"Mandrasat" is a work of adult fiction; any similarity to persons, places, or events present or past is unintended and purely coincidental.
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When the depilatory lotion had been washed from Bret's body, and the grooms had planed away the excess water with their hands, he was led back to Zarak who turned about face and ordered him to follow as he exited the latrine. He was suffering no little distress, but after the ministrations of his grooms, Bret felt he would be able to keep up, hoping not cross his overseer and suffer more painful consequences.
He wished he could have had some time alone to contemplate his situation; the mind shattering brutality of these first few days of his captivity had demonstrated to him beyond a doubt that escape was impossible and rescue improbable. He was beginning to lose his sense of time and continuity. He knew that no persons from his former life would ever think of looking for him, but if they should, he had left no directions on where or how he could be contacted. He planned to address that detail "later on." Now he had ceased to exist anywhere on the planet, except at Mandrasat.
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MANDRASAT
Chapter Two: Zarak! (cont'd)
It became increasingly difficult for Bret to keep pace with Zarak as he threaded his way quickly through the citadel's musty corridors and across its alleyways and courtyards. His leg muscles throbbed from cramping, the soles of his feet stung bitterly from the stony, rough roadway he'd been forced to run upon all morning, and his back and buttocks were a lattice work of fiery stripes. The pain did, however, help him focus his mind and his will on keeping his mouth shut and his gait approximating Zarak's. Their destination was once again Mandrasat's exercise pit.
"You will spend the next two hours here in the pit," Zarak said gruffly, "exercising your upper body. You will be assigned an overseer to supervise you and a Nubian to encourage you."
Bret wanted to cry out in disbelieve and shock at Zarak's order; he was physically spent and in pain over most of his body; he had been forced to submit to Jullah's cock in his ass and in his mouth throughout the night and to the giant Nubian slave beast's tongue and twelve inches repeatedly plowing his guts this morning. He wanted to curl up into a ball and dissolve into the floor, just disappear, but he knew that would never happen. He was a slave and slaves must do what they were told.
"Yes, Master," he murmured simply.
He was more aware of the scene in the exercise pit now than he had been the day before. It was but faintly reminiscent of any gym or health club in the world, except that the thirty or forty lean, muscular men exercising, or supervising, or 'encouraging,' were completely naked. No mirrors hung on the walls, no carpeting on the floor, there was no air conditioning, just large fans on the ceiling circulating hot air heavy with the pungent odor of sweating male bodies.
The disquieting fact that he was the only slave in the pit not pierced by rings through his nipples and earlobes had not escaped his notice, nor that every cock on every Nubian and every auction slave in the room was either fully rigid or almost so.
Though he tried not to stare at the genitals of the other slaves as he followed Zarak across the floor, he could not miss observing the devices wound around their balls and cocks, a kind of interlocking cluster of three metal rings, one fitted tightly around the base of their cocks which pushed them up and forward, the other two encircling and spreading their testicles away from each other, squeezing them out on either side underneath their cocks like balloons. Added to the unsettling thoughts already swirling around in his mind, Bret was now both frightened and anxious.
Zarak led him to a hulk of an overseer who Bret imagined must exercise at least eight hours a day, and whose tackle would have done any stallion proud. Standing next to this massive body builder was a no less endowed, but less bulky black Nubian, a whip of knotted cords in his hand and anticipation gleaming in his eyes.
"Salaam to Master Hassan, slave," Zarak barked, and Bret quickly dropped to his knees, stifling in his throat all reflexive groans of pain. He bent over, touching his forehead to the floor, exposing his hole to view, then kissed the overseer's feet, knelt up straight and kissed the tip of his thick, flaccid cock, then each of his balls. He knew to remain motionless on his knees should this Master want his cock sucked.
Hassan, turning to Zarak, and with a heavy guttural accent, said in Arabic, "This slave does the Salaam very well. How long have you been training him?"
"Four days," Zarak answered. "Master Shareem himself captured him last Saturday and transported him from Colonel Mustafa's airbase that night; the slave was given to me the next day."
"Was he a virgin," Hassan chuckled. "Were you the first to taste his cherry?"
"He was most assuredly a virgin before Mustafa and his troops got hold of him. No, wait," he said snapping his fingers, "Master Tariq was the first to plow his cock up the slave's golden tunnel, then Mustafa and his soldiers played with his holes for a couple of hours.
"Would you like him to suck your cock," Zarak asked. "He is not too experienced at it yet, but he is learning."
