Caught up in the moment of "sampling" Miguel, Matt lets down his guard and Anwar springs his trap!
Duped - Part 5: The Kasbah (Page 2)
by Chrisus
Series: Duped
Art piece by Joji
I look at the slave, bent double before me with his ass prominently on show, and I think - who wouldn't like to use him. I wonder what affect -if any - Malik's offer to me is having on the slave. Obviously, he hears our conversation but he's not a part of it and so he remains silent. Is he offended by his Master's offer to let me use him? I suppose he is used to such things. Who knows, perhaps he has been given to Malik's guests on numerous occasions.
I recall, back in London, Anwar had told me that he sometimes "loans" Sven to his friends or business associates. I guess a slave's feelings are never considered at these times. Indeed, I remember Anwar had told me that he would consider it as ungracious and insulting for a guest in his home to not accept his generous offer of hospitality. Does that apply here, I wonder.
The thought of having sex with this beautiful slave is naturally very appealing. But I am loath to performing it so publicly before Malik and Anwar. Surely, they don't require that of me. Or do they?
Uncannily, Malik seems to be reading my mind and his next words put me at my ease.
"Matt, should you wish to use my slave, you can make use of one of my test-rooms. There you will have complete privacy and no one to watch you."
"I don't follow, Malik! What is a test-room?"
"Matt, should one of my more esteemed clients desire to try a slave before he buys him, I always allow it. For this reason, I have set up a number of private rooms where these buyers can take any slave who interests them and give him a test run."
"A test run, Malik?"
"But of course, Matt! My more influential buyers expect no less. They need to know the slave they buy is suitable to their needs. What is that quaint quote you Westerners often use? Ah yes, - 'never buy a pig in a poke'. These clients would never buy an untested slave. However, it's a courtesy I extend to just a few of my special clients and not to everyone. The other buyers must take their chances in the open marketplace. Again, I believe you have a legal ruling which places the responsibility on the buyer to ensure he buys correctly. You as a lawyer would know to what I am referring, Matt."
"Malik, I think what you are referring to is - 'caveat emptor - let the buyer beware!"
"That's precisely it, Matt! However, because you are an associate of my good friend, Anwar, I see you as an honoured guest in my household and I offer you the services of my slave. That is if you are up to it? What do you say Matt?"
The double entendre of Malik's words isn't lost on me; I interpret his words as a challenge and it's a challenge I am more than happy to accept. I mean, just looking at the slave's delectable, upturned ass has me fired up. My cock is as hard as it has ever been - and dribbling - and I can hardly contain myself. Spending time alone with the slave in a "test- room" has great appeal.
Still, I mustn't appear too eager as I accept Malik's generous offer of hospitality.
"Thank you Malik for your kind offer! It's most generous of you and it would be churlish of me to refuse. I gratefully accept!"
"Then I will have my slave take you to a test-room where you can use him at your leisure. Take your time Matt! Relax and enjoy the delights of the slave's body. And while you do that, Anwar and I will take refreshments and talk business. I believe we'll soon be joined by Mustapha and his son Hussein to check on their six slaves. We'll wait until you have finished using my slave and then we'll take you to the slave-pens where you can become better acquainted with the rest of my livestock."
I find Malik's description of his slaves as "livestock" a little disconcerting. True they are slaves; however, to hear him reduce them to the level of beasts and to be spoken of so contemptuously denies them any shred of humanity. How glad I am that I'm not a slave! And to emphasize his contempt, Malik slaps the slave's ass twice and orders him to stand at display.
"Slave, you will conduct my young guest to a test-room and there you will make your body available for his use. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
"Yes Master!' The slave replies in heavily accented English. "Your slave hears and obeys."
This is the first time the slave has spoken and I recognize his accent as Spanish.
"Then, let's be away with you! And make sure my guest has no complaints about you." Then Malik adds. "Oh, by the way Matt, please feel free to make full use of my slave. But I ask one thing of you."
"What is that, Malik?"
