BACKGROUND:
A recent U.N. report states that hundreds of thousands of people just "disappear" every year, never to be heard from again. The report speculated that such "disappearances" could be due to persons' attempts to avoid debtors, crimes committed, severe paranoia, marital entanglements, or military draft. But, allowing for all that, the vast majority of the "disappeared" weren't old enough to have incurred any of those problems. Indeed, the largest group of "disappeared" were young men and women in the age group 15-28 and most within that group were characterized by poverty, joblessness, lack of training in marketable skills, lack of parental concern, and non-marital status. More searching investigations by other agencies discovered both males and females within this age-group of the "disappeared" were also characterized by well- defined physiques and striking good looks - females had nice figures and attractive facial features; males were muscular, manly, and decidedly well-equipped. Almost none of those who "disappeared" ever reappeared back into their societies - once a person "disappears," almost without exception, they are never heard from again. Countries with the highest rates of "disappearances" are Bosnia-Herzegovina, Tajikistan, Chad, Uzbekistan, Burundi, Columbia, Afghanistan, Sri Lanka, Eritrea, Cyprus, Gambia, Rwanda, the United States, Venezuela, Canada, and Mexico. Thus, "disappearances" come from every racial, ethnic and religious groupings.
Where do these hundreds of thousands of people end up? Since no remains are ever found, it is assumed they are alive, but where? And what are they doing? Strangely, the number of people estimated to be modern-day slaves throughout the world is almost identical to the number of "disappearances" from the countries mentioned above. Contemporary slaves usually do the work no one else wants to do and at the lowest possible cost - their original sales price and their maintenance is the only cost since slaves are paid nothing and can be worked long and hard each and every day without any benefits, vacations, retirement costs, etc. But that 'grunge' work can be done by both kids and older adults. The prime-age group of slaves, 15-28, are more profitably sold off as sex workers, and females especially often find themselves purchased for placement in nationally syndicated brothels, as personal concubines, as members of a rich person's 'harem,' as a millionaire's 'pleasure slave,' or as a matron's 'pet.' Males in this same age group bring even higher prices, usually for service in specialized relatively obscure brothels catering to both female and male homosexual customers, as a rich man's 'sex toy' to be displayed at every opportunity within the hidden sanctuaries such slaves are usually kept in, as part of a billionaire's harem of boy slaves secreted away in some remote estate, as a pimp's 'street boy' charged with earning a specified quota each and every night, or, most likely, as a master or mistress' 'house boy' where the duties include cleaning, cooking, meal service, laundry duties, and, most importantly, discrete full sexual use of their slaves' body at any and all times for both themselves and their guests within the privacy of their own homes.
It is this last group which sets the scenario for the series of stories to follow which explore the background, training, eventual sale and the new lives of some of those who disappeared.
Case No. 1:
[The first of these tales is about a young man from an historic area for slave hunting - the areas touching the Caspian Sea.]
My name before was Khandik bin Ihadika. By before, I mean before I was kidnaped from my native Tajikistan and shipped by air freight clandestinely to a training center somewhere, I suspect, but never really knew, in the deserts of North Africa.
Back in Tajikistan, I was my father's eighth son and 14th child, not that he ever seemed to care very much. We were desperately poor even before I was born and, of course, even poorer as child after child was added to partake of the family's dwindling resources. None of us were ever taught to read or write, we couldn't count beyond 10, and knew nothing of history or world events outside of our basic very fundamental religious teachings from the Holy Koran. The one blessing all members of the family shared were striking good looks: fine brown head hair that arranged itself in tight curls, hairless bodies, bright green or blue eyes reflecting some Kurdish blood somewhere along the line, beautiful long eye lashes and high cheek bones, small mouths and thin lips, dazzling white teeth, and, as each one of us developed over the years, powerfully built physiques, huge sculptured rounded pectorals that encompassed our chest above thin wasp- like very muscular waists, nice rounded muscular butts, and manhood that was well-above average in size and protruded nicely as if to advertise itself. Even at 15, my maturity was almost complete and most of the village girls (as well as many of the village bachelors) eyed me hungrily every time I passed them in my old ragged clothes which barely covered me anymore.
