2088

By Bruce Turner

Published on Sep 21, 2023

Gay

2088

chapter 15

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2088

Chapter 15

The African and the Swede hanging side by side made for a wonderful fantasy for those that would care to indulge in dreams of whipping two magnificent males with no ability to resist. I personally couldn't resist looking at the damaged ball sacs and thinking of the testicles sitting in Jamaal's hospital room where he could look at them when his need for revenge was overwhelming him. It would probably be part of a more sadistic whipping but I intended to avoid the sac, enough had been done there. They were still plugged with the dildos from the day the attacked Jamaal. Beside the whips on a table off to the far side were two dildos that were enormous, not the thirteen of so inches that were in the pair but pieces of carved wood that looked to me to be close to sixteen inches long with a hand hold for a base. There were designed to punish the interior of a man and the two slaves were going to suffer if the Agency had a say in it.

I could only remember my bruised asshole as I watched the dildos being pulled from the slaves by two muscular slaves that were enjoying the job. They each grabbed one of the wooden dildos and stood behind the slaves. My asshole throbbed with the remembered pain, still it did not make me feel any sympathy for the pair that had attacked Chuckles.

"Prince Osama, shall they work the dildo in gradually or shall they insert them in one move." It seemed odd that Mehmet deferred to the Prince but I guess there are times when it doesn't hurt to allow your boss to have the final word on some things. At least he hadn't made me make that decision in front of the Agency.

The slaves brought the wooden cocks over so that everyone from the Agency could see exactly what the slaves would be living with for the next week. They were polished smooth and waxed, but the natural bumps from small limbs had been left. I would pass out if anyone tried to stick one of them up my ass. After his men saw the dildos the Prince told Mehmet that Monsieur should be treated more gently but that the guard would have the rougher dildo inserted in one swift push. Well he had the option to allow that, but it didn't mean that my whips needed to follow those instructions, after all guilt climbs the ladder and Monsieur at the top of that ladder was responsible for the guards actions. They didn't know it yet but they were both going to be caned on the dick hard enough for me to be bathed in blood, especially the brutal Monsieur.

"Prince Mehmet, you may proceed."

"Thank you. Ali will begin their punishment with a traditional cane."

We had discussed this and had agreed that since their legs had been left untouched that first evening that it was a good place for me to show the Agency that I was willing to leave no part of a slave free from suffering. I started just below Monsieur's butt and with his legs spread did my best to leave parallel welts down to his feet, I then worked up the other leg. I moved over and a little lighter but not too much did the same to the guard that had actually committed the rape.

Monsieur had done little more than groan at the caning but the guard was crying and sobbing to be put to death. Standing in front of the pair, Monsieur glared at me with such hatred that I lost any feeling that what I was doing was in any way wrong or too brutal. I started at the top of their arches and with more force than I had used on the other side left parallel lines leading to my real target, their cocks. If I had possessed a knife I would have removed more than half of Monsieur's humongous cock, still leaving him more than most average men possess. I think he saw on my face what was going to happen to him, it was the only time that I saw the slightest hint that he felt any fear.

The men that had inserted the dildos came over to help me and when told what I wanted moved a table over for me to access one side of the cocks. A dozen stripes on each man's cock had Monsieur hard (not only a sadist but a masochist?) but the guard screaming for relief. Monsieur had started to bleed so when the two slaves used a thin strap to hold the cock against his stomach his ball sac was coated in a thin stream of fresh coppery smelling blood. I only gave the guard another dozen stripes on his cock, I was tired of hearing him scream. When I moved to start once more on Monsieur I felt a satisfaction in hurting a man that had hurt so many others excessively. If he was never able to use his cock again, I would have served my slave the revenge he deserved. There was not the tiniest bit of the surface on his cock that was not caned, live with my memory Monsieur.

I was allowed ten minutes before the Agency was prepared to see if I had mastered the other whips to their satisfaction. Akbar stood beside the slaves, for my first presentation with the bull whip, pointing to specific spots on the two sweaty, bruised bodies. Out of thirty or forty spots he pointed out I only missed one that I had to do a second time (I admit it was intentional). He had pointed to the head of Monsieur's cock, I had the tip of the whip hit his shaft in the same place as I had with the previous strike, breaking the skin wide and an artery gushing blood down his leg. His nipples were both bloody by the time Akbar choose to end the demonstration.

The other two demonstrations went satisfactorily with further damage and pain inflicted our their cocks and nipples. The quirt is not a whip that causes much damage but it can be painfully on damaged skin. The teaching we had received on using a flog at the camp had not been to cause pain but to caress the victims body to succumbing to the flog wielders desires.

