Ib stood to the side-like a typical coach or training master or jailer as Jalal, an 18-year old cute and as hot a boy as I've ever seen with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and an 8-inch cock, grabbed me by my arms as his twin brother Hamza who was the cruelest bastard I'd ever met, grabbed my feet as they hoisted me up and down a dozen times until my backbone felt as if it was going to snap.

During my flight up and down into the sky and then thudding back down into the now warming desert sands, I shivered and pissed a gallon of hot pee all over myself-arching up and up into my dry parched mouth giving me just enough liquid to endure what I knew was about to come-but no, I was wrong, horribly wrong, I knew I'd be fucked and lean to practice sucking ass and toes and cock and balls as I mastered each boyish art until I saw Malik's whip and then the term 'lifelong slave' began to become fiercely true-up until now I had assumed I'd be trained and sent back home to America but the whip? OMG, not the whip!

Praise God, Malik tossed the whip into the truck as he nodded at Jalal and Hamza to lower me to the ground and then whispered, "okay, men, do what you said you could do-I believe you each promised to give my slave 4 loads of your man cum-do it! You've both opened dozens of boy throats and asses-so today, prove your skill-let the fun begin!

For the next six hours until sunrise, the four reamed my throat and asshole-and Ib even attempted to fuck my right ear-to my utter devastation and humiliation, Ib shot a half gallon of his hot cream into my ears and plugged them with ear plugs, as his men literally danced around me opening my throat deep and wide enough for their 9 and 10 inch penises, laughing gaily as they gave me enough pee and cum to fill my nearly saturated sated tummy but then Ib said, "let's go one more round as they took turns fucking my ass, my throat, slapping my face and stomping on my naked toes and I had no idea why any of them thought that was important or worthwhile or what the hell their game plane was.

Right now, naked and well-fucked in the Sahara Desert, I was parched-starving, naked, cold freezing cold in the nighttime desert. And after 5 shitty days of slave training, I was happily looking forward to my flight first class to the USA. I was told my ticket had been bought and I'd fly directly from Casablanca to my new home where I had been sold to Marlin Brooks. And although he was in North Dakota, I knew nothing could be worse than the hell I'd experienced for the past week-my nuts were freezing and my boy dick had been encased in a steel cock cage barely a quarter inch longer than my boy sized dick which mean I had had no erections for nearly a week-of course it tried but since it was now small and had shrunk down to 4 ¼ inches from its normal hard of about 6 because of my steel cock cage, I could do nothing for the but fend off the snide giggly remarks of Ib and my trainers-who laughed when I told them it hurt and they said, "If it hurts now, just wait until your new owner puts your boy dick in 3 and half inches or 3 inches or 2 and half inches and you'll pray to heaven for a kind understanding master like me.

After my training I was shown my crate and fought them off-fighting them-begging not to be locked up in a box-but no, in it I went and it was screwed shut-inside there were a number of water bottles and a dozen package of food along with a pot to piss in. there were air holes in the box and I cried, no I sobbed and wept feeling helpless for the first time in my life-presumably Ib had already confiscated all my money, taken everything from my bank account and all the money my grandparents had left me and gone to my condo, sold or given everything away (except for my gold watch and a ruby ring that had belonged to my gramps and that, along with whatever Mr. Brooks paid for my ass gave them an ungodly profit for my 5 days of training.

My body was sore, limp, bruised and in agony from the bumpy night long truck ride to the airport and there it was as I peeked through out of my box's airholes-a gigantic plane with well-dressed happy passengers boarding for their 9-hour flight to Fargo.

Nine fucking hours, I thought how in the hell could any boy live in a box in a cargo hold for 9 hours-then when the shoved me up the ramp into the cargo bay, I knew why-there were a half dozen horses-probably prized stallions along with sundry cats and dogs-so at least there would me air and climate controlled and although my accommodations were hellish I imagined the animals fared little better. That saddened me more than comforted me. I'd always been an animal lover-and protector but now I was one of them-just a boxed, crated animal sold to a higher buyer on the other side of the world.

I was in pain from the hairs on my head to those still on my crotch and balls to my ass which felt as if it was all it could ever be able to take (ha! How wrong I was with that surmisal) to the face slapping Ib and Malik so thoroughly enjoyed to the ass kicking


On to Chapter Five
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Basic Training
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