But, even at 15, I had never 'known' a woman nor even slept with another village boy, although I was aware some of my close friends had at least experimented with another boy now and then and a few had bedded down a female prostitute, widely available in most any Tajikistan village since women had little options outside of prostitution if they lost their virginity before marriage. Although pre-marital sex was forbidden to the likes of me, homosexual liaisons were viewed most tolerantly since little harm could come of such encounters - the partners found pleasure and relief and no new babies fouled the waters or muddied inheritance issues. Hence, many married men engaged in extra-marital relationships with attractive boys, men not married went from boy to boy or even tried to support whole cadres of them, and young adolescents gained sexual maturity from experience with like kind while managing to keep the lid on their unwanted use of chaste women.
Perhaps it was my relative sexual innocence as much as my good looks that led to my being kidnaped by slavers. Of course, back in the old days, slavery in Tajikistan was common enough and even the smallest village had at least monthly slave sales where an attractive wench, a likely lad, or a burly worker could be purchased cheaply enough. The caravans brought in a wide assortment of human chattel so the land was sprinkled with slaves of every complexion, build, age, and temperament. But after the Soviet takeover in the 1920s, open slave sales became a thing of the past although slaves still changed hands often enough illegally until the end of World War II when the normal source of slaves seemed to evaporate and prices got so high no one could afford them anymore. But with the end of Soviet domination toward the end of the 20th century, black-market slavery re-emerged with a vengeance to fill a long unfulfilled need and kidnaping began the main source of new slaves. In fact, as a child, I simply got use to my friends just disappearing one day, never to be seen again. Although some within my village now owned slaves again, none of them were natives - all seem to have come from somewhere else and I, like most others, assumed those kidnaped were being sold off as slaves, just not in their home villages.
Now, based on my own experience, I knew those assumptions were true. One night I was grabbed from behind when out on the streets by myself with no one else around, felt a needle sink into my arm as a hood was slipped over my face. By the time I was struggling to free myself from my captors' grasp, I lost consciousness.
When I woke up, apparently days later, I was naked, had a heavy iron collar locked around my neck, and was in a cage so small I couldn't lay down other than in a fetal position and couldn't stand up without touching the iron bars making up the roof of the cage as well as the sides and floor of the pen. As I looked around, I seemed to be in a warehouse of some type where hundreds of cages were filled with naked bodies. One side of the warehouse seemed to hold females; the other side males. All were collared like myself, all were in the prime of their youth, and all seemed to be visually exploring their new surrounds just like myself. Strangely, everyone was quiet - no one was shouting, no one was banging the doors of their cages, no one was making defiant gestures. Everyone caged just stared outward at each other, was shamed by their nakedness as they tried to cover their privates, and said silent prayers to their God. All seemed to know intuitively they had been 'taken' as slaves based on what they had seen and heard in their native villages.
This warehouse, I was to learn later, was filled with exactly that - youth from areas where they were aware of slaves and where kidnaping was not that rare an event. These would be the easy ones to train because they already knew most slaves of their age were used for the sexual pleasure of their owners. As slaves, they would be used sexually among other things and a good part of their training would be toward that purpose. That didn't need to be explained to them - they already knew it.
Another warehouse, not too far away, was filled with people from very different backgrounds and expectations. They too had been kidnaped, but from areas of the world where slavery was so hidden few knew what slaves, if they even existed, did or did not do. For them, the whole idea of slavery was totally unreal - a fantasy if you will - and being used sexually for an owner's pleasure without their consent was totally unimaginable as well as abhorrent. Their training would be long and complicated. First, they had to be 'broken' to accept slavery itself; second, they had to learn that as a slave not only their body but even their will belonged to whoever bought them; third, their body was to offer their owner any pleasure they were capable of delivering; fourth, such usage was to be offered immediately, without resistance of any type, and with no outward indication of any resentment, embarrassment, or shame; and fifth, slaves were slaves for life - there was no release in this lifetime from their new status, indeed even their offspring, if they were ordered to breed, belonged to their master or mistress.
