FULFILLING THE FANTASY XVI
By Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)
Bonthe, the port city in Sierra Leone the Fantasia anchored some distance off-shore (due to silting up of its once deep harbor), required tendering into the dilapidated area once making up the docks. Like the rest of the country, the place had fallen into rack and ruin following the disastrous civil war and little rebuilding was evident so far. Of course, it was the civil war that made the slave markets here full to overflowing with a vast variety of goods of every age, gender, and physique imaginable - all at clearance prices.
Although Mark and John both had bought more than enough slaves already to ensure unbelievable personal fortunes once they got home, they couldn't resist looking over what was available in this war-torn country on the West Coast of Africa. The Fantasia's cargo hold still had room for a few more holdings, and the prices were rumored to be unbelievably low, so desperate the economy for foreign currency at this point.
The port lecturer had certainly warned the Fantasia's guests to be extraordinarily cautious in purchasing anything in Sierra Leone.
First, most dealers made no guarantees whatsoever in that they usually had no idea where their stock was coming from. Most stock was simply bought from warlords and generals and most were captives of war somewhere along the line. Other stock were orphans swept up off the streets periodically by the government and then sold off to dealers at auction or prison or mental hospital inmates which the government no longer wanted to feed. Bred stock, where blood lines could be traced and slave training had begun at birth, weren't available in Sierra Leone. The country was too war-torn to make such long term investment schemes viable. The end result was a bunch of rabble, prisoners-of-war, and defeated mercenaries almost totally unsorted, uncategorized, and certainly untrained to their slavery.
Second, diseased stock was a distinct possibility. Antibiotic resistant tuberculosis was pandemic in the population, AIDS was evident in 40% of the population, HIV-Positive status was detectable in about 70% of the population, and 15% had acute syphilis. On top of that, chorea, malaria, and meningitis plagued many in the population, especially the young where symptoms were often right beneath the surface, often temporarily dormant in the bodies of slaves they would be looking at. Almost all slaves in Sierra Leone had impacted worms and intestinal parasites of one type or another, picking them up in the horrifically filthy slave pens in which they were kept. Since most of these conditions were highly contagious, the Fantasia was forced to impose certain restrictions on Sierra Leone purchases: all slaves purchased could not be loaded into the cargo hold until passing a medical examination (at the purchasers expense) conducted by the ship's veterinarian and getting a clean bill of health before boarding. A series of tents would be set up on the dock for this purpose and the health inspection fee, including numerous blood tests, would be at least $100 per slave examined. Those not passing the inspection would not be boarded and the purchaser was responsible for either returning them to the dealer (who most likely would not take them back) or disposing of them with several other options in an attempt to minimize their loss: (1) selling them to a pet food processor conveniently located near the slave dealer's stations where the slave's body would be "sterilized" and then ground up for animal food; (2) selling them to a multinational pharmaceutical company for drug experimentation whose purchasing agent was flying in for the day; (3) selling them to a company specializing in the production of extreme S&M shows featuring real-life "snuff" scenes; or (4) selling them to a local "waste management" officer who would simply kill them at the edge of the town dump where jackals and vultures did their job in disposing of the body in short order. Therefore, a slave not passing the medical exam would cost them the $100 examination fee as well as a possible additional fee for waste disposal. Local purchases should take these factors into account before any deal was finalized.
Third, purchasers should be aware of the problems totally untrained stock could present over the long haul, no matter how cheap to purchase initially. Acclimation to permanent slave status might take months, no matter how much you starved and beat the newly purchased stock. Even the most severe punishments for non-compliant behavior had their limitations and the human body, no matter how strong at the time of purchase, could only tolerate so much pain and suffering. Severe food, water, and sleep deprivation were effective - yes - but in prolonged use had the risk of damaging the very goods you bought. Sex deprivation increased drive and frustration, but sometimes drove slaves berserk in the process, especially if slaves were kept constantly stimulated without any means of relief. Castration of male slaves made them more easily controllable, but greatly reduced their value in that they could no longer be used for breeding a profitable new batch of ready-made slaves. All in all, purchasers of 'new' slaves should count on a good six months of training time before the purchase would be fully productive, totally compliant without supervision, and completely adjusted to this new status in life. Resale prices of 'new' slaves reflected all of these considerations.