"Please make sure that he isn't damaged in any way. Please remember he is to be sold on Saturday and I don't want his body marked or bruised. I'm sure I can rely on your co- operation, Matt?"
"But of course, Malik! It goes without saying that I will respect your property and I'll not abuse him in any way."
"Then Matt, go with my slave to a test-room. He knows the way as he has been there several times in recent days with one or two of my clients. And when you have done with him, he'll bring you to Anwar and me. Please Matt, enjoy your time with my slave and I can assure you of a surprise."
"Thank you, Malik! You are a most gracious host."
The slave leads me through a door into a large, luxuriously appointed room. Its d£Äor is Middle- eastern - almost with a decadent air - and no expense has been spared in fitting it out. The floor is covered in a thick, plush carpet and placed randomly throughout the room are divans and armchairs grouped around exquisitely hand carved tables. At one end of the room is a raised platform with a catwalk leading away from it which runs almost full length down the middle of the room between the seats and tables. I am reminded of the models' catwalk used for fashion displays in the haute couture salons of Paris or Rome and I wonder about their purpose.
"Tell me slave! Do you have a name by which I can call you?"
"Sir, I am a slave. No one calls me by my name anymore. I answer to 'slave' or 'boy' - whichever you prefer, Sir."
"I would still like to know your name. What were you called before you became a slave?"
Sir! My name was Miguel, Sir!"
"Then tell me Miguel, what is the purpose of this room?"
"Why Sir, this is the display room where my Master exhibits his most highly prized slaves to his most esteemed clients."
Miguel's answer embarrasses me. The room's purpose should have been obvious to me.
"Miguel, have you been displayed in this room?"
"I have been in this room many times, Sir! And when I wasn't standing on the display podium, I served my Master and his guests their refreshments as they viewed other slaves who were being displayed."
"Tell me Miguel, how did you become a slave?"
"Sir, I was befriended by an Arab who betrayed me and I found myself brought here to be sold." There is bitterness in Miguel's words. "But my Master took a liking to me and he kept me. However, I am to be sold at Saturday's auction. Already, I have been inspected by several Masters who wish to own me."
Miguel's words sound a warning to me and suddenly, I am afraid. The distressing circumstances of his enslavement aren't unlike my own current situation. Like him, I have been befriended by an Arab - in my case by Anwar - and he's brought me to Maluchistan ostensibly on business. True, there are similarities between Miguel's situation and my own but I wasn't lured here; I came willingly on a business trip with Anwar. And he is my friend?
Still, Miguel's story does leave me with a feeling of disquiet.
Miguel directs me across the room and opens a door into a smaller, private room equally as luxurious as the display room. However, the furnishings are minimal and consist of a bed, a cupboard and bench obviously meant for clothing. The room opens into a small, ornately tiled, ensuite bathroom consisting of a shower, toilet and hand-basin.
Miguel closes the door behind us and we are alone in the test-room. Miguel asks respectfully for my instructions.
"Does Sir want me to undress him?"
I look at Miguel and I feel my lust rising like an impending volcanic eruption. But all I can manage to say in reply is a very gruff.
"YES!!"
Miguel moves over to stand just inches away from me. Slowly, he unbuttons my shirt and slips it from my upper body. I watch as he neatly folds it and places it on the bench. Then he kneels before me and removes my shoes and socks He reaches up and unbuckles my belt and removes it from its trouser lugs. He coils it and places it with my shoes. From his kneeling position, he looks up at me and as I gaze down on him, he averts his eyes almost guiltily. I attribute this to the sense of shame that he must be feeling at having to undress me and then surrender his body to me.
He stands and now my naked chest is touching his nakedness. The touch of his body is electric and my cock aches for urgent release. Deliberately, he unbuttons my slacks at the waistband and slowly - almost provocatively - he unzips my fly. I feel my trouser slide sensuously down my legs into a crumpled heap around my ankles. The slave kneels and lifts each of my feet freeing my trousers and I am left standing in just my boxer shorts.
