The Customer/ Dexter's Saga Part 2 By Joystick
Disclaimer: This story may contain scenes of a graphical nature that may not be legal in your area. If you are under 18, or if material of this nature is illegal in your present location, please leave now. By reading on, you are confirming that it is legal for you to view the material in this story.
This story is a work of pure fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental, and no harm or slanderous intent is implied or intentional.
Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is both your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily. I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me - all e-mails will be answered to the best of my ability. Joystick56@Hotmail.com
End of Part 1
"I am an old hand at this. Not to worry." Achmed went over to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a black box. He opened it and removed a vile of tranquilizer drugs and a hypodermic needle. Filling the syringe he said, "this should keep him out for a few hours. He will be O.K. That will give you time to get him settled in his new home." He then administered the drug and the two men picked out a cheep rug and rolled Dexter up in it and then they carried him out and put him in the rear of the van.
Achmed laughed and said, "Just like Cleopatra. You now have a new queen."
The Customer - Dexter's Saga
Part 2
Sultan climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. What a pig he thought. But then am I much better? I'm only one rung higher on the animal chain than Achmed. I purchase, sell and rent human flesh. So who am I to cast stones, as the Christians say?
What was Sultan's business? He was the owner and operator of the best brothel in the city (in fact, for those who graded such things, his establishment was in the top ten of the country). He ran his establishment like it was a palace. Hence, one of the two reasons people called him Sultan. A listing of its clientele would reveal some of the most respected names in the country. To get into his place of business cost a small fortune. And that was just the admittance fee, and then there were the additional costs for special services, etc.
He liked to present himself as an unimposing man. But it was deceptive. He was quite the opposite and therefore the second reason for his name.
Sultan The Magnificent, and he was just that. He was huge. When he walked into a room women could not take their eyes off him and the men, well they died of envy. He was Sudanese and black as coal. On his shaved his head at a jaunty angle he always wore a fez. At first look one was reminded of the primitive drawings children love to make. You know the kind - where the arms and legs look like Bologna and the rest of the body looks like one ball on top of the other. He reminded you of that lovable Michelin tire guy in the ad. However that was a first impression. When one got to know him, his body and face were attractive in a rough sort of way. His skin was always clean and shinny. His arms and legs were tree trunks. Strong and well muscled, as were his chest and abs. His ass was made up of two black marble globes. Being six foot three inches he was able to carry all this beautiful body meat and not appear fat. Hell there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. One did not have to look any further for the perfect man... Many said that he could be the 'black Mr. Universe' if his face was more handsome.
Despite this women loved him - men salivated over him. The reason for this adoration it was the size of the cock and balls that hung between his powerful thighs. It was said to be at least nine inches soft, one and a half to two inches in diameter and black. Not brown as most black men's penis' were, but black. Clients loved to see that black baseball bat plunge into a white ass.
On those rare occasions when he would participate in the Saturday night Orgy on stage at his establishment the audience would be treated to a performance that they would never forgot. He was able to fuck like a piston. With his back straight as a board he was able to move his ass and cock forward and backward like it was a cannon firing off a round. They appeared to be separate from the other parts of his body. Plunging deep and rapid, his hips were a blur while the rest of his body was board stiff. It was something to behold. He was envied and hated. Perhaps it was because he was black and therefore an outsider. For all its boasts of Moslem equality, in reality it did not exist. It was still remembered that it was the Arabs that ran the slave trade for the most part. And they were still dealing in black flesh well into the late 1990s. Even today in some remote areas, one could still buy a black slave. It was true that today most of them were not Moslem but Christian blacks.
The ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. Damn things! If they weren't so helpful to the business I would smash the Devil's invention, he thought as he pulled to the side of the road and answered the contraption. No now was not the time to get stopped by the cops, for driving and using the phone, no with that cargo he was transporting in the rear of the van.
"Yes, Sultan here." he bellowed into the phone, "I am on my way back now. I will be there in about three or four minutes. I will need someone to help me with my latest purchase. Have Yussef waiting by the service entrance." He closed the cell and after checking on the rolled up rug in the rear and seeing that all was well he pulled out onto the roadway and continued towards home.
A few minutes later he pulled up to a set of heavy iron gates that opened at a signal from inside the small guardhouse and then closed as soon as the van was inside the compound. No one got in or went out without permission. Security was tight and was needed. Neither Sultan nor any of the local law enforcement people wanted any problems or incidents. He and his community had reached an accord with the local and state politicians. As long as the area was quiet both parties ignored the other and turned their backs on almost anything. Well it was not exactly a secret but most of the top town and state officials were frequent guests of 'The Magnificent One' and it would be very uncomfortable for both them and Sultan if their relaxation were disturbed. As an added edge Sultan had also been able to, shall we say, amass photographic documents and files on all his guests. Files that if they were made public, could ruin a man's life.