The lecturer concluded that unless the stock was extremely low priced, exceptionally handsome or skilled, and appeared to be in the best of health with a suburb physique, it would probably be wise to pass them by. If you did buy any stock here in Sierra Leone, pay no more than you can afford to lose if the slave doesn't pass the physical and must be disposed of, is not worth the cost of the medical examination, and realizing the slave will probably not be productive as a full slave for at least six months. In addition, IF the slave does pass the physical, there will be additional charges for de-worming them in quarantine conditions, circumcising them (practically all male slaves being sold were uncircumcised here), castrating those males excessively aggressive or unruly, and fitting them with appropriate control devices (such as nose rings, tit rings, genital bands, and even genital piercing) - all of which would greatly enhance the intense training these purchases would need to make decent slaves out of them, but all of which would add to the costs.
"Unless you think you can sell a slave for at least 10 to 15 thousand once he is fully trained and totally compliant, and assuming you pay no more than $500 for them to start with, you probably aren't going to make much money on a Sierra Leone purchase. The risks are just too great."
"Not too encouraging," John sighed as the lecture ended. "I've sort of lost my enthusiasm for purchasing much here."
"You and me both," Mark replied. "But we don't have much else to do. I'll take a look anyway - besides, I've never been to Sierra Leone and probably will never be back. I'd like to at least see what the major port city looks like and just how filthy those slave pens really are."
The major slave markets were just a few blocks from what had once been a prosperous dock area and was an easy walk from the tender boats bringing them from the Fantasia. No directional markers were needed once they landed - the stench of thousands of slaves cramped into tiny holding pens, mixed with the screams and groans of recalcitrant slaves being severely disciplined and the moans and sighs of slaves having every part of their naked bodies being brusquely examined , certainly marked the area set aside for the selling of human bodies on a wholesale scale.
The market was a make-shift affair set up sensibly but crudely. Naked slaves were crammed into holding pens behind each dealer's stand. Up front, on display, were a variety of the best each dealer had to offer - each body rigidly chained to a "display" post in a fashion to best display his or her bodily attributes. Dealers and handlers were easily identifiable - they were the only ones with clothes on and most carried a bull whip in one hand and a truncheon in the other. The truncheon was not only employed frequently for immediate corrective discipline (without marking the body permanently) but was also employed to point out and emphasize the slave's bodily attributes (such as lifting their balls and penises up for a potential customer's inspection) without having to actually touch the slave. Slaves proving uncooperative in advocating their own sale found the bull whip across their back in short order - an event which produced a lot of blood on the slave's back and rump and the numerous crawling flies that always swarmed around such rich offerings.
John and Mark walked slowly through the entire market acclimating to the horrible stench of the place and adjusting to the screams of agony and anguish that penetrated the air with each new crack of the whip or the slash of yet another truncheon on bare flesh. There were no facilities for the slaves to meet their elimination needs. Therefore, they were forced to defecate in place and just urinated standing up. Shit was all over their backsides and legs, and most walked around in a pool of human waste, shit oozing up between their toes as they shuffled through the pens. Those on display usually had a pile of their own shit at their feet or running down their legs - no one thought it necessary to unchain a slave so he or she could keep themselves clean. Most of the slaves looked desperately hungry, wild with fear, yet despairingly passive as their bodies were probed, stroked, poked, and prodded into meeting any one of a hundred of prospective buyers' demands. Female slaves' nipples were raw and swollen from the constant squeezing they endured; male slaves' pricks were chafed and dripping from being stroked into constant erection. Vaginas and assholes were explored along with teeth, head hair, ears, men's tits and balls, and females' clitorises and breasts. Flies, maggots, lice, and worms were everywhere, often crawling over the slave's bodies who were unable to swat them away due to having their hands invariably shackled behind their backs or fastened to their heavy collars and their feet closely hobbled.
Central to the whole operation was a huge "transfer" pen located at the back of the city's slave pens. When John and Mark asked what this pen was for, it was explained by a bystander that here was where slaves who had died while in the dealer's pens were unceremoniously dumped, their bodies now covered with flies. The bystander went on to expalin that they were joined by slaves too weak and sickly to stand for purchasers' inspections any more, slaves unsalable due to visible marks of disease, and those too old and worn out to be worth feeding anymore. Those not dead wailed in anguish, he explained, with what little strength they had left or simply stared into space blankly, knowing they were headed toward the city's 'processor" next - a municipal service (one of the last still operating) which took this human flotsam and ground it up into fertilizer or, more likely, into dyhydrated slave feed after being boiled to kill the diseases racking their bodies so the disease wouldn't be transferred to those eating the dry slave chow. For those still living, they were not killed prior to being fed to the boilers - it had been discovered they tasted better if they were processed while still alive at the beginning of the process.
