Little Big Man

LITTLE BIG MAN – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: HEADING SOUTH

Previously: Alex, feeling guilt over Utah's castration, opens up to Matti about having accidentally killed his twin brother Adam and covering it up afterwards. Afterwards, they are sunbathing with a group of friends when they notice land in the distance and Matti tells them that, based on the position of the sun, this can't be Europe and must be somewhere in Africa. Soon thereafter, the boys are confined to their corridor and are unable to see outside as the ship pulls into port.

Latronius, the `maroon' who has designs on Alex, visits again and forces Alex to shower with him, during which he makes Alex manipulate him close to climax and to briefly take his cock into his mouth. Alex does not find this experience as distasteful as he would have thought, which troubles him. It troubles him even more when Matti makes a move on him the next morning; he firmly tells Matti that he is not gay and thinks of him only as a friend, even after Matti reminds him that a few days ago they had kissed. Matti tells Alex that he is in love with him; Alex remains confused but tells Matti he doesn't want to be romantically involved.

[Note: all results were obtained by random fashion, to keep the author guessing about his own plot.]

ALEX: SUNDAY, JUNE 12, AFTERNOON – SOMEWHERE ON THE AFRICAN COAST

The best way of breaking tension after a conversation like that was to go for a swim. But, as we were in port, we couldn't leave our corridor. So it was with a measure of relief that about ten minutes later, I felt movement beneath my feet. The boat was in motion. We were pulling out of Gabon. Or Cameroon. Or Angola. Or Congo. Or possibly, just to mollify Rhody, Equatorial Guinea.

A half hour later, the monitor informed us that we were free to move about the ship. So we went for a swim. I swam purposefully, as if in training. Matti just chilled in the pool for a while, then joined me in more focused swimming, but making sure that we moved independently, not in synchronized laps.

We were joined by a third swimmer – North Dakota, then a fourth – Wyoming, probably my least favorite Top.

• (Wyoming) Greetings, gentleboys. Congratulations on escaping a gang-bang last night.

• Go away, Wyoming.

• (Wyoming) Let's see – which of us here won his group, anyway? Who laid it on the hardest, who proved he was a real Top? Wyoming, wasn't it? Yes, I think it was Wyoming. Let me summarize: Minnesota – second. Wisconsin – third. North Dakota – fourth. Wyoming – first. I'm swimming with a bunch of pussies.

• (Matti) He said go away, Wyoming. I think that's a good idea.

• (Wyoming) It's a free pool. Just because you spend half your life in a pool doesn't mean you own it. Although you're not really swimmers, are you – you're divers.

• (North Dakota) I'm not a diver.

• (Wyoming) No, you're a flutist. A flutist! Flutter my fingers, is there a gayer thing than a male flutist?

• Why don't you take a dive yourself? Off the railing.

• (Wyoming) Jealous, boys? When you're built like me, you're not interested in wimpy sports like diving. (falsetto) Oh, I'm doing a triple-double Salchow, it's so MACHO.

• (Matti, laughing): You're such an idiot. Salchow is figure-skating.

• (Wyoming) Another faggot sport.

• (Matti) Maybe the next competition will be less about the muscle in your arm and more about the muscle in your brain. In which case you'd be in trouble. Come on, Wisconsin. Let's get out of here. I think Wyoming just pissed in the pool.

• (Wyoming) Serve you right if I did. But no – I didn't. And you can stay. Your presence is turning the water lavender. (Leaves.)

• (North Dakota) What an obnoxious jerk. How on earth did they pick him?

• (Matti) There are only six people in the state of Wyoming. And three of them are buffalo.

• (North Dakota) So I heard you guys say that we're off the coast of Africa.

• (Matti) We went southeast from Fort Lauderdale. We're going south now. We're heading toward the Cape.

• (North Dakota) South Africa?

• Yep.

• (North Dakota) You think that's where we're going?

• (Matti) No. But I have the feeling that where we're going is nowhere good. And I wonder if that port of call wasn't a clue of some kind. I wish to hell I knew what happened while we were in port.

DMITRI: SATURDAY, 11 JUNE (the previous evening) – BATA, EQUATORIAL GUINEA

I know what happened while we were in port.

Bata is the largest city of Equatorial Guinea – a nation with something of a reputation for human trafficking and chock-full of corrupt officials who will look the other way. Or even look your way – with a wink. The perfect place for us to stop for supplies – and transact a little business.