I, like most of my fellow slaves in that first warehouse, knew life as we had once known it would now be a fading memory. Our best chance to avoid intolerable pain and suffering at the hands of our cruel trainers would be to learn as quickly as possible what they wanted us to do and master how to do it as easily as we could. All of us in that first warehouse knew that slaves were just property as far as society was concerned; that masters and mistresses would use us for anything that crossed their minds or to fulfill even the slightest whim, that we would be symbols of power, authority, and status to those we would be displayed to by our owners, that most of us would be used sexually unrelentingly until we were too old to be attractive anymore, and that we would be expected to know how to please our owners in their sexual use of us with finesse and perfection. We would we expected to work in one capacity of another every waking hour of our existence; we could never expect to have our own wishes fulfilled, let alone any careers outside our owner's interests; we would work no matter how tired or exhausted or sick we were; and that our lives would require us to overcome all feelings of shame, humiliation, insult, and guilt no matter what our moral or religious background prior to our enslavement. Most of us had come from societies where these were common expectations for slaves and so we knew what would be expected of us now.
Training was exactly as we thought it would be. Deviance from our trainer's commands was met instantly with the cutting whip across our backs and butts, the cane when cuts would make us unattractive, and the electric prod for laggardness or insolence. We had to earn every scrap of food and water, even sleep privileges, through strictly conformity to their rules and commands. Even the 'privilege' of relieving our bodies of waste products had to be earned through compliant behavior. For the males, sexual relief was rarely granted despite constant stimulation of our sexual organs, and, after a short time, we found ourselves willing to do most anything, no matter how disgusting or degrading, to earn the 'privilege' of emptying our balls occasionally, usually as part of some sort of public exhibition.
At first, chronic starvation, constant thirst, and restriction of our sleep caused us to quickly master such basic commands as learning to display our bodies properly, remaining silent unless asked a direct question, kneeling in the presence of a master or mistress, and allowing others to fondle and explore all parts of our bodies, including those things once considered totally private when we were free. We quickly learned there was nothing we wouldn't do, no matter what background we came from, to get a tiny sip of water when you're thirsting to death. Our trainers understand that and exploited it unmercifully as we were shaped to our new lives. Later, the electric prods and the whips taught us to offer our 'holes' with no objection for the trainer's use in fucking us, to launch into a sucking of an offered prick with no hesitation and with the prick swallowed completely down our throat with no gagging or choking regardless of the prick's length or girth; or to stand absolutely quiet with our pelvis thrust out as far as possible while a trainer milked us if someone might want to sample our 'man juice.' Shame in complete nakedness and appearing fully aroused in public, let alone being used sexually in front of total strangers, faded quickly as every other trainee was totally naked at all times and bodily exposure seemed to be the least of our problems when getting food of any type was paramount. As our trainer told us over and over, "a slave is always a whore - it's part of being a slave" as if it were some great religious truth as indeed is was according to the trainers. They pointed out Christianity, Islam, and Judaism approved of slavery without exception and these three religions all admonished slaves to obey their masters in all things. In fact, many parts of the Koran, the Torah and the Bible clearly directed slaves toward total compliance to the demands of their earthy masters and those most relevant passages were painted on all of the training halls' walls as a reminder of God's will. It was clear slavery was part and parcel of God's master plan and if you were a slave, God must have intended you to be one.
Within a scant four months, we were fully trained and ready for sale. A full morning was allowed for inspection of the goods with the auction that same day in the afternoon. That particular day, 60 of us were being marketed, each of us, scattered throughout the room on all four walls, chained only by our neck collar so buyers could easily inspect all parts of our bodies and have us bend over, spread our legs, etc., with no difficulties. Fully cleaned and flushed out thoroughly, completely body shaved and well oiled with a separate spotlight highlighting each of our bodies, we watched as the doors opened and several hundred or so expensively dressed potential purchasers flooded into the auction hall. Most slowly circled the room initially to take in what was available that day and then went back to the displays that most interested them. A female offering was placed between every male offering to offer the best contrast - overall, there were 30 females and 30 males to be sold that day. Although four months ago, we turned beet red when exposed naked in front of the opposite sex, trying to hide ourselves until the whips intervened, now we thought nothing of it and no longer even saw anything unusual about wantonly displaying ourselves in front of women whether they be fellow slaves or women buyers. Indeed, most of us realized our fate depended on finding a good buyer that day and nothing, let alone some outmoded and certainly inappropriate notion of bodily modesty, was going to interfere with showing a buyer what we had to offer them.