John asked, "Do the slaves still alive in this pen know their fate?"
"Of course," the bystander answered casually. "All slavesin Sierra Leone know every detail of this grisly operation from the time they had been enslaved. It's why slaves will do most anything to get themselves sold when given a chance. Keeps a slave motivated and interested in the sales process if nothing else," he smiled.
John and Mark reflected on the bystander's comments. It was no wonder those alive in the pen were stultified with despair, screaming with their last ounce of energy as they contemplated being boiled alive imminently.
"One thing is for sure," John commented, obviously realizing as a dealer such conditions often accompanied any slave system if culls were to be effectively weeded out prior to marketing. "These slaves would have to have the best immune systems in the world or they wouldn't be alive under these conditions. See anything interesting?"
"Not yet," Mark responded. "I wonder if all this stinking meat is as cheap as we've heard? John, I don't think I can take the stench much longer without getting sick and puking all over myself. I think I'll head back to the ship. You'll shop around without me tagging along, won't you, John?"
John was about to answer he was ready to return to the ship himself when both he and Mark stopped dead in their tracks.
"God Almighty!" both exclaimed in unison.
Chained to a display post about 30 feet in front of them, stood the most magnificent display of raw male sexuality either of them had ever seen. The body being exhibited stood about 6'4" tall, was a mass of beautifully sculptured muscle from his neck to his feet, had skin as smooth and even as creamed cocoa, a face that featured large bright green eyes, thick long black lashes, high cheekbones, and a strong jaw line highlighted by a straight Grecian nose and thin lips shaped into a singular look of total acceptance of his absolute sensuality without a hint of arrogance. Below his thick, muscular neck, his physique was perfection. Pecs puffy but not obscene; tits begging to be kneaded; a waist so narrow it was wasp-like; abdominal muscles that looked like bricks laid in a neat row. Below his waist, his thighs were like artistically shaped tree trunks; his calves rounded and full; his feet Grecian in their elegance. His butt was well rounded, set high, but totally muscular. Between his legs resided the epitome of his maleness: large round pendulous balls dangling well between his legs like a bull; a huge uncircumcised penis whose thickness and length, as well as its smooth tubular shape, looked like a fire hose. His shaft hung as low as his balls, snaking down his leg almost to his knees. The entire body was practically hairless with only a few wisps of hair around the balls and above the prick.
"How long is that monster?" John exclaimed. "My God. It's the biggest thing I've ever seen on a human and he's not even hard."
"Those balls are big enough to be on a bull," Mark added. "If he wasn't so incredibly pretty, I'd swear he wasn't human."
The dealer wasn't so awestruck, however.
"You want to see the slave aroused?" the grungy looking dealer asked as he reached for the slave's prick and began stroking. The slave whose equipment was being roughly massaged only moaned softly and briefly glanced at the two prospective purchasers. Within a minute, the massive prick had grown three inches more in circumference and was four inches longer as it swiftly filled out to a full erection. "Fourteen inches when he's got it all the way up the last time I measured the bastard. And six inches around him as I guess you figured out since I can't get my hand all the way around it when it's fully erect like this. Quite a piece of equipment, rarely seen even in pure Mandingos like this one. Relatively rare here in Sierra Leone. Captured somewhere up around the Burkina Faso border probably - that's where you start to run into Mandingos. Mandingos are usually the big slave owners - you don't often see them for sale as slaves themselves like this boy here. But for those Mandingos that do end up as slaves for one reason or another, typically they make damn fine slaves once they are broken to the reality - they end up loyal to their masters, smart, and easy to manage. But, no matter what, you can never take their pride in being a Mandingo out of them. They are always proud of their bodies, whether master or slave, and, as you can appreciate yourself, they've got a reason for that pride. Some body on this boy, don't you agree?"
"Yes," both Mark and John said simultaneously.
"Do you guarantee him to be disease free and fully healthy?" John asked, mindful of the medical inspection required of every purchase he might make here.
"Take him to any doctor you want and if he doesn't pass their muster, bring him back and I'll return every penny you paid for the slave," the dealer answered confidently.
"How much?" Mark asked, catching himself before reaching forward and hefting the slave's huge balls, his normal procedure in examining a prospective purchase. Instead, not wanting to touch anything in this diseased place, he simply pointed to the slave's equipment as he caught John's attention.