With our captives locked in place, it was safe to leave the boat. We paid some locals to stand on the dock and keep a close watch on the windows, with instructions to inform us if they saw movement behind the curtains. The stark warnings we left on the boys' monitors were effective; there were no violations.

We were regaled at a dinner by a combination of government officials and businessmen, both local and from nearby countries. We were offered local treats in the form of boys but politely declined. Their offerings looked to be about fourteen, and I never touch anything that young. We may call our captives `boys', but all are at least eighteen.

Attendees at the dinner submitted bids to be invited to Sunday morning's auction. We only accepted the top twenty bids, so you had to pony up for a seat at the table. Slave prices are confidential, but we were pleased with the intake.

But before the auction could be held, there was work to be done on board. The clients had been promised a selection of eight complete males and eight eunuchs; half of each group would be sold. We had created eight Eunuchs, but how to select the Bottoms to auction off? We could have staged another competition. Or chosen those with the worst – or best – results in the previous competitions. Or draw names out of a hat. But two years ago we got another idea: volunteers.

Not as ridiculous as it sounds.

Prior to pulling into port, we moved the 28 Bottoms to the gymnasium (a windowless room) and kept them there until late at night. We put DeJuan in charge; they considered him credible, if not exactly empathetic. Enforcers were present if muscle was needed. The session was recorded, so we could watch it later. DeJuan laid it out for them:

• We have not reached our final destination, but we have arrived at the African coast – with more of you than we will ultimately need.

• So we are going to make you an offer. Before I do so, I want to remind you that you do not have the right to speak or ask questions. We will not tolerate talking of any kind. The first boy who speaks out of turn will be sent to the operating room, from which he will emerge weighing less than he does now.

That was greeted with sober silence, as we knew it would.

• So here's the offer. Tomorrow afternoon, some of you may leave this ship. The first eight of you who volunteer will be eligible for this privilege. Only four of you will be ALLOWED to leave the ship. If you are one of the chosen four, you will walk off this ship and never see us again. The remaining four – those who volunteer to leave but wind up staying – will face no consequences. We realize you all wish to escape our control, and this will not be held against you.

• The question you should ask is – what awaits me if I leave the ship? The lady or the tiger? [Author's Note: cf. the classic short story of that name by Frank Stockton.] Freedom, and the end of this nightmare? Or will I wish I had stayed on board?

• Of course, you are not allowed to ask. If you did, I wouldn't answer. It would make your decision easy, and we don't want this to be easy.

• You can see that we have placed eight mats up here near me. The first eight of you to stand on those mats will be eligible to compete for a way off this ship. Your time begins now.

DeJuan ended his speech so suddenly that there would have been no time for the Bottoms to ask questions if they had been allowed to. And it didn't take long. Florida rushed out of his seat to stand on the first mat. This surprised no one – the boy would have jumped overboard to get off his ship, given the chance. He was willing to take a risk, no matter what.

Others weren't so sure. Half a minute pause, then Connecticut stood up and slowly but steadily walked to the front of the room. A few seconds more and West Virginia joined them. Then Alaska and Puerto Rico at the same time, and then there was a rush, with five or six Bottoms vying for the last few spots. Kentucky, Alabama, and Arizona wound up the winners. And so we had our merchandise for the auction.

And then we slowly, painstakingly, escorted the other twenty Bottoms back to their cabins, one by one, surrounding them with enforcers so that their nude bodies wouldn't be spotted by our on-shore observers. The volunteers spent the night on the floor of the gymnasium, where the auction was to be held.

DMITRI: SUNDAY, JUNE 12, LATE MORNING – BATA, EQUATORIAL GUINEA

Our twenty guests, all but one of them dark-skinned Africans (the exception was a wealthy white landowner from South Africa), were seated in a row as the merchandise was escorted in from the shower area, in two groups. First the Eunuchs: Colorado, Georgia, Indiana, New York, Oklahoma, Texas, Utah, Vermont. Then the `volunteer' Bottoms: Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Connecticut, Florida, Kentucky, Puerto Rico, West Virginia.

All sixteen were costumed, if that is the appropriate word, with a ball-gag to prevent any unfortunate outbursts as had been previously seen from Utah, Oklahoma and Georgia. They were secured to a long rod suspended from the ceiling, to which their handcuffs were attached. This extended their arms over their heads, exposing their armpits. They were fitted into leg-spreaders, so that they were perfectly spread-eagled. The audience had the front perspective, but there was ample room to walk behind them to take in the aft view.

