Arab stallion to pussy slave

The first day of work had come. His shift was supposed to start at 10:00 pm. The doorbell rang around 6:00 pm and an elderly Turk entered the living room carrying a small suitcase in his hand.

"Elmir, nice that you could make it!" Akshay greeted him. “We have to give this sow a little bit of humanity back here.” In fact, the beard and hair again had become a desaster and Manhor allowed himself to be led to one of the dining chairs and put a towel around his neck. First, the hairdresser took care of the hair on his head.

BRRRRR the razor whizzed up the sides and neck and big strands of black hair fell to the floor. Elmir trimmed the edges with a razor and skillfully removed hairs on Manhors ears and nose with wax. With a thread he straightened the Arab's thick eyebrows before he rubbed the beard with foam.

"This is worse than I thought!" He remarked as he put the knife to the arabs skin. With a few expert strokes, the knife slid down Manhor's cheeks and throat, and he could hear the stubble give in to the sharp blade, scratching. The Turkish barber wiped away the foam with a damp cloth and took out a round mirror.

"Is that your stile?" He asked, amused by Manhor's startled look in the mirror. His beard was almost completely gone. All around the mouth was a large, dark, pointed triangle, in the middle of which his pink lips flashed like a pussy in a woman's bush.

"That looks like a cunt!" He moaned.

“ Well, that's all your mouth is now!” Explained Akshay, “A cunt for all the cocks who want to feel comfortable in it. And there are sure to be dozens of them at work today, I can assure that! Long, fat, wrinkled, old, smelly, crooked ... it doesn't matter, they'll fuck and fill your mouth cunt like a turkey for Thanksgiving! Elmir, part two, please! "

Still horrified by the pussy beard in his face, Manhor noticed too late how he was being leaned forward over the table by the two men so that his bottom stuck out towards them. His pants were removed and he heard the shaver hum.

"Don't shave my beautiful hairy ass cheeks!" He asked, "I'm still quite a man there!"

But the razor was already sliding up and down the bulging globes of his bum. It wasn't long before Elmir had apparently done his job here, too, and both of them looked at the result proudly.

"Very good, my friend!" Said Akshay and stroked the remaining hair on Manhor's bum. "And hardly to be misunderstood!" The mirror was held behind him and he was asked to turn his head. His buttocks shone smooth and hairless in the middle of the dark hairlines of his legs and lower back. However, there was an area of thick black trimmed hair left on each buttock, two arrows pointing straight at his asshole.

“Oh Jesus, you can't do that, a man like me, a muscle god, reduced to his holes, so that everyone thinks they have to put something into them. When someone will see me like that... Oh. God, how humiliating! "

“Well, that's the point, slave! I earn with every man who uses one of your holes! Do you think the fun you had in the gym today is for free? Men pay a lot of money for a cream cake like you, why should I give it away for nothing! And now go take a shower! I want you to be clean for your first day at work, you still smell like black piss! "

While Manhor was in the shower, he wondered if his Master could actually smell what had happened to him that morning in the studio. He hadn't said anything, at least not that a black man had pissed on him and how he had loved this. So how did he know about it in such detail? In his mind he looked at the bathroom floor, where the jock was lying, on the front of which the remaining brown streaks were still visible. Without thinking straight, Manhor stuck out his freshly soaped arm of the shower and grabbed the yellowish fabric, held it close to his nose and instantly regretted how the warm jet of water from the shower washed out the alpha man's scent and how it grew weaker and weaker. Before the water could remove all traces of it, he took the jock in his right hand, sprinkled a little shower gel on it and smeared the fabric on his chest like a washcloth. If he had to take a shower, he wanted to at least feel some of that intense, masculine smell on himself. When he had completely rubbed his body with the jock from head to toe, he pulled the still slightly brownish smeared wet fabric over is strong legs, put his cock in the pouch of the jockstrap and adjusted the elastic straps under his ass cheeks. Feeling his cock touch the remaining shit in the jock instantly made him hard and twitch again and he let his fingers glide to his ass.

The feeling of his hands on his ass cheeks was strange. On the one hand, they were as smooth as a mirror, but where the arrows were, he could feel the stubble of his hair. He ran his fingertips along the edges of the arrows, and his dick again twitched with excitement. The middle finger of his right hand slid down from the arrowhead over his ass and pressed lightly against his hole, which gave in willingly and sucked the finger up to the second knuckle.

With his finger in his ass he looked at the opposite wall of the bathroom into the big mirror. He admired his muscular body in his reflection, the foamy water that ran through his dark hair. He pulled his finger out of his ass, did some striking bodybuilder poses, and was very pleased with his figure in the mirror. His hand went back to his violently throbbing cock and pushed it a little bit through the still shit-smeared fabric of the jock.