My Master had spent some time the previous day having me practice with a more vicious version of a flog. The one I had to wield had sharpened metal tips that left bloody marks every time they hit flesh. Prince Osama personally directed me to where he thought the most effective punishment would be wielded. By the time my arm was so tired I thought it would fall off both men were losing so much blood I thought they would surely die.

"Prince Mehmet, your slave has performed admirably. The question left is your use of the whips the same as what we have seen."

"Prince Osama, I humbly admit that my slave is more accurate with the bull whip than I am. We could not be told apart with the flog or the cane. If a member of the board would like to strip and submit to my slave you can determine if there is any difference in our use of the quirt."

"Or we could have you use the quirt on him to judge your proficiency."

"We wouldn't want him to appear in Saudi Arabia recovering from that. You will have to accept that he learned from me, so he will have learned my good and bad habits."

"Prince Mehmet, have you concluded the business that has held you back from traveling? We have moved up your departure to tomorrow."

"We will be at the airport whenever you say. Will we finish the debriefing this afternoon or evening?"

Finally, I was going to do something other than train to be a proper 'white boy slave'. As we headed to the two Hummers I looked back, Monsieur and the guard had been left to hang in the sun, deserted by everyone other than one guard with a machine gun. Mehmet preferred to have slaves punished for a week, so they would hang there that night and be caged the next day.

I didn't know enough about Mehmet's business to be sure who would take over the training camps while he was gone, I only knew it would not be his father. Most of the remaining slaves were due to be sold, there were only two that were being held back for specific training that Mehmet had told me would bring him extravagant amounts of money. One was Jones, he hadn't given a hint at any special training but his escort services seemed to be part of the whole.

"Slave, you did well today. I was surprised at your viciousness at going after Monsieur's cock, the Agency was also pleased with that as they worried you were too passive to fulfill all your purposes. You may have made him the perfect harem eunuch. I left instructions with the doctors not to attempt saving his ability to perform. They will try to limit infections but that is the limit of what they will do for his cock. Their punishments tomorrow will be very basic, the slaves will all be permitted ten swats of a standard American fraternity paddle, if any of them go for his cock I doubt the doctors will be able to save them.

"I know he never touched you. My brother did say that he wanted to, but there was never that opportunity, so why did you hate him so much?"

It wasn't easy to tell the man that had been so good to me in so many ways since I had been enslaved that I hated being a slave and Monsieur was the emblem of all that slavery meant. He might be a slave himself but he was an enforcer, a slave that held himself above the others and punished the formerly free for his master. Destroying the cock that he thought gave him precedence over all other slaves was the least I could do for Jamaal and any others that he had damaged.

"Master, do you have any training in Tai Kwan Do?"

"I have some, but I am not on your level. Why do you ask? Are you going to turn on me, too?"

"No, Master, before my butt muscles were slightly damaged the Martial Arts instructor at Camp (50) was going to ask if you would consent to me being trained for the Olympics once again. I was afraid if you had no training at all that I should not be allowed to practice anymore as that would severely differentiate us."

"You are welcome to continue training. That I train is in the bio that most countries have on me. The Agency will provide you with the best trainers in the world when we return to Kuwait. It was one of the concerns I had before purchasing you, would the world remember you standing on the Olympic platform?

"Kuwait has never entered a person in that competition. What seems more important to you though is that the matter of slaves being entered as competitors from their new country rather than the one of their birth has not been resolved. American diplomats are fighting hard to keep their boys from competing for anyone else."

"Would that stop you from having me compete? It would be hard to keep it from becoming known that I am your doppelganger. Would I have to compete under your name?"

"Could you do that?"

"I might. The idea of competing is why I would be doing it. The Tai Kwan Do medalists are forgotten ten minutes after the awards ceremonies. It would give you some credence if you were needed to go to the Far East that your country does not give you.

"If you wish that, I will. It would be such a small gift in return for all he had given me, including self-confidence I had never had.

"I will add a room appropriate for the training at the palace, we can't have you seen training while I am out about doing business." It was the most he had smiled for the entire day, I was glad to make my Master happy. Now if he could only fuck me until he was fully satisfied once more.

Kuwaiti Princes on business did not travel with much of an entourage. We each had four men with us, although they were there for completely different purposes. I had my physical therapist, a housekeeper (spy for the agency on me) and an enforcer to be certain that I did not escape from slavery.

