Chapter 7
I was forced to suck the cocks of 4 different men before being taken back to the cells. We are taught how to perform this task 'correctly'. They tell us that we must first excite them with our tongues particularly running the tip along the underneath but concentrating of the sensitive area beneath the cock heads. 'This technique will provide maxim pleasure for our masters' we are told. Farook's overseers invariably have large fat cocks with circumcised heads which fill my mouth and I am admonished if I do not excite their cock heads properly and probe their piss slits with my tongue. And we must never let even a drop of their cum escape from our lips. As I lie on the floor of my cell I reflect on what I have just done and what I have become. I also reflect on what I am sure will happen tomorrow when I know that I will have to take those big fat cocks in my ass. The sounds of protest from the other group in the training room as their asses were invaded still reverberates in my brain as does the sound of the whips when they were ordered to silence.
Eventually I drift off to sleep but all too soon the door to the cells clangs open and I scramble to my knees as required. The overseer attaches a leash to my collar and orders me out of the cell. Strangely he seem only interested in me. He leads me straight across the yard to the shower area where another slave waiting. I am ordered to stand in the inspection position with my hands on my head while this slaves washes me from head to toes. The water is warm, already heated by the Sun. I notice the figure of Farook standing in one of the doorways opposite. I am then ordered to stand over the communal toilet and bend double. A hose is inserted into my ass and I am filled with warm water. Then I am ordered to expel the contents of my ass into the toilet and the process is repeated two more times. The lease is reattached and I am led into one of the buildings where Farook had been standing.
The room is quite large, bare apart from a raised platform at one end. At the other end a section is partitioned off by a heavy curtain. Abdul leads me to this end of the room and orderes me to kneel facing the platform. He positions me carefully with my knees spread wide and my hands on the top of my head. He goes behind me and pulls my shoulders back.
'You will remain like that slave boy and follow any instructions you receive' he says. He then closes the curtain and leaves the room.
I am not sure what is happening, why I am here. From the corner of my eye I see a camera and I know I am being watched. I wait but before long I hear voices and chairs being moved. There is much conversation mostly in Arabic. I hear Farook's and Abdul's voices interspersed with one I do not recognise. Then suddenly the curtain is drawn aside. There are four men seated on the platform, the one in the centre is brown skinned. He is dressed in fine clothes and beside him is kneeling, a slave boy. The conversation continues and I know that all eyes are looking at me. Then Farook speaks.
'On your belly slave, crawl to My Lord Hassan'.
I know I have no choice so I quickly comply. Keeping my nose to the floor I crawl towards the platform until I am just a few feet away. Farook orders me to stop. Kneel up and bow my forehead to the floor and then to resume my previous position. Now I can see the man in the centre at close quarters. He is undoubtedly Arab and his fine clothes and golden sandals suggest he is very rich. His face is passive, rather thin with a scar on his left cheek and a thin pointed black beard. I glance at the slave boy at his side. Between his outstretched arms he is holding a glass of golden liquid within his master's reach. The boy is white skinned with European features and can barely be out of his teens. He wears a wide golden collar, golden rings through his ears, nipples and nose. A golden chain around his waist and a golden cock cage and there seems to a further ring tightly encircling his balls beneath the cage. On his belly just above his cock is tattooed an ornate crest in multicoloured inks. He stares straight ahead with a look of desperation on his face. The man takes the glass and the conversation continues.
'On your feet slave, inspection position' the man speaks in perfect English.
Somewhat startled by this unexpected event I hesitate but then struggle to me feet. Farook signals to Abdul who instantly lashes me hard across the buttocks with his whip. Then Farook speaks.
'Down of the floor slave. When a master speaks you respond instantly, is that clear slave boy'?
'Yes Master' I quickly reply.
There is a pause. Then the man speaks again. His voice is soft but deliberate
'When I click my fingers you will immediately assume the position for inspection. Is that clear slave'?
'Yes Master'
I wait whilst the man says something to Farook. Then CLICK.