He groaned softly at the sight of his male image in the mirror. He began to run his hands slowly over his muscles with the warm jet of water from the shower on his neck. He circled his hairy chest with the palm of his hand and pinched his protruding nipples with his fingers, slid down his defined six-pack, caressed his hairy thighs and then pulled his hands backwards up to his freshly shaved ass cheeks, which he kneaded firmly. As he began to stroke and rub his cock through the fabric of his underwear with his right hand, he raised his left arm over his head, flexed his biceps, and slowly licked the hair of his armpit over the biceps of his entire upper arm like a mad dog.

Only a minute later he felt the bag of the jockstrap moisten from the inside as the first drops of semen came out. His gaze was still fixed on the perfect reflection of himself. He couldn't take it any longer, tore the elastic band down over his strong thighs and let the jock fall to the floor of the shower. His gaze was fixed in the mirror on the big cock, which with its shiny pink glans stood stiffly from his body in the middle of the black pubic hair. Once more he looked at his imposing reflection in the mirror, his thick hairy muscles that glistened from the water in the shower and the contrast of his body contours were enhanced. Then he slowly turned around and looked at his great ass. He had always worked very hard to keep it in shape with lots of squats and hours of endless leg training. He turned his head to admire his two muscular curves in the mirror. His hands slid over the shaved buttocks, caressed the remainder of the arrow-shaped hair and pulled the ass cheeks apart so that his deep, hairy hole with the pink cuntlips, twitching in anticipation, was visible.

Manhor bent down further and tucked his head between his hairy legs so that he could see his reflection in the mirror. His breathing grew louder as he touched and caressed the throbbing hole with his fingers again. The sensational feeling of his fingers on his hole ran through his entire body.

To get a better look, he left the shower and took three steps towards the mirror, pulled up a stool in the corner and sat on it only about 30 cm away from the mirror. He lifted his strong legs and set them down on the wall to the left and right of the mirror so that his hole stared right into the mirror like a third eye.

“Such a great ass!” He moaned at the sight of his reflection in the mirror, “A trembling pink hole in the middle of muscles and dark hair, so vulnerable ...! And such a great cock, already so shiny with a little bit of sperm, thick, firm shaft with clear veins, bulging eggs hidden behind black hair, so full and ripe ... ohhhh! "

Slowly he rubbed his hand up and down his cock and occasionally ran his thumb briefly over the plump glans, from which droplets of semen continuously gushed out. He raised his free hand to his lips and slipped two fingers into his mouth, sucking seductively on them and covering them with his saliva. When he had the feeling that they were nice and slippery, he let them leave his mouth and wander over his nipple in the direction of his asshole, which was already longing for admission. With his middle finger he began to forcefully rub the opening, which opened like a blossom in the morning and let his fingertips touch the sensitive skin behind it. Filled with this sensation, he hammered his cock harder with the other hand while his fingers worked his hole. The swollen tip of the cock spat out pre-cum, which he now collected on his thumb, quickly put it to his mouth and greedily sucked it up. The slightly salty taste of his sperm made him weak-willed.

"Mmmmhhh, Musclarab is licking his spermmm!" He muttered and pulled his hand out again to jerk off, while three fingers of his left hand had deeply disappeared into his hole as far as it would go. In the mirror he saw how the dark hair on the back of his hand absorbed the moisture from his ass juices and combined with the hair at his asslips right next to the pink skin. He pushed his fingers deeper and harder into his hole to stimulate his prostate. After a slight twist he found it and his cock was about to explode from the contact of his fingers in his hole. To delay the sensation a little, he pulled his fingers out again, but this time only to bury them even tighter, harder and deeper into his ass.

“Oh, fuck, my big fingers in my hard sweaty muscle ass, what a pig, I'm cumming from fingering my ass, so hot! Hairy muscle body full of sperm, so hot, so desirable! ”He screamed and lost control. He saw how his juice ran down his wanking right hand like lava from a volcano and pressed his three fingers into his loosened hole while the wet pubic hair of his asshole stuck to them. He shook his cock harder and sperm splashes covered his hairy abdomen all over the place. Two of his fingers found the point on his prostate and sperm shot out of his cock uncontrollably up to his chin exactly on the lower tip of his cunt beard. He screamed and a second jet hit his lips and his open mouth while the third landed on his left nipple and sank into his thick hair.

For a brief moment he sat almost motionless on the chair, breathing heavily, while semen continued to run from his cock into his pubic hair. When his breath calmed down, he stuck his tongue out, licked the salty semen from his lips, savored the intense male taste and pushed the remaining juices from his chin with his fingers, which were still slippery from his ass juice, into his mouth. He sucked hard on them, greedily inhaling the musky scent of his own ass. With his right hand he scooped the semen from his chest and his pubic hair and fed it to himself from the palm of his hand. He sucked up his man's juice hungrily. Then he got up, took the last step towards the mirror, looked at the cum-smeared lips on his prominent face and pressed his lips to the mirror. His tongue followed and for almost a full minute he kissed himself in the mirror, licking the glass that showed his image before hurrying back into the shower to clean up.

Freshly showered and smelling of soap and shampoo, he returned to Akshay. The Turkish hairdresser had already left. His master smiled cheekily at him and held out a black leather armor.