"Can you imagine him with his prick properly trimmed, his balls banded with a real thick clinch to pull them up from between his legs and propping that huge prick out so it was constant display, some big rings through those big, meaty tits, and that thick neck surrounded with a tall, heavy slave collar with leash rings?" John asked breathlessly, obviously envisioning the slave fitted out this way already.
"This slave might also look good with a ring through the head of his prick for leashing and to prevent him jerking off whenever he wanted. And a ring through those quivering nostrils might be a nice touch! A nose ring is always good when training a free-born like this." Mark added, feeling himself rapidly getting hard just looking at the slave.
"$1000 U.S. dollars," the dealer interjected, "guaranteed free of disease." He quickly looked both men directly in the eye to see if they were offended by such a high price for a slave. He continued stroking the slave to make sure the huge erection remained on full display.
John saw a worm crawling up the leg of the slave being examined. Looking down, he saw where it was coming from. The slave was forced to stand in a pile of his own shit and he was obviously infested with worms despite his look of glowing health.
"Jesus, Mark." John said disgustedly. This whole place is disgusting. What in God's name are two grown men, both rich enough to never have to work another day in our lives, doing in a pigsty like this watching intestinal worms clawing up the legs of a slave out of his own fresh shit? Lord Almighty, we should be enjoying our suite on the ship having a nice cold cocktail with a nice totally clean sweet-smelling slave boy sucking us off, not standing here in a pile of shit watching worms crawl over some slave meat. We must be nuts!"
"Or addicted to slave meat," Mark said, "especially meat like this. But you're right, John. We must be nuts! It's not like we don't have any good looking slave meat available to us any time we want."
Turning to the dealer, he shot back "$400 for the slave and you're lucky to get anything for him, choked with worms as he is. And only if he passes the medical examination my own doctor will run on him at the tent down on the dock."
"$500 and the Mandingo boy is yours," the dealer countered.
"$500 it is IF the slave proves to be healthy over and above the disgusting worms eating him up," Mark replied. "I won't touch the slave until my doctor has looked him over and declared him disease-free. Take him down to the white tent set up on the dock and turn the slave over to the doctors there. If they give their approval, I will pay you the $500 in U.S. currency. If they reject the slave, you are responsible for taking him back to your filthy pens or disposing of him to one of several disposal agents outside the white tent who may be willing to give you $50 or so for his diseased body, whichever you prefer.
The dealer promptly placed a rope noose around the slave's neck, tightened it until the slave choked for lack of air, and then unchained the slave from his display post, keeping his hands shackled behind his back and his feet hobbled. With the rope noose serving as a leash in one hand, his other hand grabbed a short whip resembling a riding crop. With a vicious slash of the whip across the slave's back, the Mandingo howled in pain and moved swiftly in the direction he was pulled by his leash.
John and Mark swiftly left the stinking market and took an alternate route to the medical tent, not wishing to following the shit-covered slave and his crawling worms they were interested in purchasing.
"Who's actually buying him if he checks out OK?" John asked. "You or me?"
"I am at $500 plus the $100 medical fee. Once cleansed of all his disgusting worms and once he takes to all the exact training he's going to have, he'll be worth at least one million back in the U.S. Wouldn't you pay that to have him as a willing bed buck?" Mark laughed.
"Well, yes, but not if I could have bought him originally for $500," John said, rather hurt.
"Oh, John, I was just teasing. We'll buy him jointly if he passes the exam. $250 each including the doctor's fees and each of us will own 50% of him. You want the top or bottom half?" Mark laughed uproariously. "Seriously, eventually, with a lot of training and conditioning, he'll bring at least $1 million at your dealership to a buyer who wants the best for his bed. Let's see - say it takes $150 to fit him out with some bodily control devices; another $500 in special training costs on the ship; $350 to get a good circumcision on him along with his tit and genital piercing, and another $900 cost in special diet to get him dewormed and back in top shape with a special diet, that's $600 + 150 + 500 +350 + 900. That $2500 total investment selling for 1 million. That's a profit of $999,997,250 split two ways or, let's see, $499,998, 625 each pure profit. Not bad for an hour's trip to the worst smelling hell hole I've ever seen!"
"I can see why no one ever cheats you, Mark," John laughed. "You're so quick with figures you should be the slave dealer, not me."
"With me, slaves are just an interesting hobby," Mark laughed, "not a livelihood like it is for you, my good friend."
"More like an obsession if you ask me," John countered.