I noticed there was a nice variety of bodies for sale that day - beautiful women and handsome men, pure white to jet black, short to tall, every eye and hair color available in human stock, and heavily sexed to moderately so. Among the males being offered, there were muscle-boys to swimmer types, young adolescents to men in their prime, some left hairy while most naturally smooth or closely body shaved, huge studs to those respectable, but not gigantic, those fully ringed (nose, ear, tit, and genital), partially ringed (tit and genital only),and those left unadorned, those with huge pectorals to those well defined but not puffy, those whose large close-to-their-body balls made sure they protruded naturally (like myself) to those who balls hung low and needed to be genitally ringed to protrude well. All the offerings, male and female, were in top health, excellent muscular tone, without blemish, and, by this time, completely trained to their new status in society.
The first inspection of my body was by a woman buyer who seemed disappointed with the size of my phallus once she had stroked me to a full erection and turned her attention to a female slave chained next to me, a full-tittied beauty from Greece who got wet the minute her sex was stroked. Neither of us, however, seemed to be what she was looking for and the female slave and I exchanged looks of relief that the ugly old woman wasn't to be our new owner. After that I was fondled, stroked, prodded and squeezed by two old men, both looking for a new catamite for their bed; a rich young aristocrat even younger than myself looking for a new diversion and something to show off to his friends; a middle-aged fat brothel manager from Mombasa looking for a nice looking "white" boy who had lots of years of hard service left in him for his mainly black customers ; a decadent- looking resort owner from Aruba looking for a new houseboy that would appeal to both his female and male customers vacationing at his resort with the sole intent of fulfilling their most erotic fantasies without restrictions or inhibitions; and, finally, a couple of athletically-built black men in their mid-30s who shared living quarters and a gay life style including, it seemed, a couple of live-in male sex slaves for their enjoyment. This last couple spent considerable time inspecting my body's muscles, holes, appendages, and facial features.
"What do you think, Lance?" one asked the other as he weighed my balls with one hand and stroked my erect shaft with the other. "He's hung nice and heavy just like we like them."
"Yeah, and his tits are nice too - big and juicy on those big pecs of his that would really look great when we ringed them, Charles," the man apparently named Lance responded. "He'd be a nice compliment to the two we already own - for one thing he's white; for another he's not muscle-bound; and, best of all, he couldn't be a day over 16 from the looks of him despite that huge prick he's sporting."
"Sugar and Buck are getting a little long in the tooth compared to this one," Charles said as he reached up and began squeezing my tits until they were erect and swollen, "but I doubt if he can suck as well as either one of them - when it comes to cock sucking those two we've got simply can't be beat."
"They take it up the ass pretty well too," Lance chuckled. "At least, I never heard you complain when you're fucking them and I know I think they're about as good as it gets in that area, long in the tooth or not!"
"Well, we better check this slave out in those areas before we plunk down hard cash," Charles advised and he signaled for me to sink to my knees with my mouth open.
Without embarrassment of any type, both men had me suck them, making sure I could take all of them without gagging, choking, or resistance of any type and that I knew enough to wrap my mouth and throat tightly around their large organs as they fucked my face rather roughly. Neither of them shot down my throat, however, saving themselves for the next step of their evaluation. Once satisfied I was well trained orally, they ordered me to get on my hands and wide-spread knees with my hole fully exposed and open to their usage. The man named Lance entered me first, thrusting all the way in quickly and humping me vigorously with full, long strokes that opened me up completely as I tried to stifle a slave's usual groans and moans as he is opened completely by a big organ thrust all the way up his hole over and over. When he stiffened with his release of a big load up my rectum, he withdrew roughly and was replaced almost immediately by his room-mate who was hung even bigger. Charles was slower in his pumping action, but went deeper with each stroke and when he finally emptied into me, his output flooded my interior so I felt cum running down my thighs and onto the auction room floor forming a big pool beneath me.