“That was a cool show you put on in front of the mirror!” He laughed, “You have to know that the whole house is full of cameras and everything is still being recorded! Come on, slave, put that on! "

"Yes, master!" Said Manhor, embarrassed, and began to climb into the leather straps, not knowing at first which strap should be where. When he finally put on the piece, his cock including his ballsack was stowed in a leather bag with rivets, his ass was only supported by two straps and was even pushed up a bit by them. The remaining straps ran across his torso, pressed his powerful chest muscles like a push-up bra from below and wrapped themselves tightly around his neck. Just below his larynx was a large silver ring on the strap into which Akshay hooked a leash like a dog.

"Time for you to go to work!"

Manhor was allowed to put on sweatpants and a sweatshirt for the drive to the city center, but Akshay led him on the leather leash to the tram and held it for the journey. Despite the late hour, the train was well filled and the other passengers looked at the unequal couple with astonishment. The almost a head shorter and slender Indian with his rather expensive clothes took out a monstrous muscle man of Arab origin with a stained jogging outfit like a small dog. Manhor noticed the looks of the strangers and was ashamed, didn't dare to look the strangers in the eyes so he bowed his head.

When they got near the main train station, they had to walk two more blocks to get to a club with no advertisements. From the outside only a blackened window pane was visible and the heavy steel door was stuck with a piece of paper. Akshay rang a bell to the right of the door and shortly afterwards it was opened. A thin, pale man in his fifties, balding and gray mustache like a walrus, opened the door and let them in. He led them down a flight of stairs into a basement room that was decorated like a teen disco. There was a long counter in one corner and a couple of high tables next to it. Most of the room, however, was a dance floor with a cage in the middle and a disco ball hanging over it.

"Let me see the big star guest of tonight's show!" said the man and took a step towards Manhor. He smelled of beer and stale sweat and an obtrusive cheap aftershave. His bony hand grabbed Manhor's cheeks and pressed his lips forward like a koss. Then his fingers grabbed his lips and pulled them apart. He examined the teeth like a horse. He slipped the sweatshirt over Manhor's head and took off his sweatpants, but not without feeling and caressing the body slowly and in a controlled manner fith his long and thin fingers. The old man grabbed Manhor's ass cheeks from behind and squeezed them while his mustache tickled the Arab's neck and he smelled the bar owner's bad breath. Suddenly the man's tongue slipped over Manhor's neck and up his cheek, leaving a trail of slime like a snail's.

"Very good quality, tastes good too, I'll give you 1000 for him!"

“Gerd, if you want to fool me, I'll be gone immediately!” scolded Akshay, “Nothing works below 2500! You can easily earn 10.000 with him tonight! "

"OK, 2500, but will he really do everything?"

“You can bet your ass on that! And you, slave, obey and do everything you are asked to do no matter how kinky it'll be. You know what else is going to happen, your brother is still on my mailing list! ”Akshay took the money in 100 € bills that looked as if they had come fresh out of a printer and added that he would pick up Manhor in the morning. Then he went up the steep stairs and left Manhor to his fate.

“The guests are coming in just under half an hour!” explained Gerd, “Time to fix you up! Here, rub yourself in with it! A special mix for a bitch like you. ”He handed Manhor a small bottle that looked like baby oil. Manhor unscrewed the cap and splashed some of the liquid on his hand. It was actually oil, but with pink and gold glitter in it. He started rubbing himself with it and saw his muscular arms glisten like a pink unicorn in the dim light of the cellar. He stopped and looked skeptically at the childish coloring.

"Come on, your master has assured me that you will do everything! So what's the hesitation now?"

Manhor obediently carried on with the other arm, rubbing the glittered oil on his chest, stomach and legs, and taking particular care on his buttocks. Gerd helped him on his back and suddenly the Arab was standing like a shiny disco ball in the middle of the cellar in his leather armor. In the mirror above the bar he saw his shimmering skin and had to admit that the oil and glitter looked good on his incredible body, emphasized his muscles and made him shine.

In fact just a few minutes later, the room quickly filled up with guests of different ages by 10:00 p.m. In addition to wildly hairy bear types, wiry business men with neat haircuts and a smooth shave joined the room. The bar was besieged by rather older men with thick gold chains and rings, who bought drinks for the younger guests and eagerly watched Manhor. A total of over 200 guests had to be present, as far as this could be appreciated in the crowd.

"When I see the Arab like that, the entrance fee of 40 euros was already worth it!"

"What a great ass, did you see the arrows? Please enter here, haaahaa!"

“Such a glittering care bear! I'm looking forward to the promised event! "

“... has never existed before, absolutely blatant! I'm already hard! "

"... go crazy until the Arab sow whimpers like a whore!"

"... do you find the tattoo, arab manwhore sucker, speaks for itself, he'll definitely take ..."

"... muscles until ..."

"... fully hairy, there I stand ..."

".. hot, full of my ..."

“... breed him till he spits ma cum...”

"... I've always wanted such a hairy hole ..."

"... was totally straight until recently ..."