"First tell me, Zarak, how long has Master Shareem assigned this slave to the pit today?"
"For two hours," Zarak replied.
"Then I and my Nubian shall take him for an additional hour after he has completed the Master's orders," Hassan smiled, eying Bret's long legs and torso. "Maybe I can make him more of an expert at sucking cock."
Both overseers laughed, then, speaking again in English, Zarak ordered Bret to stand.
"Master Hassan will direct you in your exercise routine. He will observe and measure your effort, and if you do not produce the results he expects, he will order this Nubian to use his whip on any part of your body he chooses."
Bret glanced furtively at the Nubian, and felt his guts clench at the sneer on his face and his feral gaze riveted on his genitals.
"You obey Master Hassan instantly, slave," Zarak continued threateningly, "or I will have Master Jullah pay you another visit."
Satisfied his words and his warning had their desired effect, Zarak turned, recrossed the floor and exited the exercise pit with no further comment.
Hassan directed Bret to spread his legs and raise his arms above his head, then walked slowly around him, dragging the flat his hands over his chest, flanks, and buttocks. He squatted down in front of him, balancing on the balls of his feet, working his fingers into his thigh and calf muscles, then he ran his fingertips along the underside of Bret's cock, grunting as he brought it fully hard and stiff. Finally he stood up, ordered Bret to flex his biceps, then to clasp his hands behind his head and scrunch forward, flexing his gut and ab muscles. He chuckled at the way Bret's rigid cock in this position jutted straight out from his smooth, hairless crotch, like a nozzle, then slowly nodding his head, approving the body he'd just inspected, Hassan decided on Bret's exercise regimen.
"On to the bench," he ordered. "You will begin with bench presses. We start with fifty pounds and increase from there."
Bret quickly lay full length on the bench, knees wide apart, his cock, semi-hard, resting on his belly, his feet flat on the floor.
"Five sets," the overseer barked, "fifteen reps each, but lest you think I will take slack from you...," he snapped his fingers at the Nubian and pointed to Bret's outstretched body.
Immediately the Nubian's whip sliced through the air and across Bret's belly. His arms and legs flew about wildly as he howled in shock and pain. Then the Nubian's whip lashed rapidly back and forth across his upper thighs.
He hardly kept his balance on the bench during the Nubian's sudden and unexpected attack; his belly and thighs were ablaze. Groaning aloud, he gritted his teeth, tears welling in his eyes.
"My Nubian knows how to bring out the best in slaves," Hassan growled. "You are here for two hours and I intend to get the best out of you. Five sets, fifteen reps. Begin now," he commanded.
With his body still quivering from the raking it took from the Nubian's whip, Bret nonetheless reached up to the barbell resting on the rack above his head, and, focusing his attention and with resolute determination, took hold of it .
Hassan drilled him through five sets, then ordered him off the bench and to the floor for one hundred push ups. He repeated this drill twice more, increasing the weight to ninety pounds; repeating the procedure again, he increased the weight to a hundred and thirty pounds.
He worked Bret to the point of exhaustion before granting him an extended rest. Rolling off the bench, he sprawled face up on the floor, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open, sucking great gulps air into his lungs.
Hassan ordered the Nubian slave to pour several buckets of water over Bret's head and torso, then allowed him five more minutes recuperation. He directed the Nubian to keep a full bucket of water at hand throughout the session.
"When I tell you, slave," Hassan shouted at Bret, "you will drink out of that bucket. Now back on the bench. Do again three sets, and this time I do not overlook your slacking."
The Nubian licked his lips and snapped his whip through the air excitedly.
Bret called upon every ounce of strength he possessed and every trick and exercise habit he had ever learned over the years to keep the Nubian and his whip at bay. He succeeded throughout most of the time he spent doing bench presses and push ups. At those few times when Hassan had to spot him declaring him to be slacking, mostly toward the end of the session, he would be handed over to the Nubian for encouragement.
Keeping his jaw clenched tight, imprisoning his groans at the back of his throat, Bret tried to remain impassive as the Nubian lashed his bundle of stinging, biting twine across the most sensitive spots on his body.
Hassan would not tolerate any faltering even during floggings, so Bret was forced to continue with his bench presses and push ups while the Nubian flailed away. His belly and chest in front and calves and ankles in back took the brunt of the Nubian's whip since those areas had not been targeted that morning by the overseer driving the field cart.
After the rest period following Bret's final set of presses, Hassan moved him to a rack of cast iron dumbbells, instructing him to take the twenty pound bells and commence bicep curls; heavier weights would be employed at Hassan's command.