"Whatever," Mark laughed. "Speaking of obsessions, while our 'investment' is being trained, there's no reason we shouldn't enjoy his body occasionally, is there?"
"No reason I can think of," John doubled up with laughter. "In fact, it might speed up the training considerably."
The Mandingo slave was handed over to the white-coated rubber gloved medical team who had their own slaves administered three thorough enemas and then hose him down - all with high powered hoses so they didn't have to touch him. They then scrubbed him thoroughly top to bottom with a harsh antiseptic detergent before turning him over to the medics who X-rayed his lungs for pneumonia, tuberculosis, or other lung diseases, drew blood to test for syphilis, HIV and/or AIDS, malnourishment, other bacterial or viral diseases, X-rayed his stomach and intestines to study the worm infestation, and took samples of every body fluid, including saliva, tears, and sperm. The slave was physically examined as well, testing for muscular or neural abnormalities, skin diseases, sexual arousal, vision, hearing, responsiveness, eye-hand coordination, and other tests of neural functioning. Since all the testing equipment was portable from the ship's infirmary, results could be quickly obtained. The slave tested negative for tuberculosis, HIV and AIDS, all other lung, neural, and intestinal diseases, and was found to have no abnormal bacterial or viral conditions. He functioned well above average in all neural, sexual, muscular, visual and hearing tests. The only thing they could find wrong with the slave's health was a mild case of vitamin deficiency due to poor diet (which could be easily treated) and impaction with both stomach and intestinal worms (a condition which could be rectified with a five-day severe but highly effective chemical dosing procedure.) He could easily be circumcised or even castrated with no foreseeable complications and genital, ear, or tit piercings would present no problems if antibiotic dressing were employed. If we chose to purchase the slave, he would have to be quarantined in the ship's special isolation facility for the five-days of his worm treatment so his condition would not spread to any existing stock. But any piercings, body trimmings or alterations could be done in that period so the healing could start immediately, along with vitamin therapy to overcome recent malnourishment problems. The deworming procedure would be hard on the slave, they warned, in that a variety of very powerful poisons were administered in both forced feedings and forced enemas. He could be expected to loose almost 20 pounds in the process due to severe dyhydration and inability to process food during the five days of deworming treatment and the slave would probably be convinced he was being poisoned to death during the treatment process. But once freed of the worm infestation, he would quickly regain his weight and be forever grateful to any new master that took the time and trouble to bring him back from an almost certain death if left back in the dealer's pens untreated..
We immediately paid the slimy dealer his $500 who went happily on his way, and wrote the following with a grease pencil on the freshly washed slave's back: "Clean circumcision, genital piercing with 3" chrome ring through head below slit; both tits pierced with 3"chrome ring; neck collared with 4" tall chrome collar welded shut and fitted just loose enough to breath without difficulty with leash rings on all four sides of collar; genitals banded with 3" thick band that insures balls do not hang but instead serve to push shaft out and forward for maximum protrusiveness - genitals should be fitted tight to body and thrust forward so balls are not between legs and do not swing. Wrists and ankles fitted with bands welded shut. Right ear pierced with ownership tag listing owners name, address, and reward notice. Slave branded with ownership mark (on file) on right pectoral and left butt." We then signed our names on the slave's hide so the handlers would know who the owners were and who should be billed for all of these services. All of these instructions covered the slave's back, his frontside, as well as his butt as he was led off to a special small slave tender to be transported immediately, along with two other slaves that had been purchased following their medical clearance, to the Fantasia's hold where the first of the administered poisons would quickly cause unbelievably painful cramping, indicating the pesky parasites in the magnificent slave's body were already beginning to struggle in their death throes.
Two other slaves, tentatively 'purchased' by other passengers aboard the Fantasia, were being examined as the Mandingo slave was shuttled to the nearest transport, his hide covered in instructions. Unfortunately, they were quickly found to be suffering from AIDS and would not be allowed on board the Fantasia. Both passengers sold their rejected slaves to a nearby processor: one was sold to a firm who would ship him to Switzerland where a drug company they represented would harvest his corneas (not affected by the disease) and then would shoot him, now totally blind, full of untested vaccines and study his reactions, often very harsh and painful, until he eventually died of their experimentation, long before the disease itself overtook him. The other slave, more advanced with the disease, was simply chocked to death by a gigantic slave kept around by the firm for that very purpose and then his limp body was thrown into a container containing slaves' bodies destined for the giant grinders at the local fertilizer plant.