As Miguel stands to fold my trousers and place them with my other clothing, I am acutely aware of the massive tent pole straining at the front of my one remaining item of clothing.
Once more the slave kneels before me and hooks a finger into the elastic- waistband of my boxer shorts on either side of my waist. Slowly, seductively, he slides them down over my hips until my rampant cock breaks free from its prison and I stand naked before him.
Miguel reaches out and cradles my balls in the cup of one hand while he uses the other to test the hardness and vigour of my erection. Very deliberately, he teases my glans until my legs tremble and my knees buckle ever so slightly. The slave is seducing me and I am helpless to resist his advances. I am putty in his hands.
He inclines his head and gently kisses the head of my cock and flicks his tongue against my piss-slit. He positions my cock in such a way that he is able to delicately run the moist, warm tip of his tongue up and down its sensitive underside. The myriad, penile nerve ends are rudely awakened and energized by his tongue-play.
This slave elevates me to levels of pleasure I've not known before and soon I hear my soft moaning as my body writhes under the exquisite, sexual torture which Miguel is inflicting upon me.
My need grows ever more urgent! I need to fuck this beguiling slave.
"Miguel," my voice is hoarse with my mounting passion, "I need to fuck you!"
"Certainly, Sir, I will make myself ready."
From somewhere - I don't know where and it's not important - Miguel produces an ornamental phial of lubricant. He stands before me and using a forefinger he scoops a glob of the gel, and reaching behind, he inserts the finger into his ass preparing it for my entry. Miguel turns even this simple, basic act into a display of highly-charged eroticism.
It seems to me that he is "riding" his finger; sensuously he alternates between slow gyrations of his hips and thrusting them forward in a most suggestive way. This brings into erotic play the rippling and flexing of his sharply, delineated abdominal muscles and his heavily veined cock proudly stands out at right-angles to his belly. He looks at me with "come hither" eyes and he uses the tip of his tongue to lick his lips lasciviously. His manner is highly seductive and obviously, he is taking his Master's words to heart and is working very hard to please me.
For my part, I stand slack-mouthed and watch as though I am entranced.
Eventually, Miguel stops and then prepares me by slicking my cock with the lubricant. He turns even this into an act of foreplay as he slowly massages my cock making it even harder - if that is possible. Then he asks.
"Sir, how do you wish to fuck me? Do you want me on my back? Or does Sir prefer me on all fours?"
For some reason, I want to look into Miguel's face as I plough his ass; I want to see the reaction in his eyes as I sexually use him. What will I see there? Will his eyes reflect his shame and helpless as a slave or will they mirror his pleasure or pain? I'm not sure in my mind why I need to do this. Perhaps I need to witness my power as a free man over him. I have use of him courtesy of his Master; whereas he is just a slave loaned to me by his Master and commanded by him to submit to me and to please me.
"I'll take you on your back, Miguel!"
The slave lies on his back on the silken covered bed and I take a few moments to savour the sight of him. He lifts his legs high which scrunches his abdominals into taut ridges of hard muscle. He places his hands under his head tightening his well-defined pectoral muscles and exposing his hairless armpits to my view. His curvaceous ass is elevated and with his legs spread wide, his puckering sphincter beckons me. What was the name that Malik had given to it? He'd referred to it as the slave's "Golden Portal". The term is perhaps poetic - and flowery - and yet the quivering striations surrounding his bright pink rosebud remind me of the unfurling petals of a flower. I can contain myself no longer; my balls ache for release and my errant cock takes control of me.
I position myself at the slave's ass and taking my cock in my hand, I place its head against the soft, yielding flesh of his anus and momentarily hesitate. Then I push to enter; gently at first as I have no wish to hurt the slave. I feel the relaxation of his sphincter muscles and I affect an easy entry.