Instantly I jump to my feet, spread my legs wide push my chest out, shoulders back and place my hands on my head. I stare straight ahead. The man turns to Farook.
'The whip is a good teacher I think Master Farook. Is it not so'?
'Indeed it is My Lord' replied Farook.
The man places the glass into the hands of the kneeling slave and stands. He approaches me and begins his inspection. I dare not move as he runs his hands over every part of my body. His hands are soft, smooth unlike those of Farook. He pays particular attention to the muscles of my chest. Squeezes my nipples and traces his hands over my belly and thighs. He lifts my cock cage and squeezes each of my balls making a comment to Farook that I cannot understand. Then he goes behind me and turns his attention to my buttocks, slapping and squeezing them. He orders me to bend at the waist and at the same time Abdul comes to stand in front of me. I feel his hands on my buttocks as he spreads them wide. Then a finger is inserted deeply exploring my ass. I hear more comments and murmurs of approval as the man apparently amuses the others. The finger is removed. I am ordered to stand once again whilst the man returns to my front. He holds his finger to my lips and I know what I must do. Humiliation wells up within me as I take the finger in my mouth and suck it clean. Then the man resumes his seat. He speaks once again to Farook.
'Well at least the slave has learn something about what is required' he says.
Farook agrees but points out that I am not yet a fully trained slave and the man nods in agreement. Farook orders me to kneel. The man then takes the glass again and issues an instruction in Arabic to the slave. The boy immediately shuffles forward to kneel before his master, bows to the floor and then moves forward to release the tie in the front of the man's trousers. They are of the loose pyjama type typically worn by Arab males but fashioned from shiny red and gold silk like material with gold braid. The boy then separates the front of the garment exposing the man's cock which is now fully engorged. The boy backs away, bows again and resumes his position. There is precum glistening at the tip of the man's cock and I am in no doubt as to what will happen next. The man speaks, quietly again and in perfect English.
'Now boy I wish you to demonstrate how a slave performs devotion to its master's cock. You may attend to my pleasure boy'.
This is only a day after the first time I suck a man's cock but I do not hesitate. I immediately bow by head to the floor and then shuffle forward. The large plum head of the cock enters my mouth and I close my lips over it. I lick up the precum making sure I suck every bit from the piss slit. I then immediately seek out the underside of the head where, I am told lie the most sensitive nerves, with the tip of my tongue. The man leans back in his chair and a murmur of contentment issue from his lips. I take the cock deeper into my mouth licking and sucking along its length. It feels large and extremely hard in my mouth and I even feel the blood pumping along its length. Now it is pressing on the back of my throat and momentarily I gag. The whip lands again across my buttocks and I recover my breathing. As taught the previous day I now turn my attention once again to the tip of the man's cock. More precum seeps from the tip and I suck and swallow. My tongue now traces the outline of the thick plum head and further murmurs of contentment erupt from his lips as he spreads his thighs a little wider.
'Move your lips back and forth along its whole length slave' He says. Mmmmmm that's good, continue'.
I try to remember what the overseers had said the day before. Keep your month and tongue moving constantly but slowly to prolong the master's pleasure and if his breathing rate rises then slow down but never stop moving your tongue unless instructed. I also recall being told that a master does not wish to climax until he clicks his fingers. ;Causing your master to cum before he is ready will bring you a whipping', Abdul had repeated several times.
So I continue to lick and suck slowly moving the cock forwards and backwards in my mouth. I begin to sense an increase in excitement and the man breathes more quickly. So I slow down but he immediately clicks his fingers. My tongue works harder. I care not what I am being forced to do. I just want to please this man and get it over with. I feel the cock starting to spasm and then his salty cum starts to squirt into my mouth. Now I suck and swallow as hard as I can, not daring to allow a drop of his cum escape from my lips. I suck and suck until the cum stream finally stops but remembering yesterday afternoon continue my efforts as the cock slowly softens. The whip strikes my buttocks as Abdul instructs me.
'Down of the floor slave nose to the floor'.
Quickly I withdraw but immediately the whip lands again.
'Knees wider ass up slave'. I hear Farook's voice sounding none too pleased.