Of the eight Eunuchs Oklahoma stood out, the only one whose skin matched the bidders'. Utah and Vermont were blonds, Texas a rare redhead, the other four brunets. Not that that distinction was terribly obvious after shaving.

Three of the eight Bottoms were Latino (Connecticut, Florida and Puerto Rico), the others white, an unusual mix. The African-American contestants had, in general, outperformed whites in competition and so there were still five black Tops; those demoted to Bottomhood had treated DeJuan's offer with skepticism. And wisely so. We were offering the tiger, not the lady.

It was a sort of silent auction, and a semi-blind one at that. The bidders all submitted a bid, but not for a particular boy - only for the right to choose a boy. They had to indicate category - Bottom or Eunuch. The top four bids in each category would get the right to choose their property, in order of the size of their bids. If you were not the top bidder, you risked winning a bid only to find that the boy you coveted had been snapped up by someone else before you. Incentive to bid high.

But before the bidding took place, there was the vetting of the merchandise. That gave an indication of which boys were likely to be the top prospects. Texas, more muscular than the other Eunuchs, got a lot of attention, as did Utah, the opposite extreme, slighter and shorter than the others. I couldn't discern a favorite among the Bottoms.

The vetting involved a lot of touching, moving hands all around the torso and legs, feeling the cock, feeling the scrotum (empty or full), and of course, lots of squeezing of buttocks and fingering of anuses.

Several clients asked to take the merchandise for a "test drive", but of course we refused. It would have given bidders an idea of who else was interested in that boy, which might have the effect of lowering their bid. Besides, the first fuck after purchase should be special, not just the second or third one that day.

The last sentence was the explanation we gave them.

The Eunuchs were auctioned off first, the winning bid going to a man acting on behalf of a small tribe in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The tribe was wealthy, due to the discovery of a vein of diamonds in its territory. The bidder selected Texas, a good choice for them, but not a good one for Texas. For the tribe was rather primitive and had maintained ancient traditions. One of those traditions was that the tribe expected each of its sixty adult males to display their virility by breeding a captive male once a week. This meant that Texas could expect to be fucked eight or nine times a day. As this would wear out anyone, the longevity of the unfortunate in this role was not long; the tribe appeared annually at our stop in Bata to buy a replacement. Rumor had it that the end of his year's `service' was marked by a tribal feast at which the captive was the special guest. Garnished with vegetables.

Of course, that is a rumor, and I cannot attest to its legitimacy. But I have noticed that the tribe always seems to select a rather beefy young man.

The second highest bid went to a Nigerian brothel, who chose Utah for its stable of lads. The other two winning bids were a local businessman, who chose New York to be his personal slave, and the chief executive of a soccer team in Cameroon, who purchased Georgia. It is my understanding that Georgia was to be used as stakes in all of his team's matches – the winning team would have full use of him until the next week's matches. (I'm not sure what happens if there is a tie.) Colorado, Indiana, Oklahoma and Vermont would stay on board.

Connecticut, Alaska, Puerto Rico, and Arizona were the Bottoms sold. We were somewhat disappointed – not in the prices these boys fetched, but because we hadn't succeeded in offloading Florida. Florida was more trouble than he was worth, but he would remain in our charge for the duration of the journey. I would have to inform Abdul (whom you'll meet later) that anyone who purchased Florida expecting a trainable slave would have a tough go of it; he would best be directed toward a buyer who had intentions that didn't involve Florida's cooperation.

West Virginia, Alabama and Kentucky would also remain on board, their sale slated for later. We knew they would tell the other Bottoms what had transpired, and eventually the Tops would find out, but we didn't want them to know right away, so we would keep Bottoms away from Tops for a while.

ALEX: SUNDAY, JUNE 12, DINNERTIME – ATLANTIC OCEAN, OFF THE COAST OF AFRICA

Now that we were back at sea, meals were once again in the Dining Hall. Sunday night, Matti and I collected Rhody, Noisy and Del – the five of us feeling like a close-knit group – and headed to dinner. We weren't surprised to find the Bottoms and Eunuchs absent.

We WERE surprised to find our plans to sit together stymied. On arrival, we were directed to the port side, where there were four four-person tables. We were stunned to see Mississippi and South Carolina, two African-Americans almost always in each other's company, sitting at different tables: Had they had a falling out? Similarly, the Dakota twins, as we called them (although they looked nothing alike – North being white-blond and South being Native American), were also separated. Peculiar.