I look down onto the beautiful, nude body of the slave lying before me and savour the sight. I smile at Miguel and he smiles back at me. HIs smile is enigmatic; almost as though he is harbouring a secret and this puzzles me. However, my cock rules my emotions - and my thoughts - and I have just one thing on my mind. And that is to fuck this slave who has been generously loaned to me by his Master and to fully savour the experience.
Eagerly, I lunge forward and enter wholly into the slave.
My cock is gripped in a tight, encircling embrace as the slave's anal muscles take hold and raise me to new heights of pleasure. I am oblivious to all around me and I don't hear the door opening behind me.
Suddenly, rough hands seize my shoulders and I am rudely torn from Miguel and I struggle in the firm grasp of two, burly Arabs whom I'd not seen enter the room.
The surprise of this shocks me and renders me defenceless. At first, I am uncomprehending but gradually my shock gives way to outrage as I struggle uselessly between my two captors. However, I am no match for their brute strength and my struggles are futile.
Then, from somewhere behind me, I hear laughter. I turn my head and I see Anwar and Malik followed by Mustapha and his son Hussein.
Mustapha is the first to speak.
"Anwar, my dear friend, nobly caught! Now, I think it's time to reel in your catch and to net him!"
The meaning of Mustapha's words is lost on me. However, my relief at seeing Anwar is overwhelming and I appeal to him.
"Anwar, what the fuck's goin.......... "
Unexpectedly, my words are cut short as Anwar angrily strides over to where I am restrained and viciously slaps my face with teeth-rattling force. His face is just inches form my own as he hisses.
"Silence, slave! How dare you speak to your Master without his permission? Maintain a respectful silence!"
Anwar has just told me that I am his slave!
Suddenly, the implication of his words hit home and with horrible clarity I recognize the truth of his words. Anwar has betrayed our friendship - if indeed it ever existed. He has lured me here and enslaved me. His next words confirm this.
"Malik, allow me to compliment you for the part your slave played in seducing and ensnaring this foolish, young Franj! Your slave played the part of the Honey Trap most admirably in luring my new slave to sample the delights of his body."
It would appear that Miguel was used first to beguile me and then to lull me into a false sense of security before rendering me naked and helpless for entrapment by Anwar and Malik. With the wisdom of hindsight, I now see that I have acted unwisely in allowing Anwar to seduce me by his "friendship" and to bolster my ego with his praise for my business acumen. What a fool I have been.
I bitterly resent Miguel and the part he played in my seduction and enslavement. But realistically, I can't altogether blame him. Obviously, he was carrying out his Master's instructions and most likely he was under the threat of some dire punishment should he fail. Anyway, he'd been enslaved under circumstances very similar to my own. Why then would he feel sympathy for my plight?
"I was only too happy to help, Anwar! And yes, my slave is well-versed in using his sexual wiles to take advantage of a situation. But I must compliment you on your new slave. He is a fine specimen and should generate much interest among my buyers; that is - if it is you wish to sell him?"
"It is my intention to sell him, Malik. Is it too late to list him in Saturday's auction?"
"No, not at all, Anwar! If we work quickly we can have him ready for displaying tomorrow. I have scheduled a special showing for a few of my favoured clients for tomorrow and he can take his place on the viewing podium. The slave doesn't have much body hair - so that can be removed quickly - although it seems a pity to remove his golden pubes. And it won't take long to crop his head to an acceptable length. Luckily, the slave's been circumcised and so no cutting is necessary. About an hour's work is all that's required and he can be placed in a holding pen with the other livestock."
Shocked, I listen to this conversation being conducted in English which is at variance with their earlier ones spoken in Arabic. I wonder if they are doing this deliberately; to taunt me and to acquaint me with my new circumstances. Everything has taken on a surreal feel. My brain is snap-frozen with the full horror of my situation. I struggle to comprehend what is happening to me. But one thing is abundantly clear and there is no confusion in my mind.
The awful truth dawns on me; I am now a slave like Miguel and Mustapha's six waiter slaves and like them I am to be sold in three days' time. What unimaginable horrors await me before I mount the auction-block?