Sultan's establishment was now made up of mainly male prostitutes. While he did start out with female whores, he had early in his ownership learned that they were more trouble than they were worth. Females could work only two to two and a half weeks a month. Add to that the chance that the chance that they could become pregnant which would necessitate an abortion with its medical bills and lost time and you could see money going out the window. Most of the females were pigs and lazy and they were of little or no use in keeping the place clean. If it was one thing that his clients insisted on - it was clean beds and a clean atmosphere. Then there were the other choirs that had to be done, cooking and keeping the "palace" grounds in shape. As far as cooking - the males did a much better job, one or two of them had been professional cooks before they found that they could make more money selling their asses. Besides they were available for sex almost 24 hours a day seven days a week and when business was slow, the men would help out in any and all aspects of running the establishment from repair of the house to care of the grounds. The only reason he kept the few women he now had was for the sake of those customers who were not able to admit that they found men more to their taste or for the few customers that still liked to see a belly dancer perform.
As he pulled up to the service entrance at the rear of the house he could see that Yussef was waiting for him. He got out of the van and the two of them opened the rear doors. "What have you got here boss?" he asked in Arabic. "A rug for one of the rooms." "Careful I don't want to drop the package. It has been banged up enough as it is." Sultan said as he winked. "Just don't ask questions. Help me get it on my shoulder so I can get it up to my rooms." He carried the rolled up rug into the building and onto the service elevator. Getting out on the fourth floor (Sultan's private suite of rooms) he told Yussef that he was no longer needed. "I don't have to warn you to keep this to yourself. If I hear that you have said anything about this - I will personally turn you into a eunuch. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes Sir." He said. "You know that I never talk." Yes he knew that. Yussef was completely trustworthy and loyal. He had to be. Sultan had one of those big files on him and one word in the right ear and Yussef would become the plaything of the prisoners and guards in the County Prison for the rest of his life, which would not be that long, if he were lucky. He placed the rug on the floor and after Yussef left Sultan unrolled it. After ascertaining that it was still alive, he placed the abused body on the bed and cleaned him up as much as he could. Covering him, he could see that he was still drugged and sleeping. He went to the telephone and dialed his personal physician. "Doc, I have a personal favor to ask. Can you make a house call right now?" "What's wrong are you all right?" "I am fine. I need you to look at and treat a ... friend." He said not wanting to reveal anything over the phone. "Can you make it as soon as you can?" "This isn't a gunshot, or knife wound is it?" he asked. "You know that I will have to report that to the police." "Yes I know that and if it were that I would have reported it myself." Sultan said know that he would do no such thing, but just wanting to cover his ass in case his phone was bugged. "No it is nothing like that although he is in bad shape and needs a good doctor and you are one of the best that I know." "I am the only doctor you know and trust with some of your 'special medical problems'. I will be over within an hour." He said. If you need anything quicker, I would suggest you call an ambulance." "He is resting now and an hour would be fine. I will leave word at the guard house... and thanks doc. I owe you one." He said as he hung up. An hour later the doctor had come and given Dexter a thorough exam. "This guy has been drugged. What the hell did you do to this guy? I have never seen anyone like this. I know you yourself would never do this, but for my own peace of mind you must tell me the truth. I should really report this to the police but if you tell me the truth I will try to forget what I have seen. The faster he gets better the faster he will be able to help the police catch who did this to him. If the c ops got wind of this they would never let him get the rest he must have." He filled the doctor in as much as he could as the man treated Dexter and cleaned him up as well. "He is going to need bed rest for about a week or two. I will be in to see him tomorrow. I have set-up an I.V. unit that should last till tomorrow. It will feed him and keep him comfortable. When he wakes up give him one of these tablets every four hours if he needs it. Keep him in bed. Strap his hands down so he cannot pull the I.V. out or hurt himself. I will have a look at his rectum tomorrow to see if he needs stitches. I don't think he will, but you never know. He is lucky to be alive." "Thanks doc. I will take care of him myself. I really appreciate that you are not going to report this to the cops. See you tomorrow. Sultan spent the entire night sleeping in the big chair next to Dexter's bed. He applied cold compresses to Dexter's forehead and made sure he did not kick off his covers. When he awoke in the morning Dexter could not even remember his name or how he had gotten to this comfortable bed. He became frantic thrashing about in bed. Sultan and later the doctor assured him that he had temporary amnesia and that in time he would remember the important things. "You know there have been people like you that never remember all the details, but I think that in time you will. You are very lucky it is Sultan that is caring for you. Others would have just let you die." The doctor told him. "All you need is rest and in a week or two you will be up and about. Your body took one hell of a beating, but you are young and strong and it will heal quickly. I think that you will fine but if need be give me a call. You are to stay in bed except to use the bathroom. I will remove the I.V. If you have pain, Sultan has those tablets, use them." After the doctor left Sultan brought him lunch. It was just hot soup and some toast, but Dexter ate it up and then asked him questions about who he was and how Sultan and he were involved. "How do I know you? What am I doing here?" Hundreds of questions, and Sultan refused to answer most of them. "Later when you are better I will tell you all I know. For now you are in my care and I'm going to take good care of you, Cleo." "Is that my name, Cleo?" "Nope, I don't know your real name yet. I never thought to ask the man from whom I purchased you, what your name was. He called you that. But for the meantime it will serve as well as any." "Purchased me? I don't understand." "Yes I brought you. You are now my property. You were his bitch. Now you are mine!" The brothel keeper said, as he bent over Dexter's face and placed a light kiss on his swollen lips. "Rest and get well. We will talk about your past and your future when you are stronger." To be continued...