These were scraps of conversation that he picked up as he carried drinks on a tray through the crowd. Drinks were free, apparently included in the entrance fee, and in addition to a couple of strong hands on his ass cheeks, he received one or the other beer that he had to drink with the guests not knowing that some of them were mixed with ecstasy-pills. As his mind got cloudy and euphoric at the same time he thought it must have been the stuffy air in the room and the amount of beer that made him feel dizzy. Just as the hand of a big, rough-haired guy with a thick black beard was kneading his ass and the stranger's finger slid dangerously close to his hole, there was a short feedback over the loudspeakers and Gerd's voice greeted the guests.

“Welcome to our gay dungeon party! I hope you have all been well supplied with drinks. You could now see the prey up close, so I would just like to introduce it briefly. This is Arad Manhor, 24 years old, unemployed and just lost his apartment. Until a few weeks ago he was still an arrogant straight man who made fun of gays and despised them, very homophobic. He was the alpha animal in all its muscular splendor and was very aware of it. But now see what a little discipline and training have made of him. His hole is already dripping from the few fingers that played on it while waiting. He made up his male body for you with pink and gold glitter so that you would like it. He is a slutty whore now, a depraved pig for cum and much more! And that's not all, he'll even do more for you, much much more! From now on, the event starts! There are a total of 10 rounds. Every half hour I will draw a different number of tickets. The winners are then given a task in which they can use and abuse the Arab's body, all according to the rules of the game. Therefore, from now on, there is an absolute ban on contact. The lots can be purchased from my colleagues at the counter for 20 euros. Sale from now until 11 p.m., that's when the first round begins. There are a total of 400 tickets and 100 prizes, so the chance is very high! The rules of the game are explained before each individual round. Come on, I wish all of us five exciting hours together. "

As if there was something for free, the guests rushed to the counter and jostled the cash registers to buy lots. Manhor could see how one of the older gentlemen, with a shiny reddish bald head over his wrinkled sunken face, waved a 500-euro note in the air and exchanged it for 25 tickets. Apparently he was keen to play several rounds with the Arab if possible. After a good ten minutes, one of the bartenders called out that all of his tickets had been sold, and a dozen or so guests left the bar, disappointed, because they hadn't had a chance to win. It was eight minutes before 11 p.m. and Gerd had been watching the eleven men.

"A consolation prize for those who have not received any tickets!" He said into his microphone, "You can play on the Arab's nipples up to the first round, press them, lick them, make them nice and stiff for the first game!"

The eleven men rushed at Manhor, who was defenseless and surprised and had to endure the attack on his nipples. The first to reach him, a nearly forty-year-old man in jeans who had gelled his long thinning hair back, bit his right nipple and pulled it far away from his body, so that Manhor gave a short scream. A young guy, no more than 160 cm tall, who looked rather underage due to his small size, grabbed his left nipple with his delicate fingers and pressed it so tightly that the tip came out between his fingertips and a third man with a red beard rubbed his stubble at the tip of the nipple. After less than a minute they took turns and two fat bears which hardly differed from each other both in distressed jeans and sleeveless flannel shirts, stepped in front of him with two glasses of beer. They dipped their fleshy fingers into the foam of the beer and applied it to Manhor's chest, where they licked it off again with their long, coarse tongues. Another minute later four guys in black leather stepped up to Manhor who already was lost in the nipple torture.

One of them had a thick black beard and wore a leather cap like a bull. They had gotten needles from somewhere. They pressed the point of them against his sensitized nipples just enough for the skin to redden but not to be pierced. So Manhor stood in the middle of the room, illuminated by spotlights, surrounded by over 200 strange men, his nipples maltreated with needles from above and below, in a thunderstorm of flashes from cell phones and screamed at the ceiling while his cock that was in the leather harness that enveloped his penis discharged and his juice ran sideways from the pouch down his hairy inner thighs. The crowd laughed and marveled and some took a few steps up to take close-ups of the running sperm. The last two "losers" replaced the leather types. They had burning red candles in their hands. Manhor's eyes were full of tears, so he could only see the men to a limited extent. One seemed to be an Asian, the other a muscular Western European, he couldn't see more than that over the flames of the candles in front of his eyes. The Asian grabbed the hair on the back of his head and pulled it back so that Manhor's upper body came into a strong curvaceous position and his chest was almost horizontal to the ceiling. They held the burning candles over him and dripped the hot red wax onto his nipples. The Arab screamed louder than he thought he had ever screamed before in his life. More and more of the wax covered his areola. The two men managed to let the wax drip so precisely that the Arab stood in front of the pack at 11:59 p.m. with bright red wax balls on his chest, tears running down his face and smudging the glitter on his cheeks in greasy streaks .

"11:00 pm! Round 1 ”, Gerd reported on the microphone,“ Pimp your Arab, is the name of the first game! My colleagues will now be handing out gadgets with which the following lot numbers can adorn and decorate our candidate: 59, 113, 124, 362! You have half an hour. Oh and by the way: you all signed the declaration of commitment when you registered online. Photography and filming is expressly permitted for private use! Publication on the Internet or other public media is prohibited and will be prosecuted! Please note this!"

