SEX SLAVES OF EAST LONGSHOTT DOWN - PART III
by Infidel Dog


Authors' note: This story is a fantasy, involving the kidnapping of
young teenagers for the pleasure of a Middle Eastern Pasha. The Pasha
is not a cruel man, but his sexual appetite is not easily satisfied,
and, when it comes to girls. he has a number of preferences as to
their physical characteristics. He is rich enough to carry out a
program of enhancement to the girls in his harem to make them meet his
requirements.

To Western minds, the Pasha and his tastes would be seen as perverted,
kinky and sick. We prefer not to judge the man by Western standards,
but offer this account as a semi-fictional documentary record of the
doings of such a man. Please remind yourself constantly, in his land,
his behaviour is considered normal and reasonable.

If you object to scenes showing young girls being exposed to
situations which Westerners would find intolerably humiliating, read
no further. If you are below the age of consent in your community,
delete this material at once.

As this story is a semi-documentary, and much of the material comes
from a Middle Eastern employee of a harem, there is a great amount of
information about weights and measurements. This is unavoidable, but
can easily be ignored by the reader who is more interested in the
narrative. Weights and measurements in this story are presented in
metric units (metres, millimetres, kilograms and litres etc) as they
were presented to us by our correspondent in the Middle East. If
readers wish to convert these to US or Imperial units, we advise them
to have a means of conversion or a pocket calculator handy. We have
not included the equivalents in inches, pounds and fluid ounces, to
avoid unduly cluttering the text.

1 centimetre (cm) = 0.3937 inches
1 kilogram (kg) = 2.205 pounds
1 litre (l) = 2.113 US pints, or 1.76 UK pints
1 metre (m) = the length equal to 1,650,763.3 wavelengths in vacuum of
the radiation corresponding to the transition between the levels 2p to
base 10 and 5p to base 5 of the krypton 86 atom (as every French
schoolboy knows)
Also, as every British schoolgirl knows, one stone = 14 pounds





SEX SLAVES OF EAST LONGSHOTT DOWN - PART III
by Infidel Dog


Chapter 8:- The Sale

They were all dressed in their new clothes. Even in their shocked and
violated state, the girls looked at each other as girls will when
playing at dressing up. Candi's eyes ranged over Caro, her friend,
looking exotic and slim in the simple white linen. She looked at
Caro's younger sister, who looked somehow sluttish and outrageously
sexy, her big breasts thrusting out at the thin material, the dark
circles of her areolae clearly visible.

And Kitty! After she had tried on the first dress, the Arab women had
burst out into cackles of laughter, and one of them had gone away and
fetched a dress in a larger size. It was probably the largest one they
had. Now, with the single hook secured behind her neck, Kitty stood
motionless, the dress swishing round her ankles, falling straight from
the peaks of her giant breasts, which hung well below the level of her
waist.

The senior matron gave them a quick final inspection, and pronounced
herself satisified. "You come now", she smiled, and with the powerful
matron from the bath leading the way, they set off, passing through
several doorways. At each step, they became aware of an increasing
level of noise. It wasn't the noise of the shanty-town they had heard
all about them since waking up that morning, this was a hubbub of many
voices, muttering, talking, laughing, screaming.

The noise built up and up, until the matron swished aside a heavy
curtain, and led them out into an open space. The noise now hit them
like a blow. They were in a huge room, like a small aircraft hangar.
It reminded Carolyn of an exhibition hall, with stands all around the
outside. The space in the centre was occupied by hundreds of jostling
people, mostly men, but some women. There were all sorts there; some
in traditional Arab dress, robes and headdresses, some in Western
clothes, lightweight linen suits, but still with the headdress. The
women were, it seemed, all huge, draped from head to foot in clothing
designed to disguise their femininity, but not quite succeeding.

Many of the watchers had turned as the girls were led into the room,
and as the word spread, more and more faces turned to look at them,
and the noise level rose several notches. The girls clung together
helplessly. They were on a raised stage, about waist-high to the
crowd, so they could see over their heads to all corners of the room.
Other stands, they now saw, contained groups of girls like themselves.
Some were black girls. The very next stand was occupied by three tall,
leggy, black girls, looking like models, or dancers, dressed in simple
white shifts like their own, but so tall that their legs were clearly
displayed.

Over to the left were a number of stands crowded with boys. There were
little black boys, taller white ones, powerful youths with golden
bodies oiled and rippling with well-formed muscles. Carolyn strained
across the open space to see if she could spot Piers. There were one
or two stands with European boys of about the right age, but she
couldn't see her brother anywhere. The boy stands were thronged with
eager spectators, pointing, apparently selecting the choicest morsels.

The girls were now fully aware, even if they had not admitted it to
themselves before, this was a market, a sale. Every one of the young
human beings in this huge room was going to be *sold*, and would then
become the property of another human being - older, immensely richer -
who could then do as he wished with them. Carolyn shuddered, and tried
to shut it out of her mind by searching for Piers again. Candi glanced
at her, knowing what was going through her friend's mind. To think, it
had only been a few days since she had been trying to screw Piers on
the beach. It was a lifetime away, and certainly gone for ever.

There was some sort of disturbance behind them, and the girls turned
to see what was going on. The heavy curtain was half pulled aside, and
the man who had driven them here was in animated conversation with a
hugely-corpulent man in a cream linen suit. Sweat trickled down his
cheeks to leave unsightly damp splotches on his shoulders. He was
shouting something at the girls' captor.

