Remember to donate to Nifty archives if you can. It helps keep this community service going. Any responses or comments on this story by email are welcome. Enjoy!
The stinging sands on the desert wind were harsh on the white skins of the captured Europeans. The once proud and mighty crusader army had been ambushed and smashed in the hills of northern Syria. 500 dead, 300 captured. Stripped naked of both armour and underclothes, lashed together in rough coffle, the once magnificent knights tethered to their page-boys. Arses and manhood on display to the victorious Seljuks and for the arriving slave dealers of Basra and Baghdad.
Sir Armand, the 27 year old son of a Norman baron stood shackled to his 18year old page, locked into a state of shame and despair, seemingly oblivious to the lad's pitiable crying. Armand has been pulled from his horse during the last desperate charge to break through the Seljuks encirclement.
Had he looked around now he would have seen all that were left of his former comrades in arms, men from France, Italy, England, Ireland, Scotland, Spain and the German lands, all shivering in their naked vulnerability, pale arsed and shrunken dicked in the swiftly gathering desert evening. Some were being further humiliated by their captors. Lowly page-boys were encouraged with whips and flails to shit on the faces of their knights pinned helplessly to the ground beneath them. Other boys were already being buggered mercilessly by the Arabs and Turks while some knights themselves were having their high-born European assholes probed and scourged by laughing Arab boys. It was a scene of incredible shame to the defeated franj.
The approach of a rough Circassian merchant roused Armand from his dark reverie. The man approached in the company of a Seljuk commander. Though his page was fortunately unable to understand what these men were saying, Armand had no such luck. The commander was addressing the merchant
"yes Ibrahim! These white infidels are primitive indeed , and need considerable training. It is also true that they are not as strong or enduring as the Africans, but they make loyal slaves when once properly broken. They should fetch a good price as house servants. And, mark you! The youths! Are they not pretty? A fine white arse under 20 is a rare delicacy"
Ibrahim seemed unimpressed
"My interest is rather with the bucks and their breeding potential. The ones from the Celtic isles are clumsy and stupid but usually good bulls. The Italians and Spaniards are fine as presents for the women. Pretty and somewhat civilised, but otherwise weak. I think the French have the best balance of relative intelligence and virility. This one here for example"
The merchant stepped up to Armand and seized hold of his testicles
"This is good stock" continued Ibrahim "the problem is that it's spirit still assumes it is a highborn noble. It's defeat in battle is rarely enough to awaken it from such enchantment." He squeezed tight on Armand's manhood. The knight yelped and Ibrahim let go.
"yes, Ibrahim, I'm well aware of the problem of haughtiness among our newly captured livestock. But we have found that getting the beasts young lads to display dominance over them and to degrade them does go a long way"
"ah!" Sighed Ibrahim "yes, I've seen. But believe me, it takes more than being used as a privy by a servant boy to get these franj dogs off their high horse. Better to go the whole way"
With that Ibrahim went round Armand's back and slapped his 27year old ass cheeks.
"i find it best for the servant lads to really give their former lords a fitting reminder of their new equality" both Ibrahim and the commander laughed knowingly.
"Alright franj!" spat the commander at Armand " I'm sure you know exactly what is expected of you two now. Tell the lad to make free with your asshole. Do it now, or you'll be picking that pitiful white appendage up from the sand" he lifted Armand's manhood with the blunt edge of his scimitar.
Armand was forced to comply.
He spoke softly and falteringly to his young page
"Sebastian! Now, you must do to me that thing I sometimes did to you when we were together in sleeping quarters. You know it? Well, you must do that to me now. I will bend over and offer you my bum. I know you might think it's wrong, but you must go ahead and do it anyway. We have no choice. There's no sin in it my boy. Just go ahead"
Sebastian looked at Armand with a confused expression. There was despair in there, uncertainty, and a little of the devotion of a young page for his knight. But he did as he was told.
He went around Armand's back as the knight bent his knees and thrust his naked white butt out towards the lad. Sebastian hurriedly waggled his eighteen year old boy tackle into a hard-on. He inserted and pressed it between Armand's muscular arse cheeks Armand winced and moaned as he entered. Then, a stinging smack of Ibrahim's flail across Sebastian's own ass signalled the order to get to it.
The lad pumped away as Armand groaned and sighed and their masters laughed.
Finally the boy delivered his spunk load inside the humiliated knight and gasped in both exhilaration and exhaustion.
As soon as he had finished, Ibrahim -- now the owner of this pair of European slaves- busied himself tying a chord around the boys package and fixing it through between Armand's legs to Armand's. Such was a sign of his ownership.
They were then sped along with many cracks of the whips of Ibrahim's servants to his distant camp.
From there to be driven eastwards and to a future of servitude and subjugation. This was the fate of many such foolish franj who dared to assault the lands of the faithful.