Liquid fire pumped through Bret's veins and his lungs burned with every breath. He knew he had to pass through this searing hell as his body reconditioned itself after two weeks of stupid, wasteful inactivity prior to his capture. Hassan frequently ordered him to stop and drink from the water bucket into which he dropped several small pills each time the Nubian refilled it.
Bret knew that athletes sometimes added sodium bicarbonate to their drinking water to ease the burning effects of lactic acid in their muscles. He assumed that was what Hassan was doing, and he was correct, but the overseer was unconcerned about Bret's comfort level, he was interested only in fulfilling Shareem's command that this slave perform two hours of upper body exercise, and he did not want to explain to the Master about any interruptions because of muscle cramps. He was, however, impressed with Bret's overall physical condition.
Hassan always thought too many of Shareem's auction slaves were just pretty boys with soft, curved, pretty bodies who would burst into hysterics at the first extreme physical punishment thrown at them. This one was pretty as well; to be sure, very pretty, but he was also lean and hard muscled; he had not fallen to pieces even under the roughest torture as the bruises, scrapes, and welts on his body testified. Hassan looked forward to his rapidly approaching hour of pleasure with him.
The final phase of Bret's session, he was told, would concentrate on his triceps.
"You do twenty-five pulldowns," Hassan ordered. "Twenty-five pounds to start."
Bret was forced to complete five sets of pulldowns, twenty-five reps each, barely finishing the last set with seventy-five pound weights.
"Cool down now," Hassan barked. "On the floor, on your back, give me fifty crunches, elbow to opposite knee. Begin!"
In between each set of fifty crunches, Bret was ordered to lie spread eagle, eyes closed, for two or three minutes while the Nubian tossed buckets of cold water over his body. Hassan increased the rest period slightly each time until he reached five minutes, then declared the session at an end.
"Now you will perform for me in private," Hassan clucked, and ordered Bret to stand up and follow the Nubian through a side door.
Dripping wet from half a dozen buckets of water thrown over him, Bret was confused by Hassan's latest order, but knew better than to question it, or even think about it. The dousing did not take away any of the burning or pains crackling across his body, he still limped, favoring his sore feet, and winced at the biting stings from the whips, but for the moment, at least, he also felt almost invigorated.
As Hassan gave a second Nubian directions on cleaning up the exercise area, Bret's Nubian led him through the doorway to a second door at the end of a short hallway. The Nubian opened the door and motioned Bret into the room ahead of him, and immediately Bret's confusion over Hassan's intentions ended.
The room was a duplicate of Zarak's quarters, except, instead of Zarak's oversized bed, Bret saw an enormous black padded mat, easily ten foot per side and a foot and a half thick, on the floor in the middle of the room. The Nubian's whip suddenly slashed across Bret's already reddened buttocks, propelling him forward, screeching and stumbling onto the mat, falling face down on top of it. The Nubian pounced on him instantly, squirming and struggling to lock him in a submissive grip around his neck and shoulders.
Caught off guard and momentarily stunned, Bret, slow to respond to the Nubian's assault and fighting to gather his wits, tried to free himself only to discover the Nubian had clamped a choke hold around his neck and a scissors lock around his legs. He bucked and flung across the mat, flailing his arms wildly, trying to grab a handful of the Nubian's skin, but the black slave was tightening his grip around Bret's neck and legs, rendering his attempts at defense useless.
As his body was twisted into the exact position the Nubian wished, Bret felt the hard jab of his cockhead pounding the lips of his hole. He tried again to break away, but the Nubian had situated himself face down on his back, pinning his legs tightly around Bret's and giving himself ample leverage to shove his cock forward, through his hole and into the hot tight chute inside. Bret gasped out loud as the Nubian fucked his cock straight into his gut.
Hassan arrived at the doorway as the Nubian's hips thrust forward drilling his cock deep inside Bret's ass. His arms, clamped tight against Bret's chest, forced his shoulder and the right side of his face to the mat, and his legs, pinned by the Nubian's powerful scissors lock, were completely immobilized.
The Nubian slammed himself back and forth against Bret's hole like a piston, scraping his cock abrasively against the walls of his guts. Bret groaned in mindless euphoria and searing pain at the force of the Nubian's fuck and his blistering, ecstatic, grinding attack on his prostate.