Carolyn experienced a brief thrill of relief. They had been rescued!
This fat man in the cream suit - he looked like a fat policeman, a
very high-up policeman - whoever he was, had come to take them away.
It had all been a ghastly mistake. They should not have been captured,
it should have been someone else. Their parents had complained to the
British Embassy. There had been Questions in the House. The ambassador
had arranged their rescue, and they would all be together again, back
home ...

The fat man had stepped on to the girls' stage, and the powerful
matron made them turn to face him, away from the rest of the room. He
moved slowly along the line. He was making his choice! Taking his
pick. This was crazy!

He stopped, glistening with sweat, in front of Kitty, and said
something to the man. The reaction was instant and went on for several
minutes. He seemed convinced, sighed, and touched Candi on the
shoulder. Again, the same reaction. Fat Man was getting angry. He
rounded on the Arab and started a harangue, accompanied by a lot of
finger wagging. Half-way through, he seemed to lose patience
altogether and made as if to storm out through the curtain.

The girls' captor grabbed him by the cream linen sleeve and dragged
him back. He was holding up two fingers, and waving toward the bemused
girls. Fat Man gave a sweaty little smile, and turned back. This time,
he walked slowly along the line, then took Frida by the hand and
pulled her gently out of line. The matron put an arm round the little
Swedish girl's shoulders and led her to the curtain. The captor seemed
relieved. He had a grin on his face.

Fat Man grinned as well. He seemed ready to go, satisfied, running his
hands down Frida's white linen shrouded body, briefly raising the
bottom of the dress and giving an experimental tug to the little
padlock between her legs. Frida squeaked. Then his plump hands slid
upwards, squeezing the generous curves of her young breasts through
the soft material. Frida's cheeks reddened as her nipples immediately
became erect and thrusting against his fingers. Then he turned again,
abruptly, and faced the five remaining girls. Without a word or a
glance to either side, he stepped forward, reached out his fat, damp
hand, and grabbed Carolyn by the wrist.

The others were stunned into silence. Then Kitty burst out crying,
great sobs sending her huge udders bouncing all over the place as she
clung to the wailing Erica. Lucinda whimpered in panic and clung to
Candi. Candi hugged the younger girl against her, and all four of them
backed away across the stage as they tried to take in what had
happened.

Caro was gone. So was Frida. They had heard the cries of the two as
they were hustled away down the corridor the way they had come in.
What was going on?

Obviously, Fat Man was somebody important, literally a Mister Big. For
some reason, he had been allowed his choice of this group of girls.
Well, not his first choice, but he had evidently been allowed to take
any two girls other than Kitty or Candi. He had chosen Frida and Caro.
For all Candi knew, Fat Man might be going round the rest of the hall,
picking and choosing from the other stands as well. Whoever he was, he
might leave here with thirty or forty, a whole bus-load of women,
girls and boys of every shape, size and colour.

Candi's last sight of her friend was of her helpless, frightened face
looking over her shoulder as she was thrust through the curtain, Fat
Man's hand caressing her taut buttock. Just before the curtain swung
closed behind them, the girls' captor handed Fat Man two tiny silver
keys.


**********

They walked quickly, the powerful matron hustling them down the
corridor, through several doorways and out into the blinding, stinking
sunlight. One or two faces looked at them curiously as they walked
straight to a black Range Rover, bristling with radio antennas. The
matron thrust the girls into the back seat, and gave them a scared
little smile as she closed the door. Then she scuttled back indoors as
Fat Man swung his bulk into the passenger seat, and another man
appeared from across the street, opened the driver's door, climbed in
without a word, and started the engine.

The Range Rover throbbed and purred out of the main square, out of the
shanty town, up the hill and round a couple of bends, leaving the
incredible scene behind as if it had never existed. In twenty minutes,
they reached the main tarmac road, and the driver turned left. Fat Man
spoke for the first time, saying something in a conversational, yet
authoritative, tone to the driver, who picked up a microphone handset
and spoke a few words. The radio burst into life immediately with a
curt, efficient-sounding reply, and silence fell again as they roared
Westward.


**********

The senior matron roused the four girls from their depressing thoughts
as she pushed and pulled them into a line at the back of the stand,
facing out into the hall. "Stand there, stand still!" she hissed at
them, even sounding a little nervous herself.

Then she threw a switch, and two powerful spotlights came on, blinding
the girls for a moment. At least, facing the lights, they were spared
the view of the eager faces pressing forward for a better view, all
staring eyes and wet, slobbering lips. The noise built up, and with it
the tension. Their captor was about to speak. He stood to one side,
obviously talking about the girls, describing them in great detail.
The audience listened good-naturedly, making little ritual noises from
time to time, cat-calls, cheers and gasps. It was all a well-known
game that had to be played out according to the rules before the real
business of the day.

Finally, the man turned to the line of girls. He pointed, and the
senior matron, standing next to Erica, pushed her forward, gently but
firmly, into the brilliantly-lit circle of the spotlights. A sigh rose
from the crowd. The man launched into an animated description of the
girl, who stood with the lights blazing down on her, the outline of
the curves of her body showing tantalisingly through the soft material
of her dress ...

Her dress, which the matron swiftly unhooked at the back, started to
slide down off Erica's shoulders. She gripped her arms to her sides to
stop it falling, and succeeded for a moment, although not in time to
prevent the plump upper slopes of her breasts coming into view. "Let
it go!" whispered the senior matron fiercely, and Erica raised her
elbows from her sides, then lowered her arms, allowing the dress to
fall to her feet. Her golden skin and her blonde hair glowed in the
lights.