Each table had a different color tablecloth – blue, red, green, and yellow, respectively. Colorful, but it made me suspicious. Could it be somehow related to the competition? Round Four wasn't until tomorrow. But was something happening tonight?

Both mysteries were partly resolved when Joey presented us with a stainless steel bowl containing several small felt bags tied with a drawstring. The bags were just large enough to hold a single marble, which, in fact, they did. Noisy opened his little bag and found a blue marble. Clearly, he was supposed to sit at the table with the blue tablecloth. We were being sorted into groups, by a random fashion. Which would account for the separation of the two Black friends, and of the Dakotas.

Now I felt sure this was connected to Round Four, though I had no idea how.

Rhody went next, and picked out a green marble. I drew blue; Matti and Del drew red. I found myself grouped with Kansas and North Dakota, as well as Noisy. California and Mississippi were at the Red table with Matti and Del. Rhody wound up with Iowa, Nevada and Oregon – none of whom I knew well. The Yellow table had Maryland, South Carolina, South Dakota, and Wyoming.

So the question was – was Noisy my teammate or my competition? And was Matti in his own separate battle – or was it group against group?

They weren't saying.

Of course, Noisy was already a friend, but the dinner gave me a chance to talk a bit to Kansas and North Dakota – the conversation in the pool being one of the few times I had engaged with the latter. He was of Swedish extraction, unsurprisingly, and was majoring in music at the University of North Dakota. A flutist, as Wyoming had so rudely alluded. He wanted to be a composer, something that now would be possible only if somehow he escaped the predicament we all found ourselves in.

Kansas was a business major at Wichita State and on their gymnastics team, though, he stated humbly, not one of their leading lights. His musculature befit his avocation; the guy was strong. If this was an intra-table competition, I thought, watch out for this guy. Wouldn't want to arm-wrestle him. He had been rocking competitions all week. As a person, though, he seemed nice enough.

The dinner was delicious – lobster, no less. But we ate without relish, too nervous about what was about to unfold. Surely this was leading up to something – DeJuan Brooks, or possibly `Thomas' would tell us what was in store. And so after dinner came the big moment when . . . nothing happened.

They sent us back to our cabins, confused. There was a competition coming, and surely the tablecloths had something to do with it. But what?

Matti and I sat on the bed in my cabin, which had only a view of ocean. But it had the sunset, which was spectacular. We caught one of those golden moments when the sun slipped below the horizon of the water producing a brilliant green flash. We watched it together; it was all very romantic. Except we stayed on opposite sides of the bed – sitting – and didn't touch.

Curfew came at ten and Matti had to return to his cabin. I waited and, sure enough, a half hour later, Latronius appeared.

I sighed.

• Lookie, lookie, see what have we here. One prime naked boy, hungering for my cock up his ass.

• Not gonna happen, Latronius. You know that.

• Not tonight, maybe. (Grabbing his crotch.) But I'm ready the moment you fall.

• . . . Latronius?

• Hmmm, baby's in a serious mood, I see.

• AM I going to fall? Are we all going to fall? Are there really any winners in this so-called competition?

• Worried?

• Yes.

• You should be. But yes, there are winners. When we get off the boat, there will still be Tops.

• How many? Two? Four?

• More than that.

• But not sixteen.

• (shrug) You'll find out when you get off the boat.

• And where will that be, Latronius? Not Russia. We're off the coast of Africa and we're going south. The sunset was to my right, the sun sets in the west; we're going south, Latronius. That's not the way to Russia.

• You a smart boy, aren't you, Wisconsin?

• What country was that where we stopped? Gabon? Cameroon?

• Equatorial Guinea.

• You're kidding.

• Why would I kid about that? That stop was a place called Bata, Equatorial Guinea.

• Holy shit, Rhody was right. Okay, that's where we WERE. Where are we GOING?

• Russia. A few of you.

• A few of us. And the rest?

• (shrug)

• We're heading south. Where the fuck are we going, Latronius?

• You mean, "Where are we going to fuck?"

• Cute. We aren't going to fuck.

• Not tonight, but you're going to show me your pink little rosebud, aren't you. Now, get on your knees and bend over, bitch.

At least he didn't put his cock in my mouth this time. But he manhandled every square inch of my body and laid kisses everywhere, including my pink little rosebud.

All things considered, it could have been worse. And I got some information out of him. We had stopped in Equatorial Guinea. We are getting off this boat – with more than four Tops. And some of us – but only some of us – were going to Russia.

Only this was not the way to Russia.

[COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: RPS (...whatever that stands for...]