The four called out stepped out of the crowd and gave up their ticket numbers while two boxes were placed at Manhor's feet. The first winner was quite handsome in Manhor's eyes, a Colin Farrell type, dark, mysterious with a soft yet somehow haunted look. The second man, how could it be otherwise, was the old man, who had invested 500 euros for lots. It was only now that he had emerged from behind the counter that Manhor could see that he was short and fat, his hairy stomach sticking out over the belt of his trousers like pudding from under his T-shirt. The man rubbed his hands happily, his gold signet rings gleaming in the headlights. Number three was only wearing a red muscle shirt and short jeans. His body was sinewy and thin, and his long, dyed hydrogen blonde hair hung lank across his face. The last one to break out of the crowd was wearing a black shirt and dark suit trousers, and he seemed to have just come from work. He wore dark-framed stylish glasses that gave his face something artistic. His shirt was unbuttoned and Manhor could see that he was at least not untrained, because his chest muscles were clearly visible.

The old man was already busy rummaging through one of the boxes. With a joyous cheer he jumped up and pulled out something like two gold earrings with long chains with glittering stones on them. Before Manhor understood what it was about, the bald man tore off the wax, including some embedded chest hair, from Manhor's right nipple and pressed the first piece of jewelry with an adhesive pad over his nipple, which was still reddened from wax and torture. The gold jewelry now dangled from his chest like at a stripper. As he repeated this on his left chest, the other three rummaged through the boxes.

The skinny blonde pulled a pink feather boa from the box and a glittering tiara, which he put on the Arab's head and draped the boa over his strong neck. Manhor had to lift his feet for the businessman, for he had picked out black nylon tights, which he now carefully, without tearing the fine-meshed fabric or creating a ladder, pulled up the Arab's legs to which the fresh sperm still stuck and oozed through the thin fabric, rolled the stockings up until the ass was covered with the pantyhose. The guy who looked like Colin Farrell had found fake eyelashes with rhinestones and glued them to Manhor's long, thick eyelashes. Then he drew a strong eyeliner on both sides that ran down to the corners of the eyes. Again the four of them began to rummaging in the boxes, found artificial glittering fingernails, a belly chain with blue and pink pearls on it, clip earrings that matched the nipple jewelry, a red garter belt and glittering stilettos that Manhor had to laboriously squeeze into. When they had dressed him up like that, photos were taken before the feather boa and tiara were removed and he was tucked over his arms in a pink belly dance costume with a wide veil and rhinestones. A dark long hair wig was pulled over his head and a belly dance hair ornament with golden coins was draped in it. The once proud Arab stood like a drag bearded princess from 1001 Nights in veil-like robes in front of the strange crowd of men and stared into the light of the spotlights like a stage actor with stage fright before his big appearance. Arabic belly dance music played from the loudspeakers and the crowd cheered him on, so that he was forced to dance awkwardly on the unusually high heels and circle his arms with the transparent veil in the air. As embarrassing as this seemed to him, the fear of the punishment that would await him in the event of disobedience was greater than the shame, and when the crowd started laughing and roaring, he tried all the more to make perfect movements.

"11:30 pm, my friends! Time for round 2 ", the host's voice rang out," Please take off the disguise and step back! " Our winners are: 8, 67, 187, 204, 271, 319, 377 and 381! The Arab can now be tickled for 30 minutes. You can use your fingers, but I can tell you that it will be even more exciting with our tools, so take it! "

Again two big boxes of wood were set up on the stage. Eight men emerged from the group. Three of them began to tickle him with their fingers, a Latino with a ponytail and a goaty shaved almost to a thin line around his sensitive lips concentrated on his left armpit, the other two tickled him purposefully from the soles of his feet up to his balls protected behind the black leather of the armor. He saw the other five take out items of the box, a dirty toilet brush appeared in the hand of a construction worker with strong muscles and a full beard, a slim, bald man in his 60s with sunken cheeks put two curls with bristles over his hands, as they probably were intended for brushing Horses. A long white feather appeared in the hands of a curly-haired black man. The feather woved in the air and seemed to glisten in the black light of the basement, and a gray-haired man with a round, sweaty face and thin lips approached him with a tickle vibrator that looked a little like one Pitahaya with lots of small spines. The last of them put on gloves with long chrome claws on the fingertips that looked like little knives. He reminded Manhor of this horror flick, Freddy Kruger.