The matron was like a magician's assistant. She twirled Erica round so
that her back was to the audience, bending her over from the waist and
swiftly parting her thighs to reveal her generously-fleshed pussy
lips. She turned her sideways, to let the crowd see the girl's breasts
dangle downwards. Finally, she spun her round so she faced the front
again, legs apart, knees bent, to reveal her silver padlock. The
dealer became lyrical, raising a laugh with a comment about her being
a natural blonde.

The matron almost gave a bow, holding out a hand to the audience and
bestowing a cheesy smile on the rows of lust-filled faces. 

Suddenly, the tempo changed. The languid descriptive talk was replaced
by an urgent rapping. Voices called out from the crowd. The man was
pointing at different faces in front of him, repeating numbers
urgently. The bidding went briskly, obviously pleasing the auctioneer,
whose voice was becoming falsetto in his excitement. The bids reached
a climax; there were only two bidders now, and one, a man in a pale
blue suit was obviously the top dog. He drove the bidding on until the
auctioneer clapped his hands and pointed to Blue Suit, who smiled
quietly to himself and made a mark on his notebook.

The senior matron told Erica to pick up her dress, then she led her
away, handing her over to a matron on the other side of the curtain.
She then turned, and touched Candi on the shoulder.

Despite herself, Candi felt aroused. The excitement of seeing Erica
sold had made her quickly become wet! Now, knowing it was to happen to
her, she became more excited still. She wanted to touch herself, here,
in the spotlights, before all these people. Her sexual excitement
communicated itself to the crowd long before the matron unhooked the
dress, which slithered down, revealing her lush breasts. Glancing
down, she saw her nipples were bigger than she'd ever seen them in her
life.

The crowd gasped aloud. This time it wasn't part of their elaborate
game, it was lust and arousal she heard in their voices. She stepped
out of the dress as it pooled at her feet, and stood with one knee
slightly turned outward, revealing her inner thighs, with a trickle of
moisture gleaming in the lights. A howl went up, and the auctioneer
glanced at Candi in panic to see what was driving the crowd wild. As
soon as he saw the reason, he made a joke, bringing a huge belly
laugh, and the bidding started instantly.

Candi tried to keep track of the bids, but it was too fast for her.
She only knew that Blue Suit wasn't taking part. He wasn't even taking
any interest. She wet her lips and smiled nervously, running a hand
across the generous, quivering roll of flesh round her waist, and was
rewarded by a growl of lust from the buyers. The bids doubled in pace,
building to a climax again, then Blue Suit raised his notebook and was
acknowledged. So, thought, Candi, he *is* bidding after all. She gave
him a private smile, and took a deep breath, thrusting her breasts out
hugely.

The bidders were down to two, Blue Suit and his rival from Erica's
sale, and again, it was Blue Suit who received the triumphant clap
from the auctioneer. At least, Candi thought, I've been bought by the
same man who got Erica. She winked at Cinders as she went through the
curtain, and the kid gave her a brave little smile.

It was impossible to tell what was happening on the stage from behind
the heavy curtain, but they could hear the auctioneer's rapid chatter,
then a hiss of indrawn breath, presumably as Cinders dropped her dress
and the crowd saw the busty little ten-year-old naked before them.
Candi tried to imagine the show going on out on the stage: the hiss of
indrawn breath as the buyers saw Cinders's little bottom, the animal
howl as they were treated to the sight of her magnificently hanging
young breasts in full profile. Seconds later, Cinders was thrust
through the curtain, shocked and sobbing, and the matron gently
ushered her forward into Candi's arms.

They listened again, as the noise built to a shrieking crescendo out
on the stage. They could hardly hear the auctioneer, then a mighty
roar swelled out, which must have been from every voice in the huge
room. Obviously Kitty was naked. Candi managed to peer through the
curtain, in time to catch a glimpse of Kitty bending over in profile,
bringing a bellow from hundreds of throats at the sight of the
youngster's tits bouncing against her knees!

The bidding started, and there was a gasp at the first bid. This time
there was no quickfire bidding from every Tom, Dick and Abdul in the
crowd. This time, only the big boys could play. A tense ten minutes
later, the curtain opened, and a radiant Kitty came through, her
nipples enormously erect. She had obviously become as excited as
Candi.

Seconds later, a door opened, and Blue Suit was standing there. "Come
on, girls", he said softly in English, "let's get you out of this
hell-hole and get a meal inside you!"

Candi, Lucinda, Erica and Kitty hugged each other. They had no idea
what had happened to Carolyn and Frida, perhaps they would never ever
see them again, but at least *they* were still together.





Chapter 9:- Hassan's Story - Part Three 

You will remember that I was captured and brought to a man who
inspected us boys and formed us into groups. Our group was taken to a
house in the town, where we were seen by a man in a white coat. I now
know of him as a doctor, famed throughout the land.

Then, though, he was just a man in a white coat. He raised my little
apron and looked at me, his eyebrows raised. I know he said something,
but at the time I knew little Arabic, and I understood nothing of what
he spoke to me. However, when I was taken into a chamber and laid down
on a bench, I began to understand much more.

On a side table was an array of brightly shining instruments, weird
shaped dishes, strange apparatus, sharp knives. The knives I
understood. I struggled, but a huge fat man took both my wrists in one
hand and held them down to the bench. My feet were held and my legs
pulled apart, then leather straps bound me to the bench so I was
unable to move.