This one purchase in Sierra Leone was enough for both John and Mark who had no desire to visit any more slave markets here. But they did want to see a little bit of the country itself.
They joined a small group of other passengers for a bus tour of the nation's capitol, several miles from the port city. The bus was old and unairconditioned but clean enough and the local guide spoke English well enough to be understood. Everywhere along the route into the capitol city, the passengers could see the results of the civil war - most buildings were damaged and unrepaired, many of the natives suffered loss of legs, hands, and arms, roads were bombed out requiring constant detouring, and electrical lines were lying on the ground, obviously not in use for some time. Other than small food shops, most stores were boarded up and closed. About the only thing for sale was gasoline in quart jars, ricks of wood for cooking, and chained slaves in the thousands - everything from infants to aging adults were offered for little more than the price of a candy bar back in the U.S. Most slaves were thin and haggard from lack of food, all were naked which only emphasized their malnutrition and the many whip scars on their bodies, and practically none of them, save a few of the late teenagers and young adults, had any appeal whatsoever. There seemed to be more slaves than non-slaves - at least what could be seen out of the bus windows. Of course, all work was done by slaves since they were so plentiful, so it wasn't surprising that's about all you saw out on the streets. Once in the city itself, the buildings were unanimously in disrepair along with the streets, the sewers were obviously not working any longer judging from the stench, and the carcasses of slaves and other animals, beaten or starved to death, were simply left where they dropped until the vultures picked their bones clean as their flesh putrefied. The guide tried to make the most of it, pointing out the many exotic birds indigenous to Sierra Leone, the many tropical flowers profuse everywhere, and the life of leisure possible for the few wealthy still left due to the easy availability of slaves to do all of the work at the lowest costs imaginable. But even he was distressed by the constant stench of rotting bodies, the sight of screaming slaves, most of them native Sierra Leoneans being beat to death as the last ounce of strength was extracted from their worn bodies before being abandoned to the vultures, and the lack of any infrastructure left. After seeing the dilapidated capital, the shelled presidential palace, and now roofless 'cultural centre' and the remnants of a few museums, the guide headed the bus back to the port city with a plea for a job in the U.S. By the time we got back to the tender to take us to the Fantasia, not one tour member tipped him, insulted by his tiresome pleas for a job and his obvious lack of any talent, even as a tour guide. One guest went to far as to bluntly tell him he couldn't make it in the U.S. as a slave, let along a person for hire. Everyone in the group agreed with that assessment.
The tender delivered us back to the cool airconditioning and a welcoming drink aboard the Fantasia, an entirely different world than the realities of Sierra Leone. Even the single new purchase in the Fantasia's hold being dewormed, branded, pierced, collared, banded, circumcised, knowing full well he was now entering a life where he would be likely be little more than a mere sex toy for his new owners - his body purchased to be fucked regularly, expected to suck his new masters off with enthusiasm, and have his beautiful body played with constantly to amuse his new owners - even with his magnificent body mutilated, branded, pierced, and banded to suit the whim of his new young masters, the Mandingo slave still gave thanks to all the gods his people worshiped. He was grateful he was no longer in the slave pens of Sierra Leona, being consumed with the putrid worms, pawed over constantly by every stinking passerby, whipped and abused constantly by the slimy dealer selling him. The gods favored him with good fortune - he had been purchased by two young foreigners who lived on this beautiful ship and would make sure he lived and would prosper. He suspected he was purchased to be resold in some foreign land and most likely he would be resold, like he had just been sold, for the pleasure his body could bring his owners, whoever they might be. But what a small price to pay for getting out of those stinking slave pens where he knew he was dying. His new owners were his saviors and he would view them that way forever. Being a slave to them was a small price to pay for his life. To leave Sierra Leone under ANY circumstances was better than staying there.
Tony, the Italian steward slave assigned to their suite, was waiting for his two masters the minute they returned with a cold drink in his hand and his naked body aroused and waiting to please them anyway they wanted.
Both men were ready for a little action after seeing all that naked slave flesh all day. Mark wanted to be sucked; John wanted to fuck. Both could be accommodated at the same time. Within two minutes, the handsome steward was on his hands and wide-spread knees and had both his holes stuffed full and listened to his users moaning in their contentment with his services. He smiled to himself - once again, he felt needed and secure. No need to worry about potential competition from the new Sierra Leone purchase they had been excitedly talking about when they first entered the room - he'd worry about that later!
TO BE CONTINUED
Comments welcomed. Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)