"Hahahahahaha!" Echoed Manhor's laughter through the room, while the eight winners intensely tampered with his body. He had to kneel down so that the soles of his feet were exposed for the charm of the feathers in the black man's hand. With his arms above his head, he had to put up with the tickling of the Latino's fingers on one side, while on the other side his armpit was groomed with the bald man's right hand, whose other hand gently stroked the brushes in circulating movements over the Arab's hairy chest, not without occasionally touching his reddened nipple with the bristles. The tickle vibrator was guided from the front between his legs and sent its vibration through the leather into his bulging balls. The man in the clawed gloves had crouched behind him and tickled his torso from his side hip with skillfully twitching fingers. While the two, who had initially tickled his legs, were now fighting a duel with the feathers under the Arab's feet, the Latino took an electric stimulation dildo made of shiny aluminum from the box and shoved it into the laughing Arab's mouth. The electrical impulses sent a tingling sensation on Manhor's tongue and he turned and writhed with the sheer stimulation until he suddenly felt the toilet brush that the rough construction worker had chosen rub against his asshole. For a brief moment Manhor wondered how much shit must have been hanging in the dirty bristles of this toilet brush, but lost concentration when the head of the toilet brush was pressed harder against his assring. It only took a few seconds for the bristles to slip through his sphincter muscle and tickle his anal duct from the inside. Then followed once more of the bulging fingers of the coarse man who stank strongly of beer and cigar. The index finger slipped into the arab's rosebud next to the toilet brush and tickled the places that were not touched by the bristles. He wanted to howl, but the twitching dildo in his mouth suppressed the attempt to scream, so that only a grunting murmur and drooling escaped his throat, which, however, could hardly be heard in the tumult of the cheering audience. The saliva ran from the corners of his mouth and dripped onto his squeezed breasts, where the bald man's bristled brush rubbed it gently into his hair.

After about ten minutes, Manhor lost all control and sense of time. Just like an hour before, when his nipples had been processed, he shot his second load of semen into his penis holster and was already hard again when the eight men who had been tickling him for 25 minutes were interrupted by Gerd.

“Violation of the rules!” rang out the microphone, “Kissing is not allowed, at least not in this group! One-time warning, this applies to everyone here, anyone who does not follow the rules will be disqualified immediately! "

The lips of the gray-haired man with the clawed gloves, who took the opportunity to briefly remove the dildo from Manhor's mouth, peeled away from Manhor's mouth. It was Manhor, who had thrown his head back out of sheer ecstasy and offered his lips so seductively to the strange man who could almost have been his grandfather that he could not resist.

"Time is up! Please put all items back into the boxes! 00:00 o'clock! Round 3 is starting now. I think the beer he drank will now have had its effect! Walk the dog! The Arab must be taken for a walk! Number 203 and 272, you lead him out to pee on the street. And just to prevent meanwhile that it doesn't get boring in here, one of you has a go-pro that broadcasts live here on the screen! "

An image signal that was generated by a projector flickered on the long wall opposite the counter. A young man who appeared to be about the same age as Manhor and the bald old man from the counter with his eye-catching gold jewelry stepped forward. He had already won the second time, the investment of his 500 euros seemed to be worth it for him. The younger man, who wore tight skinny jeans and a white V-neck T-shirt, pressed on the neck of the Arab, so that he was pushed down on all fours. He bent down and put the leash on Manhor, then pressed a black plug with a dog's tail into the hand of the old man. With a loud laughter the bald man positioned the bone in the Arab's hole smacking the tail with his flat hand so that the latex wiggled a little bit.

"So, now that's what I call a treat!" whispered the younger one and Manhor saw on the screen how the boy pushed a black gag in the shape of a bone into his mouth and fastened the strap around his neck.

"If you want to hold the leash, then I'll take the camera!" he asked the older man, who liked to grab the leather and drag Manhor on the leash in the direction of the stairs so as not to lose valuable time.

Once on the street, Manhor was initially glad that it was so late. Nobody seemed to be in the area anymore, and so he trotted on all fours across the dirty curb in front of the bald man with his jingling gold chains on his arms and neck towards the boy walking backwards and holding the camera at him. His master pulled a leash on a street lamp so that he had to stop.

"Come on, take a sniff!" He ordered and Manhor obediently bowed his head to the ground where he could see a wet spot even in the dark. At that moment a couple came around the corner holding hands and the young woman winced at first, then crossed the street in disgust and took a step. Manhor was drawn on and the two winners landed a lucky strike when they came around the next corner. A homeless man had just peed on the wall in an alcove and was walking away down the street with his clattering shopping cart, while his warm urine was still steaming in the cold evening air. The line was pulled towards the fresh puddle and Manhor knew that resistance would not help him, it could possibly make it worse. So he lowered his gagged head only a few centimeters above the fresh puddle of urine and sniffed at it, as he had observed dogs doing it. Instinctively, he began to move his ass so that his rubber cock wiggled.

"Look!" Said the old man, "he's wiggling his tail! I think he's enjoying it!"

A lot of beer was served in the cellar bar and the guests were amazed at the pictures of the Arab, who apparently willingly lowered his nose over a puddle of piss from a bum and wiggled his ass. They toasted each other and tried to capture the best possible snapshots of the screen with their photo apps.

Another corner down the street was brighter and busier. The three caught the attention of several passers-by, and the younger man, whose friend had named him Tim, indicated that they should hurry up before anyone could alert the police of causing public nuisance. So they pushed Manhor to a lamppost across from a cafe, where the last guests were still lingering, and opened his harness bag, which was sticky from the inside with his sperm. His prick was dangling wet and swollen between his legs.