Another man in a white coat, not the physician, approached me, and
spoke to me in a kind voice. Then he raised my tool in one hand, and
cupped the balls with the other, feeling them and nodding, while
saying something to an assistant who was out of my view. I think, now,
he was saying I had big balls, big enough for me to become a virile
widow-fucker.

Before I knew what was happening, the assistant stepped forward and
seized my tool, yanking it upwards. What was going on?

I found out soon enough. Not what was going on, but what was coming
off!

The doctor took my balls in one hand, lifting and stretching the sac.
I felt sick with the pain. But when I saw the knife in his other hand,
I forgot the pain. And just like that, zzzzzip! He sliced them off,
clean as a whistle, as you say. The pain was indescribable. It was
like burning. Mercifully, I passed out.

When I awoke, it was some time later, the doctor was bending over me
and I was in a bed, a proper bed, with sheets. The doctor removed the
dressings around my tool. It sure looked strange. Not only had he cut
my balls off, he had cut off the foreskin as well. It made my cock
look twice as big as before. Anyway, the doctor seemed pleased with
his work. He rubbed his hand through my hair and laughed, before
leaving me to go back to sleep again.


**********

Later, I was to discover the fate of the three separate groups of
boys. Those who were selected for the size and quality of their
equipment were sent off to market and never seen again by us. There
would be no shortage of buyers for such boys: some kinky Pasha would
buy them as an adornment for his harem, or some permanently-randy rich
widow who needed an ever-ready cock to service her night and day. It
makes me feel faint just to think of it.

I was in the second group. We all had big tools, some long, some
thick, some long as well as thick. And yet, when inspected by the
dealer, our balls had been found to be not up to standard. I don't
know how he judged them. The famous doctor told me, years afterwards,
that my balls had looked just fine to him, but orders are orders.

So, cut down to size, I became a no-ball, and was sold to my master,
the Pasha, for a lifetime of service. But let me explain something.
Despite having no balls, I can still become aroused in the presence of
a female, and get an erection. I do, I do!

We half-castrati can service a woman for hours, without the
considerable inconvenience of ejaculation! Needless to say, this can
make us highly popular. But enough of our problems, what of the third
group of boys?

They lost everything. Depending upon whether they were castrated
before or after reaching puberty, they would have different
characteristics and different uses. Those who were castrated before
puberty became plump, beautiful, girlish creatures. They might even
develop little breasts. But they weren't very strong, which was a
drawback sometimes. Also, the operation to emasculate them before
puberty was dangerous and risky. Many of the young patients did not
survive the shock.

Those who had all their equipment removed *after* reaching puberty
were a different matter. These, we call 'clean-shaven'. They have more
body strength, which makes them far more useful for physical duties
about the harem. They can serve in the intimate proximity of the harem
females.  Some jealous Pashas use only 'clean shaven' boys, denying
their female slaves any opportunity for infidelity with 'half cut'
eunuchs.

There was another, very rare, group of eunuchs. I have only ever seen
a couple of them. They had their penis removed, cut off short, but
their balls were left intact. They were a special breed.  Very strong,
very horny, but with no way to satisfy their urges. They lived in the
middle of a herd of naked females, and their minds were always ready
for action. All they lacked was the tool to do the job.
Understandably, they were the meanest creatures in any harem: angry,
sadistic and cruel. They blamed all females for their torments; the
lust of their brains and the inability of their bodies to fulfill
their fantasies. If a Pasha had any particularly dirty business to
carry out, they were the ones who did it.


**********

Our little caravan arrived at the provincial capital after an
uneventful week-long voyage. We were taken directly to the Pasha's
palace. I was escorted down miles of corridors into a huge room, hung
with tapestries covered in rude pictures. A huge black man was sitting
on a low divan. He was vast. I never saw a man so enormous in my life.
The little eyes in his fat face looked sharp but somehow tired. The
dealer addressed the man in a respectful voice:

"Kizlar Agha, I am bringing you a new eunuch."

The dealer whispered into my ear:

"This is the highest eunuch in the harem, your new master. Kneel and
kiss his robe!"

I was scared. The black mountain of flesh generated great respect in
me. I bowed my head and kissed the end of the heavy garment. Kizlar
Agha smiled:

"He is well educated and obedient. Now show me his treasure, or what
is left of it."

"Yes master", said the dealer "I will introduce him in his full
splendour."

He pulled my shirt down and I was nude again. The huge eunuch looked
me with an obvious interest and then said:

"Come closer, my boy. I won't hurt you. As you can see, I am too large
to get up without help, so let me touch you."

Suddenly I lost all my shyness and approached the eunuch. I stood
really close to him, almost touching his knees. He started to feel me
all over and soon he reached my mutilated organ. He held it in one
hand and explored the spot below where the stones would normally be.
He found nothing. Fully satisfied, he said:

"He is fixed really properly.  Sometimes one ball escapes the knife
and then we must operate again. But what is left is an excellent
instrument. With a pole like that between his legs he will be the
favourite toy of the harem concubines"

Suddenly the door opened and to my horror a woman entered the room.
She was a mature female wearing traditional Turkish dress. I was
ashamed of my nudity and yet my penis reacted to her presence with a
noticeable erection. Kizlar Agha and the dealer started to laugh while
the woman's eyes gleamed at the sight of my black rod. Still holding
my meat, Kizlar Agha introduced me to her:

"Hassan, this is Fatima, the head matron of our harem. She will take
you and train you for your harem duties." To Fatima, he said, "make
sure that he learns all the rules, Fatima. You know, I think you like
him already."