"Eat it," Charles pointed first to his prick, covered in cum and ass juice, and when I had cleaned him off completely and swallowed the residue, he pointed to his partner's similarly coated prick and when I had cleaned Lance off, he pointed to the pool of cum beneath me. I understood what he meant, and instantly put my face to the floor and licked up his and his partner's cum which had pretty well emptied out of me by now. Once again I was reminded that nothing made you feel more like a slave than being fucked on your hands and knees right in front of everyone, even more than the collar welded around my neck telling the whole world of my status along with my constant nakedness.
As I remained on my hands and knees, I risked looking up to see the two men exchange a knowing glance with each other accompanied by a little nod of their heads. Within minutes, I was being unchained from the wall and a leash was fastened to my neck collar as my ownership papers were prepared, signed, and properly notarized by the slave dealer. Almost immediately, I was led to the trunk of one of my new owner's car, their cum still dripping out of my stretched asshole.
The minute we reached "home," I was put in the hands of the two slaves they already owned who were considerably older. As they had stated back at the auction house, the two were extremely muscular, almost muscle bound, were jet black, were all of 25 years old, and were both very heavily hung. They both were fitted with very thick, tight-fitting tall slave collars that forced their heads up at all times, were both tit- ringed, and tightly banded around their genitals so their very large sex organs were thrust out prominently at all times. Both had hairless bodies that gleamed from a recent oiling, both were nude, of course, outside of their body fittings, and both were devilishly handsome in a very rugged masculine sort of way. They were perfect slaves for my athletically built new owners, it seemed, and I shuttered when I thought of them fucking me if that were ever allowed.
I found out in the next 15 minutes that my last premonition was true and both were ordered to fuck me for my owners' "entertainment," much to the delight of the black slaves who, it turned out, were seldom allowed to fuck themselves, usually being on the other end of being fucked. The ass reaming by the black slaves was even more powerful than the trials I had been put through by my two new owners and by the time the second black had discharged deep inside me, my ass was aching and raw and felt like it was so distended I would never regain normal shape again.
I did, of course, and my life over the next few years consisted of little else than endless house chores of cleaning, cooking, serving, sucking, and being fucked by my two black owners, and their two black slaves, Sugar and Buck. My owners' two black slaves treated me nicely enough despite their continual fucking me up the ass and they did "teach me the ropes" of how to be a good domestic slave under actual ownership. After a while, I got use to the routine, learned to respect my new owners and their power, and appreciated having two older slaves looking out for my best interests. I even got to enjoy being fucked, not only by my owners, but by the other slaves in the household as well. After all, this was my life now, and it could be a whole lot worse, especially when I saw the draft slaves out in the streets pulling the wagons under a steady whip with the cruel bits in their mouths and witnessed first hand the screams of slave construction workers constantly being disciplined by the bull whip and electric prods of their overseers as they labored from sunrise to sunset each and every day.
I realized how lucky I was to have ended up with two kind and considerate masters who seldom had to punish me and gave me plenty of slave chow and water rations twice a day so I was seldom hungry or thirsty. Even when they loaned me out to their friends to be fucked or to give blowjobs, they always checked me over when I was returned to make sure their friends hadn't permanently damaged my body in any way. Being kept kenneled with two other slaves kept all of us from ever getting lonely and gave us a sense of family few slaves ever had, let alone open access to each other's bodies once we were caged for the night. All thoughts of any family back in that place I was born were as distant as my remembrance of their strange language. And I was sure they remembered me no more than I remembered them at this point. All I really remembered was that I was better fed now, had more people who seemed to value me for whatever reason, and my two black masters and their two black slaves appreciated me more than anyone in my old family ever had, even if it was just for the sexual pleasure I was able to give them whenever they wanted. I had no desire to ever go back to my former life.
[Comments appreciated: anonymous4371@juno.com. Thanks. Bill Smith]