"Come on, lift your leg!" ordered Tim and Manhor obeyed. With his leg lifted to the side and the smell of bum piss still in his nose, the beer immediately poured out of his penis and splashed against the lamppost. A warm puddle formed in front of him and ran towards him, so that his knees sank into it. When he had finished pissing across the street some guests in the cafe were already calling the police wildly gesticulating through the window panes with cell phones on their ears. The two winners quickly dragged the Arab without closing the harness around the two corners to the cellar bar, which was so hidden no stranger would find.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, the gag was removed and Manhor had to eat dry dog-biscuits from the boy's palm while the older one now held the camera. When Tim noticed that the Arab could not swallow the dry food, he spat vigorously on the remaining biscuits in his hand, so that his moist saliva mixed with the bone-shaped chunks. Manhor hungrily grabbed the now slippery treats and gratefully chewed them in his mouth. Then the boy hugged the Arab, who licked his face like a little puppy. He seemed to have taken on the role. In his eagerness he did not notice how the bald man pulled the dog's tail out of his hole and pushed the slimy plug with his ass juice into the arabs mouth. He just kept licking eagerly as if there was no tomorrow.

"00:30 o'clock! Round 4. Look at this neet mustache like a woman's pussy! A perfect black triangle with a soft wet hole in it. But our Arab will become a beast for you!” Gerd took out a pink mask with long blond curly hair that resembled a pig's head. He slipped the latex over Manhor's skull. The mask, which smelled of cheap rubber, covered his head up to his nose, so that his mustache was still exposed. It had no holes for his eyes, which is why Manhor now crouched blindly on his knees and sniffed for air with his pig nose. The pink ears of the mask were pointed up and he heard the crowd laughing around him as Gerd smeared his lips with sticky lipstick.

Suddenly he the familiar smell of poppers entered the holes through the mask, as a brown bottle was held under the pig's snout. He tried to avert his face, but a calloused hand grabbed his mouth and held it shut, forcing him to inhale the poppers through his nose. One by one, both of his nostrils filled and his resistance broke.

“This round is called Feed Miss Piggy, I hope you can cum on this horny pig. Ten of you are going to cum in this pussy pig's mouth in the next 30 minutes. Fill his mouth-cunt with your juice, the pig is thirsty. 28, 169 ... “The numbers and calls echoed in his head until he felt the first cock in his open mouth. It slid long and thin along the roof of his mouth and without hesitation his tongue began to play on it. The cock moved eagerly back and forth in his mouth, fucking his face vigorously until after a few minutes he sprayed his juice deep into Manhor's throat and was replaced by a second cock. This smelled more manly and sweaty, Manhor could even smell that through the holes of the mask in his pig's snout above the strong odor of the latex. The shaft was also covered with thick hair almost to the foreskin, which tickled his lips.

"You have moistened his throat quite a bit!" grunted the stranger with the hairy cock to the first man and pushed hard while he grabbed the masked back of the pig's head through the blond hair and thereby pressed the fucked mouth immobile and docile on his shaft.

"Ohhhh, yeah, I'm coming, I'll feed the sow with my farmer's juice, nice white man's milk, swallow it, you cunt, drink my sticky nectar!"

While he was still filling Manhor's mouth and the strong taste of the fresh jizz clouded his thoughts, another man pushed his fat cock next to that of the second man, so that Manhor now had two plump tails in his mouth and his lips were spread wide. His mouth was filled with semen and two cocks poked around in it like pistons in a well-oiled engine block. With a pop, the man who had already come pulled his dripping cock out from between the Arab pig's lips and watched how thin threads of his sperm hung briefly between the soft lips and his glans like rubber bands that would not let go of the prick. Then the connection broke and the sperm threads dripped onto Manhor's stubborn chin.

Number three came with a scream in his mouth and stuffed the cock so deep into Manhor's throat that his juice ran right past the uvula and down his esophagus. A short gag reflex came up, but this was stopped by swapping the cocks. This smooth cock, which now filled his mouth, was pierced, a thick ring seemed to pull through the glans and lay cold and hard on Manhor's tongue. The crowd cheered on the man with the pierced cock, apparently almost everyone here knew him.

"Pasqale, fuck the face!"

"Spray the pig full to the brim, Pasqale!"

"Come on, Piggy, grunt for your Pasqale!"

With his mouth stuffed by Pasqale's cock, Manhor began to snort out of his nose, which tightened his palate around the cock and squeezed the glans.

"The pig is trying to milk me!" Shouted Pasqale and his first shot of sperm spit deep into Manhor's throat. "Take that, you pig ... and that ... and that ... aaaaannnndddd aaahhhh!" Pasqale actually sprayed five times into the Arab's mouth.