Fatima smiled and said in an excited voice, "Thank you my lord. You
know that I need a new eunuch to become my assistant."

Then she turned to me and said, "Let's go, boy. Your education will
start today."

She took my hand and tried to lead me out of the room. I grabbed for
my shirt but Fatima said nonchalantly, "No! Leave it here. I will give
you some fine new clothes. Hurry up now, let's go!"

I was already going out of the door when I heard a hearty laugh from
the chief eunuch. Fatima led me completely naked through the main
corridor of the harem. My tail was fully erected and the concubines
flocked to see the new addition to the eunuch group. The females were
of all different races, ages and physical proportions. Some were quite
clearly pregnant, flaunting their huge, swollen bellies without shame.
Many had hugely fat feminine equipment hanging between their thighs.
They were all completely hairless between their legs. They were all
large, and corpulent. And they all had huge breasts. 

A couple of the very young girls giggled and blushed when they saw my
nudity. The older concubines came very close to me and tried to grab
my dangling cock. Well, not quite dangling.

Fatima said, "Don't you bother him, you lecherous hussies. He is my
new assistant and he will spank you as soon as he's finished his
training."

But the fat women didn't care. They pawed me all over and one of them
even opened my buttocks trying to stick her finger in the opening. She
didn't succeed but she gave me a hearty slap on the ass. She yelled
something in a strange language. It had to be something obscene
because she licked her lips lewdly and the other females broke into a
crazy laugh.

Finally we arrived at the room which was going to be my new home.
Fatima took me in and showed me all my beautiful new clothes. She told
me to relax after the long journey.

"I will lock you in tonight. These women wouldn't give you a minute's
peace. Sleep well, tomorrow is you first big day in the harem."

Fatima was leaving but even she couldn't resist. She came closer to me
and took my still half-erect penis in her hand.

"You are really perfectly endowed Hassan", she said, softly. "I think
I will use you sometimes for my personal fun. Such a fat tail is not
common in our harem."

I was fully hard again and Fatima kneeled and took my cock into her
mouth. She sucked so expertly that if I had been a man I would soon
have shot my juices down her throat. Suddenly she stopped.

"Go, sleep! We will spend lot of time together. Next time I will show
you another opening you will stick your rod in. Much better then my
mouth. Quickly! Go to bed now."

Fatima left and I heard the key turn in the lock. I slept like a log,
although quite a few times I heard somebody trying to get into my
bedroom.


**********

Too much nostalgia is not good for me. Let us return to the present.

Our harem had a representative at most auction sales. His task did not
concern girls, although he would certainly look around to see if there
was anything special on view. Omar's duty was to purchase boys.
Accompanied by an assistant matron, he would wander round the
saleroom, quietly making notes of desirable boys.

Once he found something - and often, he would only be in the market
for one or two - he would step in and make an offer. Coming from our
respected and well-heeled Pasha, the offer was rarely refused. All the
more reason for Omar to be a true expert in his job.

The group which attracted Omar's attention consisted of half a dozen
European boys aged ten to fourteen. On this occasion, he had been
briefed by the harem physician to find a suitable boy for a number of
experiments to be carried out at the orders of the Pasha. For reasons
he was not told, the boy had to be in the early stages of puberty,
blond and European. He also had to be complete in his equipment. For
obvious reasons, once he arrived at the harem, he would have to be
locked away under conditions of absolute security.

He approached a likely-looking stand, prepared to wait while the
transaction already in progress came to its conclusion. Two huge Arab
ladies were buying themselves a boy!

Omar smiled to himself as he studied the two women. The older one was
going to be the new owner. She was in her mid- fifties. Her friend was
perhaps 10 years younger: plump and well-endowed, she wore the
traditional dress of Middle East women. A long black garment covered
her from neck to toe, and of course, her face was covered with a black
veil. The older widow was dressed a bit differently. She also wore a
long black garment, but hers had a wide, long decolletage, an opening
down almost to the navel. For a woman of her age, it was acceptable,
although for her friend it would not yet be.

Omar listened with detached interest as they discussed their purchase
excitedly ...

"He's got a lovely face, hasn't he?"

"I hadn't really noticed his face. Look at the cock on him!"

"I'm looking, I'm looking! It's not too thick for comfort, but it's
long enough. Unusual for a white boy. You don't want a short one, not
with all your flab."

"You put it so delicately. But yes, a long one, medium thick, should
fill my needs quite nicely. I haven't had my needs filled for a year,
since young Nasim went to the great oasis in the sky."

"Well, at least he died with a smile on his face!"

"You have decided, ladies?" The salesman had been watching them, ready
to close the sale.

"Yes, I think that one there."

"An excellent choice, madam. Fourteen. German. He will give you years
of ... of service. He'll see you out, anyway", he murmured under his
breath.

"Is he in good working order? Is he complete?"

"You want a test drive? I can demonstrate him here, but you can't try
him out at home." The German boy was gazing about the hall, staring at
the display of nubile female flesh all around him. His attention was
on a broad-hipped, pointy-breasted little minx three stands away. The
salesman coughed to catch the boy's attention, and he glanced down,
his jaw dropping open in amazement at his first sight of his future
owner.

With her wide open garment, and no underwear, everybody - and
especially the poor slave boy up on the stage - could see her
enormous, swollen breasts jiggling and swaying with every movement.
The wide opening left nothing to his imagination. Now, she stepped
forward to get a closer look at the boy, making sure she bent forward
so he could see even more of the masses of plump flesh.