The Agency had rented an entire floor of the hotel that Mehmet said was the best in Riyadh. I was sure they had done their usual job of hiding monitors in all the rooms except the bathrooms, Mehmet said that that they felt that was "dirty". It would have been okay with me to meet him in any of the gold plated bathrooms but finding the way to be in the same suite at the same time and being out of sight of the housekeeper was impossible, the housekeeper and his valet acting as bodyguards. We were still able to sleep together and have sex once a night for the first few days, the only time I was used like a slave was in the morning when I was his urinal. The doctor that was to change the dressing on our toes gave Mehmet the okay to fuck me as much as he wanted but not to abuse my asshole with dildos or butt plugs for the next couple weeks and then he was given whatever permission the doctor could give to a man owning a slave. He had said that he was following the doctor's advice because he had too much invested in me to risk permanent damage.

It seemed to me that he was avoiding the simple fact that he wanted me whole for his own purposes. I knew he felt more about me than a master was supposed to feel towards a slave and was struggling with that.

I had been secluded in the hotel room until the doctor gave the go ahead on my ass being fully functional and ready to resume being fucked regularly. Twice immediately after the doctor left and before dinner my Master filled my ass with his cum promising more that night after he returned from a recognizance mission, my mood improved as my body had. So far as he had plotted out the city every thing was as the Agency had promised except that the building where he was required to go to search the Royal Prince's office had twice as many guards surrounding it and snipers on all four corners facing it. He left the hotel through an area that had been found to be without Saudi surveillance, so I was free to enter the lobby and restaurant.

The physical therapist joined me for dinner. The enforcer sat in the hotel lobby where he was able to keep his eyes on me and on the front door. That was the first time I had been fitted for a device that would allow the enforcer to talk directly into my ear. He had promised not to speak during dinner unless there became a need. The most pressing of needs being the entrance of the Royal Prince unexpectedly.

Since we had left the plane to travel to the hotel I was free for the first time to call the Physical Therapist anything other than sir. At dinner Momo and I chatted about inconsequential matters, it would not have been good for anyone to hear us talking about why I was there. We did drop a few hints that I had found the Royal Prince intriguing the few times (within the hearing of waiters and a manager) I had been in the same room with him. Saudi Arabia still had homosexuality outlawed except between owners and their slaves. The Royal family was never known to obey the laws of the country and would never be publicly embarrassed by the press (on threat of public execution) speaking of a member being gay or having romps with foreigners in their hotel rooms.

The Royal chambers were to be kept sacrosanct so our plan had been made to assume the Prince would take me from the restaurant to my own rooms or a house we did not know about. That was one advantage the Agency had provided us. One set of rooms was much nicer than the others and set up by the Agency to appear as if they were occupied by Prince Mehmet, with only the slightest hint that there might be sex available. One being a photo shopped photo of Mehmet and Ahmed apparently wrestling in only the smallest covering possible; the brother's crack was just visible as was the full swelling of Mehmet's cock pushing the small suit away from his body showing a few inches of solid shaft and the lack of any pubic hair.

Each time I had seen the photo I had sprung an immediate erection, there was no denying the homoerotic appeal. If the Prince was into being fucked the way the rumors suggested he would be easy to control after seeing that photo. I did intend to control him, I had been supplied with a cane and a quirt. If he needed more convincing than those two whips would provide, he would need to have his own equipment sent to the hotel.

"Well, it seems we are to have an unexpected diner this evening. We should finish up, if this was to happen, I was to pass the Prince on my departure from the restaurant. We won't talk unless he forces the issue, which will be unlikely depending on his dining partners." I was wearing an extremely light dishdasha which had been fitted with a lining to cover my pubic area entering the restaurant. Unless I was going to be face to face with the Royal Prince I was to remain covered, if I was going to be within his sight I was expected to remove the cloth and give him a glance at what was available preferable hard if possible. Showing off that way was not a problem since the amount of nudity that I had been forced to endure in front of and among others for my Master.

Our waiter was being slow to conclude our visit, the enforcer told me that the Prince was on the steps leading into the restaurant, there was nothing left for me to do but to cause a scene. "You vacant minded, child of a syphilitic goat and a feces eating whore, move your maggot ridden corpse faster than a constipated camel carrying a thousand American tourists." I didn't know if that was a good curse or if I was blowing the whole operation because of some dimwitted waiter that was unable to cross the dining room without bumping into another guest and spilling his tray of beverages.

"Prince Mehmet, our similarity was working, allow me to take the bill and have the son of a goat dismissed and flogged." The Royal Prince was standing within arms reach as I turned, allowing my cock to force the nearly transparent cloth to sway in front of him. I had been expecting him to be looking higher. Catching where his eyes were frozen, I thanked him and turned to the steps so all he could see was the curve of my butt tightening against the cloth as my cock lengthened in front of me.