The overseer leaped onto the mat and dropped to his knees next to Bret's face. Grinning, he took Bret's head into his hands and pulled it toward his crotch and the twitching spike rising rapidly to meet it. No explanation was necessary; Bret had been down this path before; while the Nubian slammed himself wildly against his ass, Hassan crammed his enormous cock into Bret's mouth.
Bret tried desperately to show he was cooperating with Hassan, but the Nubian was throwing himself around so wildly, it was impossible to keep the overseer's cock in his mouth without using his teeth, and he knew instinctively not to allow his teeth ever to touch cock. He clung to Hassan's cockhead with his lips, and sucked on it as hard as he could to stabilize his grip, but the Nubian was in a frenzy, howling and thrashing about, pinning Bret's arms and legs so tightly that he had no way to resist.
When the scalding pressure built to unbearable intensity at the base of the Nubian's cock, his body stiffened, his back arched, and, bellowing at the top of his voice, an explosion of white hot cum tore the length of his cockshaft and blasted out of his cockhole. He slammed himself on Bret like a pile driver, and Hassan wisely pulled his cock out of Bret's mouth until the Nubian's convulsions subsided.
After the sheer frenzy of his orgasm, the Nubian lay shuddering on top of Bret for several long moments, gasping for air, as muscle spasms continued to rake his body. Finally, his cock still firmly buried in Bret's ass, he rose up on his elbows, looked Hassan in the face, and smiled contentedly.
"Stay on top of the slave and watch me fuck my cock in his mouth," Hassan gleefully commanded, grasping Bret's head again between his hands.
Hassan, maneuvered himself onto his ass, his legs bent high, knees pressed against his chest, his crotch flush with the top of Bret's head; he cupped Bret's chin with his right hand, holding it up and shoved his cock into his mouth with his left. The Nubian squealed with delight and began squirming over Bret's back, stiffening his cock and pumping it deeper into his ass. Bret had no choice but to insure he would not disappoint Hassan.
The overseer's enormous cock, so thick Bret could barely stretch his lips around it, nor take much more than one half its length into his mouth before its cockhead hit the back of his throat, sent his mind reeling. He knew what Jullah and Zarak liked him to do to their cocks with his mouth and hoped Hassan enjoyed the same. Apparently he was right as Hassan closed his eyes and moaned at every jab of Bret's tongue. As much as Bret could, he sucked his mouth tight around the monster bulging his cheeks from the inside, but he could feel it getting longer and thicker and harder, and a wave of panic rolled through his stomach.
The Nubian rested his head on Bret's right shoulder and, growling like a sated tiger, began working his tongue into his ear, driving it over and around its inner ridges, biting its edges and sucking its lobe, continuing to grind himself against Bret's hole.
With his hands pressed firmly against the backs of both the Nubian's and Bret's heads, Hassan rocked himself back and forth on his tail bone shoving his cock against the tight grip of Bret's mouth, in ecstasy at the force of Bret's tongue scouring over, around, and under it.
Hardly able to think with the Nubian riding his hole and with Hassan's thick, hard muscle wedged in his mouth, Bret tried to focus on the enormous barrage of cum that would be momentarily exploding into his throat.
He had struggled with Zarak's and Jullah's cocks before to get room in his mouth to take the rapid fire salvos out of their cockholes, and given the size and thickness of Hassan's meat, he was definitely in their league, if not above it. But he could not maneuver his mouth around the overseer's cock; his head was held rigidly in place and pressed tight against the Nubian's by Hassan. He knew his only recourse was to start gulping frantically before the blitzkrieg let loose, and he knew he would not have a long wait.
Both Hassan and the Nubian were pumping their cocks faster and faster as the pressure built to blast their cum; the blistering heat massing behind their balls consumed them, and in one searing eruption, like machine guns spitting fire, their cocks erupted. They howled in unison as shot upon shot of burning semen scalded the lips of their cockholes.
Bret, dizzy with sensations that both his holes were furiously sucking cum and hallucinating that he could see himself and feel himself gulping wads of hot, white cream down his throat and pumping a wild white surge up from his guts to meet and mix together, convulsed like a worm on a hook and blacked out.
Body spasms ripped through Hassan and the Nubian until they blew the last of their cum. Bret continued sucking Hassan's cock and writhing on the Nubian's even though he'd apparently lost consciousness. The black slave and the overseer collapsed on top of Bret and each other, a tangle of arms and legs. They lay gasping for many long minutes, drenched in one another's sweat and relishing the feel and smell of their bodies.