The salesman grasped the boy's heavy prong, no longer dangling now
that he had caught sight of the widow's mammoth breasts. She reached
out and took a handful of the boy's hanging sack while the slaver held
his cock up. The widow first weighed the balls and then gently but
firmly kneaded the content of the sac between her fingers. It was
obvious that she wasn't buying a slave boy for the first time.

"Nice big stones", she said to her friend. "I like this kind of family
jewels. Heavy too. They will slap me when I make him to do all the
work. I love that feeling."

To the slaver she said, "he's not circumcised, yet?"

"Not yet, my mistress, his foreskin ends in the middle of his glans
and that's probably because he played with himself a lot. We call it a
natural circumcision. We have quite few of these here. If you like, I
have an experienced circumcistrice here and she will be able to cut
him just as you wish. Medium or short or very short and tight with the
frenulum removed. No extra charge, of course!"

"No, I think I take him as he is. Let's see his tool." The widow took
the erect penis and pulled the foreskin way back. When it would go no
further, she closely inspected the purple swollen glans, turning it
and looking at it from all different sides. She touched the tight
frenulum then took the appendage in her other hand and slowly moved
the foreskin back and forth. It took only three or four strokes before
the boy gave a series of gutteral German grunts and spurted a large
shot of cum right in the woman's cleavage. Some also sprinkled on the
other woman.

Both women laughed but the slaver was very apologetic. He handed them
a small towel. "Ooops! Sorry, did he splash you? That's the trouble
with these young ones, they're so *potent*! I told you he would give
good service!"

"Don't worry", she said, "I'm very glad he showed us his potential. I
am definitely buying him. He will be an excellent companion for my
long days and longer nights. Forty-eight thousand, you said?" She
reached for her purse.

"Congratulations, Madam, you are now the proud owner of Hans-Dieter.
You can call him Hardy for short. But he won't be short very long.
He'll be ready again long before you get him home. Aaah! American
Express. That'll do nicely!"


**********

As far as Omar was concerned, the need for the boy to have all his
equipment certainly narrowed the search down quite a lot. Most of the
boys on sale were modified in some way. Only this select group of half
a dozen met his requirements. And that one THERE met them exactly!

"Yes, sire, English. Complete, of course! All my boys are complete and
entire. Blond, could be worth ... ooh ... twenty thousand more than
the dark one over there? Yes, shaven, but see the moustache above the
cock? Natural blond!"

"How old is he?" Omar affected ignorance.

"Ten, sire. Ten years old, I swear it."

"Hmmm. I don't know. He looks older somehow. May my assistant inspect
his rear end?"

"Be my guest."

The assistant matron was already on the case. She stepped up behind
the bewildered boy on the stand, his little apron level with her face,
spun him round and parted his ass cheeks with her plump fingers.
Ignoring the boy's cry of outrage, ('gerroff, yer fat fucking cow')
she probed his anus, even inserting a finger before he could protest
further. Then she grasped his balls, weighing them expertly in her
hands. Finally, before he could protest further, she yanked his
foreskin right back, revealing the head of his cock. The boy's eyes
watered.

A quick nod of her head was enough for Omar. He and his assistant knew
each other's working methods.

"Right! This one it is. Forty thousand, cash." He quickly counted the
crisp notes from a roll in his hand, then glanced up at the dealer,
who was torn between greed and acceptance, sweating and shaking his
head, his eyes popping out at the sight of the money. Omar held out
his hand. "And he's twelve, by the way, but I'll still give you
forty!"

The dealer took it. The matron went to the rear curtain of the stand,
and led Piers away to the stretch limo parked in the main square.





Chapter 10:- Sold!

The Range Rover had turned off onto a major highway. It was still only
a single lane, with graded strips at each side, but it was smoother
and better maintained than the road by which they had travelled from
the coast a couple of days earlier.

There was a brief burst of noise from the radio, and a terse message,
acknowledged by the driver, then Fat Man turned and spoke for the
first time to the girls in the back seat. Carolyn was looking out of
the window, and turned, startled, as Fat Man spoke to her. Frida was
asleep, her head on Carolyn's shoulder.

"We are almost there. Soon you will have food, and proper rest. After
that, you will start your ... duties!" His face took on an unpleasant
leer. Caro wanted to throw up. He turned to the driver, speaking in
English for Caro's benefit. "Mansoor! We go straight to the house. You
will return to headquarters, and I will see you in the morning. Don't
be late."

Mansoor nodded, and spun the wheel to take the Range Rover up a steep
but well-surfaced roadway, which led to a house surrounded by trees.
It stopped in a shady courtyard, and Fat Man got out without a word
and disappeared inside. Mansoor opened the back door, helping Carolyn
down to the dusty ground, littered with little stones that pricked her
bare feet. The drowsy Frida climbed out, and Mansoor held her shoulder
as she almost stumbled.

He smiled at them, the first genuinely kind look they'd seen since the
start of their nightmare. "See you soon, take care. Look, here comes
Hoda, and Emily. I go now."

He stepped back into the driver's seat and the car whirled away in a
flurry of dust. An Arab woman and a white girl had emerged from the
house. They smiled anxiously at the two young girls in their white
auction dresses. The white girl spoke. "Hello, I'm Emily, do either of
you speak English?" She had an accent which Caro couldn't quite place.
She nodded eagerly.

