a command and four men enter the room. In pairs they approach our line and the first two boys are inspected. Not daring to move I glance at the boy opposite and then to Farook. He and Abdul are discussing something but of course I cannot understand what they are saying. The inspection of the first two boys seems to take forever. It is not possible to see what is happening and I know I will feel the cane if I attempt to look. In the line we stare straight ahead not daring to move even a muscle. Inspection of the first two in the line over, the men move to the next. From the corner of my eye I can see that one holds a measuring tape, the other a clipboard. I try to blank what is happening from my mind but the scene presented before me and the humiliating display of the boy kneeling opposite us fills me with dread. I can only imagine what horrors he must have endured to obey the orders of these men like a trained animal and I begin to understand what Farook means when he informs us that we are now slaves.
There is a disturbance next to me and one of the men calls Abdul. The men exchange words in Arabic and the boy next to David is dragged forward and forced to his knees in front of Farook. A further discussion takes place and then Farook turns to face us. There is clearly frustration and anger in his voice.
'I am informed that this slave objected to being examined and measured. it had the audacity to flinch when toughed. Clearly this slave does not understand its status here. It will now be punished for its disobedience and as a reminder to all of you what will happen if there is any resistance or disobedience.'
The two men each grab one of the boy's arms and force his head to the floor whilst Abdul, a long whippy cane in hand, takes up a position behind the boy's exposed buttocks.
'Twenty' shouts Farook.
Abdul swishes the cane in the air a couple of times and then thrashes it down across the boys buttocks. I jump at the sound as it bites into the boy's flesh and his scream echoes round the room. Then blow follows blow in quick succession. The boy struggles to break free but the men hold him firm and his cries reach a peak as the caning continues. I lose count of the strokes; it seems many bore than twenty, and when the last one is administered the men force the boy up again so he is facing Farook.
'Are you going to obey me in future slave'? he asks.
The boy, held upright by the men on each side, is breathing heavily and sobbing as he struggles to compose himself.
'Answer me slave' shouts Farook.
Eventually the boy manages to speak. 'yyyy....es master' he replies.
'Take him back to the line and continue with the inspections' says Farook. then, in calmer voice, he continues.
'Let that be a lesson slaves. You have seen how I deal with disobedience. Slaves under inspection do not move, they do not react in any way when a master examines the goods on offer no matter what. My clients will be given every opportunity to inspect you intimately before they make a purchase and then at the auction you will present yourselves exactly as my slave here has done and satisfy any other requirements for display and obedience, that a future master may desire, without hesitation'.
Farook addresses his slave.
'Here boy, one'.
Inside a second the boy is kneeling at Farook's feet, head bowed. Farook spreads his thighs and clicks his fingers twice and the boy shuffles forward and buries his head beneath the white robe of the Arab. Farook leans back in his chair, a smile of deepening satisfaction spreading over his face. I am left in no doubt about what pleasure the boy, his personal slave, is providing beneath the robe.
The violence of the caning makes me shudder as I realise that my inspection will follow shortly. I know that we have no choice but to obey these men but I cannot accept the idea that I am a now slave and will be sold at an auction to the highest bidder. I just won't believe that such things can take place. But now I must believe it. Two of the men are now standing directly in front of me. I must not move. I must submit. I must stare straight ahead and not react in any way as my body is minutely examined, measured and recorded.