Hassan was first to move, disentangling himself, standing up, and vigorously shaking his cock and balls. He ordered the Nubian to get up. "We exchange holes now," he snapped and shoved the Nubian off Bret's back with the bottom of his foot. Taking the Nubian's place, Hassan squatted down, straddling Bret's buttocks, then, sitting up straight, took hold of the semiconscious slave's flanks above the hips, and shoving the balls of his feet against the floor for leverage, rammed his cock straight into his gut.
He rode Bret's ass, wildly pumping his hips up and down and back and forth, grinding his crotch against the lips of his hole. The Nubian slave sat at Bret's face and impaled his head on his black cock. They howled and screeched again as their cocks erupted a second time with as much force as the first.
Pulling himself out of Bret's ass, Hassan ordered the Nubian to bring two buckets of water from the exercise pit, and, reluctantly pulling his cock out of Bret's mouth, he did so. Hassan rolled Bret over onto his back and sat down on his chest, taking hold of the back of his head, pulling it up, and pinning it between his thighs. He then began to wipe his giant cockhead back and forth across Bret's mouth.
His eyes fluttered for a few moments, then blinking, he was fully conscious and staring at the gigantic length and width of Hassan's cock kissing his lips. With just the slightest pressure on his mouth, Bret opened wide and accepted the enormous shaft Hassan slid along the top of his tongue. He sucked his mouth in tight around as it filled his warm, moist cave, stretching his lips and ballooning his cheeks.
"Now you suck it clean, slave," Hassan ordered, rocking back and forth on Bret's chest.
As Hassan slid his cock forward and back through his mouth, Bret believed he felt the overseer's hole scratching against his chest midway between his nipples. Hassan's monstrous shaft responded rapidly along its length and under its head to the pounding of Bret's tongue and the pressure of his cheeks sucked in against it.
He was gulping frantically before the first barrage of cum slammed against the back of his mouth.
There was a rhythm to sucking cock, and Bret was beginning to discover it. As Hassan's cock pumped out shot after shot of cum, Bret could allow a quick buildup before gulping it down; if he timed it right, he could suck down wad after wad without chocking or gagging, but his own excitement at the feel of Hassan's hard, hot, gigantic cock in his mouth threw him off, and he choked, spitting cum out of his mouth.
"No! No!" the overseer screamed. "You suck it all or I will have your teeth pulled out." Then squeezing Bret's face into his belly, even as his cock continued to shoot, Hassan ordered him to suck every drop.
Bret wiped his tongue across Hassan's belly, jabbing it into his navel, sucking his enormous balls into his mouth, tickling the fringe of his scrotum with its tip until the overseer was satisfied he had licked up all the cum that had spilled out of his mouth.
Hassan stood up, and for a few moments remained astride over Bret's body, fists on his hips, looking down at the slave lying beneath him.
"I have enjoyed your holes, slave, and I look forward to riding you again even harder. You will see much of me and my cock in the exercise pit until Master Shareem puts you on his auction block."
Stepping to one side, Hassan ordered Bret to get up and go to the open shower in the corner; it was identical to the one in Zarak's room, a large head protruding from the ceiling, two handles, a recessed soap shelf with an identically worn brown block of soap resting on it, no sidewalls and no curtain.
The Nubian returned carrying two buckets of water which Hassan ordered him to dump over Bret's head.
"You two slaves use soap and wash each other clean, and finger out your holes too."
Shrieking with glee, the Nubian turned the shower on full blast, grabbed the block of soap and lunged for Bret's balls and cock only to be slammed into the wall by a sudden thrust of Bret's hip. To Hassan's unbridled delight, the two slaves started grappling with each other under the pounding shower. The Nubian, still grasping for Bret's tackle, tried to kick his feet out from under him, but, using the Nubian's momentum to his advantage, Bret spun behind him, grabbing him around the waist with both arms.
The Nubian kicked furiously, trying to connect with Bret's shins, but Bret was dancing too quickly back and forth and side to side from one foot to the other, and tightening his grip like a constrictor each time the Nubian exhaled. Out of breath and in desperation, the Nubian leaped into the air and kicked his feet viciously against the wall, slamming Bret backwards and bringing them both crashing to the floor.
The impact momentarily loosened Bret's grip and the Nubian's arms shot up and behind him, grabbing the back of Bret's head and pulling it down over his shoulder. Both slaves were on their knees, the Nubian pinning Bret's head across his shoulder as Bret's arms slid instinctively from the Nubian's waist to his crotch. The wrestling match ended when Bret's fingers tightened around the Nubian's balls, but something else began, something else that erased the painful welts and stripes that wracked his body.