"I'm Carolyn Lashmore, I'm English, this is Frida, from Sweden. Where
are we? Are we going to be rescued?"

The girl laughed, then looked round nervously. "Rescued? Don't ask!"
Caro realised where the girl was from now, she was from North Eastern
England.

"Our friends are still at the ... I don't know where or what it was,
but my sister, and my friend, and two more Swedish girls, they're all
there. I think they're going to be sold!" it still sounded horrific to
her ears, but Emily nodded matter-of-factly.

"Yes, probably. We might find out where they've gone later. But not
yet. Howay, come wi' us, let's get you some food."

They followed Emily and the silent Arab woman into the cool of the
house, echoing with tiled floors and high ceilings. Brightly coloured
drapes hung on the walls. Emily was a pretty brunette, about five feet
six. She wore simple Western clothing, a long dress in pale yellow,
which clung to the slight curves of her slender body. Her breasts were
small and pointed. She seemed to be about sixteen.

They turned into a room with a sunken bath, fed by a rippling
fountain. The cool air was almost icy after the heat outside. Three
more young girls, two black and one Asian, were sitting with their
toes in the fountain. They got up nervously as Emily and the girls
approached. The Asian girl was tiny and very slim, probably no more
than seven or eight. The black girls were older, about ten or eleven,
and could have been twin sisters, except that one of them had much
larger breasts than the other. *Considerably* larger! Large enough to
make Caro look twice, thinking she had been mistaken.

She hadn't!

Emily clapped her hands and the young girls fled, the vast-busted one
holding herself together with both hands. "I'll look after these two,
Hoda, if you can lay on some food, okay?" Emily seemed to have a
position of authority, or at least, of trust. Hoda went away, and
Emily led the pair to the edge of the water. "Here y'are, dunk your
feet in there and cool off. Hoda'll bring some lemonade in a minute."

Frida had still said nothing since their arrival, but she sat down on
the steps of the bath, and lowered her little white feet into the
bubbling water. Soon, she looked up at Caro and grinned. "It tickles",
she said.

"As soon as you've fed, we'll find you some clothes. You can't walk
around like that all the time. We've got plenty of dresses your size,
and Frida's, if we can find one a bit bigger up top. Oh, sorry! You'll
be wantin' a loo, after yer journey. Howay, I'll take yer!"

Gratefully, they followed Emily to a Western-style bathroom and toilet
suite, where the English girl told Frida to take her dress off. "Oh,
no, you've still got those bloody things on, did Mansoor get the keys
this time, I wonder?" she snapped her fingers in frustration. "Soddin'
heathens! Here, I'll find the keys and get you out of there, run
yersel's a bath, I'll be right back!" And she turned on both of the
big brass taps and disappeared.


**********

Blue Suit walked briskly out into the sunshine, and the girls followed
like sheep. He didn't need to look over his shoulder, he knew they
would be following. They had put their white dresses on again, but
felt as naked as they had been on the auction stage. Crowds of men and
women had come out of the auction hall as soon as their particular
part of the sale was over, and all of them wanted to stare at the
girls Blue Suit had just paid for.

Open-mouthed, the onlookers formed a narrow passageway through which
Blue Suit strode, like the parting of the waters, looking neither to
left nor right, and Candi led the others through after him. Kitty was
close behind her, or as close as she could be, given the forward
projection of her mammoth tits. Cinders followed Kitty, eyes on the
ground, Erica brought up the rear, looking defiantly about her.

A second man followed Erica at a discreet distance, wearing wraparound
sunglasses and a white shirt with epaulettes and four gold bars. He
carried a fat briefcase.

The crowd thinned out, although a few men, thirty or forty of them,
continued to jog along beside the little party, trying to keep an eye
on Kitty, who was trying her hardest not to laugh at their antics.
Candi walked proudly, her head high, her wide hips swaying and her
breasts thrust forward. At last, they came to a wire fence with a
gate, through which Blue Suit went, the others following, and the
baying crowd came to a halt, peering over the wire like curious
cattle.

There was nothing in front of them now but a level piece of ground
occupied by two helicopters. They headed toward a large, pale blue
one, and stopped by the front door. The second man arrived, produced a
key and opened the door, then climbed aboard. Blue Suit followed, then
held his hand out to help the girls climb in, one by one.

They twittered with excitement, straining to see out of the windows as
Blue Suit showed them how to fasten their safety harnesses. Candi's
needed some adjustment, and Kitty gave up completely until Blue Suit,
laughing, helped her fit the belt down between her breasts, and asked
her to lift her breasts up out of her lap so that he could fasten the
complicated buckle.

The pilot had closed the door, and a low growl came from above their
heads as the engine started, then the machine began to rock from side
to side as the shadow of the rotors began to flicker past the windows.
The noise rose in pitch and volume, and Blue Suit nodded to them and
made his way forward to where they could see the back of the pilot's
head as he looked out in all directions. No sooner had Blue Suit sat
down and fastened his belt than the helicopter gave a final shudder,
the noise became deafening, and the ground fell away beneath them.

None of the four passengers had a very good view of the ground, until
the machine lurched and tilted forward, then leaned over as it
accelerated, the shadows wheeling dizzily as they chased the sunlight
around inside the cabin, and the ground appeared beneath the windows.
There was the whole of the shanty town spread out beneath them, the
faces of Kitty's admirers gazing upwards, until the whole thing
diminished in size, and dropped out of sight as the aircraft
straightened up.