"That was quite a performance."

"My job was to be sure he got a glimpse of my cock and if that didn't do the job to be sure he saw my ass.

"Do you think he was attracted?'

"Oh yes, The Royal Prince was half hard by the time you turned away and then his erection was quite noticeable to everyone in the restaurant. If he hadn't been with an uncle I think he would have tried to follow you through the lobby."

"Would you say his erection is as large as the rumors have made him out to be? "

"I not a good judge of that but I wouldn't say he was more than a foot long unless he keeps growing. Are you ready for that?"

"I think so. I am not sure I'm ready if he does want whipped. How do I determine what is acceptable and what is over the line? I know you are supposed to determine the man's range before you start but that seems beyond me." I was really worried about that, the night I was meant to take him to bed for the first time I needed to be sure he was occupied for at least three hours so my Master could do a preliminary search. I also needed to be good enough that the Royal Prince would want to have a repeat performance should my Master not find what he was looking for the first time. I guess it was stage fright, not knowing whether I was to play the role of the wicked uncle or the cuddly nephew..

"Ali, I hear you had a chance encounter with the Royal Prince." Mehmet was in my suite eating from a fast food joint he found that he thought was the epitome of Americana. The smell of old grease was revolting.

"Yes, Master. I did as I was supposed to do. I had the cloth out of the dishdasha, I was not fully hard but almost. My cock pushed the cloth so that it was tight on my butt as I walked away. Momo says that the man was not able to pull his eyes away until another group entered the restaurant."

"What did you think of him. I heard you had a few words."

"He was a little smaller than I expected. He was very nice looking and well spoken. I wasn't aware that he owns this hotel but that worked well as he took our tab."

"Did you get a look at his cock?"

"No, Momo did though and thought it might be a foot long. If he is a bottom like you think I am afraid that he will not be able to open his mouth wide enough to take what I will force in him while using the quirt."

"You sound like you are looking forward to this." My Master was grinning at me.

"Master, what I'm looking forward to is you fulfilling your promise of three hours ago." It was true, it had been the first day in a week that I had been fucked more than once and I still wanted more as long as it was my Master.

I always tighten back up after a half hour so with three hours to recover I was like my Master enjoyed saying 'a reborn virgin'. It had been some time since he had licked my ass for more than a second, that night he held me down to the mattress and worked his tongue in and out of my asshole for at least 30 minutes. I was begging for him to fuck me. I had already lost one load of cum but his tongue had kept my cock hard. Why hadn't it been America buying slaves so that I could command him to be there everyday and night? Oh well, every slave has his own fantasy.

Having his tongue reaching up into my asshole had loosened me some but he had to force his cock head into me. I knew what Jamaal and Ahmed felt when I fucked them, a plump head on a slightly thinner shaft big enough around to fill my inside from wall to wall. That big head pushing the second sphincter open was always enough to make my entire interior to quake and quiver until I was nearly inert except for the muscles squeezing my Master tight, that never quit.

"Slave you did well, tonight. Back up onto your knees." He pulled me back as I rose from my belly. "Keep your head on the mattress."

I had learned to like if not love drinking his piss but this was only the second time that he had used my ass that way. The first time I had made a mess, but it had been in the grass so he laughed and told me that I would need to learn. He stayed on his knees with his entire cock still inside. I could feel how far he was in me and reveled in that feeling the brief thought that I would always be like this made me smile.

"Slave, I have held this as a treat for you. I could have fed you this piss but I wanted you to remember it as a treat for a special effort on your part." While he was speaking to me I felt the first of the urine enter me as warm and filling as my Master himself. He is right, any of his fluids are a treat that I remember.

"When I heard from your enforcer how well you had done. 'Child of a syphilitic goat and feces eating whore' where have you ever heard that curse?" Although he was pissing a torrent into my ass he was chuckling about the curse. He had also started to rub my stomach making room for the piss to flow higher into my intestines but not swelling my belly.

"Master, I had to make it up on the moment, I have never learned any of the more popular curse used in Saudi Arabia, a language teacher having said that inventiveness is highly prized in cursing."

"He was right. In this country a curse like what you spouted at that poor waiter will be repeated dozens if not hundreds of times by tomorrow evening; I had already heard it being repeated to the valet. If the Prince liked it well enough it may even become a standard way to call out waiters. Instead of being their saint you will be remembered as the demon of the class." I hoped that wasn't true but didn't think much about it as my Master had once more started to fuck me. I wondered if he was actually fucking his cock into his own piss it didn't take long for me to learn that he was and was loving it.

Next: Chapter 16


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