The Nubian fell forward on his hands and knees, with Bret crouched over him. At the feel of the hard body beneath him, waves of excitement surged out from Bret's belly to his chest and into his genitals. He squeezed the Nubian's body tighter, pressing it hard against his own; bolts of electricity streaked through his torso and limbs, his throbbing pulse deafening in his ears. He could not hear the howls that exploded out of their mouths as he plowed and barreled his cock through the Nubian's hole and fucked it full force up his clenched chute. He slammed himself again and again into the Nubian's ass, roaring wildly. Nothing had ever felt like this before. Nothing had ever detonated muscles and nerves throughout his body like this before. Nothing had ever ignited his mind, his body, his skin like this before.
He was fucking. He was rammed up the Nubian's ass, and he was fucking. Coils of fire tightened in his guts, his balls, his cock and with one incredible eruption, sheets of flame blasted through Bret's cock and into the Nubian's gut. Over and over again, accompanied by cries he could not hear, Bret shot bolt after bolt into that guarded spot deep within the Nubian's body, all the while hard jerking the Nubian's cock. His vision and his hearing and the noise around him all spun out of control in to a white, numbing haze.
Not until he felt the shower again pounding the top of his head and cascading over his face and body was Bret aware of where he was and what had happened. Confused and with no clear thought in his mind, he found himself sitting astride the Nubian's ass. Water streaked down his face, onto his chest and belly and onto the Nubian's buttocks tightly clamped against his cock, imprisoning it buried deep inside. He was breathing heavily, gasping, actually, for air, and unsure of how he was feeling. His cock burned and was sore, but he liked that. He didn't know why he liked it, he just did.
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Zarak stood beside Hassan near the large floor mat where this steaming orgy had begun an hour earlier. He was visibly amazed at what he had just witnessed; his slave, howling at the top of his voice and brutally ramming his cock into the Nubian slave's ass as though it was his right.
"He knows how to fuck," Hassan observed, smiling broadly, "but he needs more practice sucking cock. He made a mess of his job with me."
"I am not surprised," Zarak answered, still staring in fascination as Bret continued pumping and grinding himself against the Nubian's hole. "The Nubian obviously underestimated my slave's strength and resilience."
"Or overestimated his own," Hassan scowled.
"I do not think so," Zarak responded rubbing the tips of his fingers across his chain metal chastity pouch. "I have seen this one battle auction slaves in the combat pits and claim a lion's share of their holes as his victory trophies. I think he wanted this slave's cock up his ass, and that should earn him a week at hauling field carts, do you not agree, Hassan?"
"Agreed," Hassan replied, "but the fuck was a marvel to see, as is your attempt to control your cock inside that pouch of yours."
Ignoring Hassan's jibe, Zarak continued, "Have you devised an exercise plan for my slave having now enjoyed his ass?'
"I think," Hassan answered humorously, "we will pay great attention to his lower belly muscles, his abdominals. As they become more powerful, you, my dear Zarak, will be able to instruct him on their use in giving the greatest pleasure to his future master as he fucks his cock up his ass."
"Even in his undeveloped state now," Zarak commented, "his gut muscles have provided me with most pleasurable fucks. I can but imagine what ecstasy awaits as you, my dear Hassan, create a passageway of thick, grinding muscles."
Both overseers laughed heartily, then Zarak stepped across the room to where Bret sat, under the shower, astride the Nubian's ass.
"Get up, slave," he barked. "Clean yourself; Master Kasim awaits your return."
Bret nodded his head and slowly moved off the Nubian's body, sliding his cock free. He bent over to pick up the block of soap lying next the Nubian's head; suddenly, the Nubian grabbed Bret's wrist, and rolling on his side, attempted to pull him down on top himself.
Zarak responded instantly with a ferocious kick to the Nubian's ribs.
"Do not interfere with my orders, you fucking Nubian, or I will have your black skin burned off."
Kicking him a second time, he raged, "do you understand me!"
Crying out in pain and shaking his head furiously, the Nubian howled and groaned, rolling himself into a ball.
Bret regained his footing under the shower and began rubbing the block of soap over his body.
"Squat down," Zarak ordered, "and clean out your hole. Master Kasim will full it up again soon enough."
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MANDRASAT is very much a 'Work Under Construction,' and I would appreciate hearing your thoughts and suggestions should you choose to continue reading through the story. Please email your comments to Pete Brown petebrownuk@yahoo.com