He apologises to the man for my sloppiness of posture and assures him I will be soundly whipped later.
'The slave will soon learn' says the man with the laugh.
As I kneel with my thighs unbelievably wide the men continue their conversations in Arabic but I know they are talking about me. How could it possibly have come to this I thought remembering the peace and seclusion of the beach in Italy. Then I hear the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor. I am ordered to kneel up and see, to the side, a metal frame with a bar at about waist height.
'Get over the bar' orders Abdul.
Not wanting to feel the whip again, this time I move like lightening which reaction brings some merriment from the men on the platform.
'The slave learning' says Farook unable to hide the expression of satisfaction in his voice.
Abdul quickly fastens my wrists and ankles to the base of the frame as I am bent over the bar. Then I feel something cold and greasy inserted into my ass. I hear Farook explain that I have not received ass training and as such my ass is virgin.
'No matter says the man, I wish to fee how tight it is for myself.
'Of course My Lord' replies Farook.
Now I see Abdul's feet in front of me and feel his hands on my buttocks as he spreads them wide. Then what I assume to be the man's rigid cock pressing at the entrance to my hole. He presses harder and then thrust in forcing his cock deep into my ass. I gasp at the painful invasion but am rebuked by Farook.
'Silence slave. A slave must make no noise when a master makes use of it, NEVER! It is extremely disrespectful to interrupt his pleasure with your noise. You will be punished for that'.
Now the man is pumping my ass, in out in out and with each thrust the pain is immense. I breathe heavily as the onslaught continues on and on for interminable minutes before finally I feel his hot cum squirting deep into my bowels. The man withdraws and quickly returns to his seat and from the corner of my eyes I can just see the young slave boy kneel between his thighs to clean his master's cock with his mouth. If there was any doubt before it is now very clear that the sexual servitude demanded of a slave in this place knows no bounds. The slave bows and resumed his position as once again the man leaves his seat. As he does so I see Abdul hand him the whip. The first stroke lands across my back but then he turns his attention to my buttocks. He whips them hard, stroke after stroke until I completely lose count but I know I must not make a sound or the punishment will go on and on. Eventually the torment stops. The man resumes his seat. I am released from the frame and ordered to kneel at the man's feet. Quickly I crawl to him and kneel, nose to floor. My ass is high and my thighs as wide as I can get them as I know I must.
I hear Farook and the man in deep conversation. Obviously I can understand none of it. Then suddenly I am ordered to kneel up and bow. I comply but keep my head bowed. Then the man speaks.
'I have many slaves, boy' he says, now in the familiar quiet voice. 'You have just been inspected to see if you might be suitable to serve me as one of them. I am a cruel Master and expect perfection in the servitude of my slaves. I believe that the whip is an excellent teacher and trainer if I am ever displeased with a slave's servitude as you now probably know'.
He says something to the slave beside him. The boy instantly crawls forward, bows to his master and kneels, ass up, nose to the floor.
'Look at this slave' the man says'. It was American, purchased from Master Farook just a month ago. As you can see it is now very well trained for my purpose'.
I look to my side. I can see the boy is struggling to maintain the posture His buttocks and upper thighs are a deep red and purple and covered in darker red weals which partly obscure the brand mark burnt into his flesh. I can only guess what pain he has had to endure. The man continues.
'The slaves servitude is now acceptable, though not yet perfect but what you see is the result of my training. As I say the whip and cane are excellent teachers. I have not yet decided to bid to own you at Master Farook's next auction but he has assured me that on the sales platform next week your performance, your understanding of your status and your obedience will be beyond reproach. He will ensure that it is. And you can now understand what I expect from my slaves. Do you understand slave boy'?
'Yes Master' is my reply.
The man clicks his fingers and the slave returns to his previous position and picks up the glass, holding it high between his outstretched arms, his head bowed. Conversations continue, again in Arabic. Then suddenly I am ordered to the floor, spread-eagled on my belly. The men get up from their chairs and leave the room. All except Abdul whom I can see standing at my side.