**********

It was evening. The murmur of the insects faded and the light quickly
dimmed outside as Carolyn and Frida finished their meal, an exotic
blend of meat, rice, vegetables, and spices. They were sitting by the
fountain eating succulent pears when Carolyn again tried asking Emily
where they were.

"It would be no good trying to explain where we are. I don't know for
sure, anyway. But the house belongs to Zulfiqar Malik, the Chief of
Police." Emily laughed bitterly as Caro opened her mouth in horror.
"He's not like a British policeman. He's bent as a shepherd's crook,
this one. You are here ... *we* are here in payment. He allows the
slave trade to go on in this region, he turns a blind eye, in return
for certain favours. That's us!"

"You mean, we're given to him, to the Chief of Police, to hush him
up?"

"The cost seems to be one girl for each auction, although the price
may have gone up, since there's two of you. He's got eleven girls
here, including us three. There are Lim, Tigger and Toots, the three
kids you saw earlier. Toots is the one with the tits. He prefers young
ones. I'm sixteen and I'm the oldest by a long way. How about you?"

"I'm thirteen. Frida's twelve."

"You're above the average age, then. The other five are in his
sleeping quarters, you'll meet them later. He likes his girls at least
four at a time! Safety in numbers, though, I suppose. With you being
new, you can probably expect the call tonight, along with the other
three. I'm free until the weekend." Emily saw Caro's expression of
dread. "Hey, don't worry, pet, he won't hurt you, he's shit-scared of
us! You may need to bend over for him, but he's not that big, you'll
soon get used to it. What's so special about virginity, any road, eh?"

Caro didn't know the answer to that.

"Look, pet, I've got to go. Big-H will take care of you when Zed calls
for you. See you tomorrow, okay? Night-night!" She bent and kissed
Frida, then Caro, on the mouth, and Caro's eyes opened wide as the
girl's tongue quickly darted between her lips. It felt sluttish,
thrilling, yet somehow comforting. The girl hurried away.

Big-H, Hoda, the Arab woman, arrived ten minutes later. "Come. You
come now!" she said, the first words they had heard her speak. They
followed her with a deepening sense of dread.


**********

The flight must have been more than an hour. Long before that time,
the girls had had enough of flying. They were deafened, their bottoms
were numb, their ears kept popping. When the engine note suddenly
changed and the machine heeled over, they were too bored even to look
out of the window. As a result, they missed the imposing aerial view
of Blue Suit's residence. Only when the helicopter thumped down on to
the ground and the rotor slowed to a windmilling whirr did they look
out.

Candi found the release to her belt, and stood up, stretching her
legs. She released the others as the engine noise died completely,
leaving their ears ringing in the silence. Blue Suit made his way down
from the cockpit, removing a headset and hanging it on a hook. He
grinned at them.

"Sorry about the noise, girls, it's all part of the glamour of
aviation. Come on, let's get out of here and you can feed your
beautiful faces." The pilot opened the door, and helped them down on
wobbly legs to the ground, their knees still tingling as they hopped
from foot to bare foot on the scorching tarmac. Blue Suit wasn't
hanging around in the sun. He led the way with his brisk walk into the
deep shade of a stone walled house. It appeared to be on the edge of a
small town, which spread itself out beneath them in a clutter of white
single-storey buildings and flat roofs. A single round tower stood
clear above the rest of the buildings over to the right.

There was hardly a sound from the town up here. They stepped through
an archway into a walled garden. "Our water comes from our own
bore-hole", explained Blue Suit as he led the way through the lush
greenery of the garden. We could supply the whole town, but we don't.
Here!" and he chivvied them through a door into the house.

"You're our only guests this week, but you are a bit special, so you
will have every convenience you could wish for. You will be here a few
days, then we will take you to see your probable new home. I am
certain our favourite Pasha will form an instant bond with you. You
are his type of girl! Meanwhile, you will eat well and freely. The
Pasha will not object if you are a little overweight!"

He clapped three times and magically, a group of servants appeared.
Blue Suit rapped out a series of orders in Arabic, and all but one of
the servants disappeared. The other, a hugely fat young man in
loose-fitting pants and no shirt, made himself busy with cushions
which he gathered up in his arms and arranged in a circle around a
pool in the centre of the house. Above the pool there was a hole in
the roof, and the tops of the trees outside cast a cool, blue shade
regardless of the sun might be.

The four girls, gazing about them in wonder, sat on the cushions when
Blue Suit told them, as two small black boys came in with a pile of
clothes which they handed, without a word, to each of the girls. There
were long, loose pants and baggy-sleeved tops, with no fastenings at
the front, like loose casual jackets without buttons.

There were sandals, too, all the right size. Even more amazingly, the
clothes were the right sizes. They quickly threw off their white linen
shifts, parading naked around the pool while they tried on their new,
flimsy finery. Even Lucinda forgot her shyness as she slipped her legs
into the silky pants. The two boys and the fat man with no shirt
watched impassively, showing no more than passing interest even when
Kitty stood up and pulled her pants on, her breasts flopping down past
her knees as she bent over.

Finally, they were all fully clothed, and they agreed, as they looked
at each other, they had never seen anything so sexy in their short
lives. "I could quite easily get used to this", said Candi, as they
lounged by the pool, dipping into a huge basket of fruit. Then she
became quiet for a moment. "I wonder where Caro is!"


<end of Part III>


Parts I and II were posted in alt.sex.stories at weekly intervals
before this episode.
They are also available from ftp.netcom.com /pub/ac/acotto/stories
Alternatively, contact gspot@online.nildram.co.uk