His dick was replaced by a comparatively wrinkled, limp sausage, which moved hesitantly in his mouth. The man who was part of it groaned and breathed shallowly, even if Manhor could not see him, he was sure that this stranger had been of retirement age for some time. Gradually the cock swelled up, even if it didn't get really big, at least it was hard and hopefully it would cum soon. It was so humiliating for the twenty-five year old to suck on that grandpa cock and make the limp part cum. After almost five minutes the time had come, and what Grandpa couldn't offer in size, he made up for in quantity. None of the four previous cocks had hosed down that hard. Manhor believed he was hit by a bullet in the throat when the first sperm jet hit him. Then the juice ran out of the slacking cock again and just didn't stop. His mouth filled six times and he kept swallowing.

"Willi, how long haven't you hosed down?" Shouted one of the crowd, "There's juice in there for weeks!"

"Everything for my little piggy-pig!" Groaned the old man and pulled his wrinkled penis out of Manhor's dripping mouth, smeared a few more drops into his mustache and stepped aside.

Now it didn't matter. Manhor felt the warmth of two cocks to the left and right of his face behind the mask and reached out for them blindly. He pulled the strangers to him by their stiff cocks and licked their glistening acorns. Then he stuffed both members as deeply as he could into his slimy mouth at the same time and sucked on them, licked them, compared their shape and their taste with the tongue like a blind man would measure things. The left cock was long, thick, and trimmed. It tasted clean and the smell of soap still clung to it. The right one was also long, but a lot thinner. Towards the tip he made an upward curve so that the glans rubbed Manhor's palate as he sucked the cock deeper into his mouth. In all likelihood the man had been to the toilet shortly before, because the Arab could still make out the taste of urine on the glans. While he had the two cocks in his mouth and was jerking their shaft in one of his strong hands, he counted the countdown backwards in his head.

"Seven done, three more to come!"

It wasn't long before his mouth filled again from both sides and he couldn't swallow everything at the same time. The soup ran out of his mouth as the cocks continued to penetrate him. Feeling it drip onto his hairy chest, he let go of the shafts and began rubbing the semen into his hair on the mountains of muscles as if it were sunscreen. His black chest hair stuck together in the white mass of male effusion. An enthusiastic murmur and applause from the crowd followed this action and as the two dicks were pulled out of his mouth, he raised his cum-smeared hands to his mouth and licked them clean between his fingers before any other cock was there to fill his mouth.

“Ten minutes more!” Announced Gerd over the microphone, “Take your time, the pig is still very hungry! And just look at that, he must have hosed again, it is literally oozing out of his armor, the delicious Arabian cream! "

"Hungry? Quite the opposite! ”Thought Manhor and felt how the dog food and the amount of sperm were heavy in his stomach. His throat felt dry and sticky, and he longed for a cold beer or just a glass of water.

The eighth cock went fast, apparently the man had waxed before, because the shaft was sticky and damp from his sperm and it only took a few seconds for the load to shoot into Manhor's mouth. While the ninth pushed his dick into the mouth of the Arab and explored the oral cavity from left to right the glans pressing Manhor's cheeks outwards, he felt how the tenth was already pressing his mushroom head from the outside against his bearded face and smeared the first drops of his sperm in the beard of the Arab.

"A strange man marks my beard with his jizz and so many men are watching!" Thought Manhor and felt how his cock got stiff at the thought. "I'm Miss Arab-Piggy, the cum-drinking bearded macho pig ... ohhh, that can't be ... I don't want that ...!" Still he grabbed the cock to the left of his cheek, which he squeezed to milk more drops out of him to apply them onto his face.

When the cock finally came in his mouth, the last one briefly pushed his dripping glans into it and Manhor let the juice of the two men collect in his mouth with relish and gurgled it until the two pulled out their softening cocks and watched the Arab as he let their juice circulate in his mouth like fine wine and then let it slide down his throat, sip by sip. The mask was removed from him and the light of the cellar bar, as dim as it was, blinded him for a moment until his pupils got used to it again. His stomach was so full, he thought he could even see that his hard-earned six-pack was deformed into a small ball by the juices in his stomach. He urgently needed to go to the bathroom, but the next round was announced.

“Dear guests, it is now 1:00 am. The next round is called Spitting Image. Therfore the Arab will now lie on his back with his legs and arms spread wide for you. Look at this magnificent body, so manly and hairy on the outside, muscular and flawless, and filled with more sperm on the inside than a station hooker sees in a week. From the inside he's a real cunt now, a cumdump, so we'll let him feel it from the outside as well. Five of you will now be able to spit on him for half an hour. You can just spit on him with your thick and rich saliva or use a soapy sip of beer on him, on his face, on his biceps, on his cock, on his dark Arab body hair, until he is oozing with your snot on every corner, because that's what he is on the outside, a spittoon! Oh yes, there will be free beer and milk at the counter for the five candidates for this round! 65, 183, 197, 210 and 322! "

Manhor didn't have to be asked any further, he knew where his place was that evening, whether he liked it or not. And so he stretched out his legs and arms like someone crucified on the ground and waited patiently for the five winners. He saw three strong and two slightly slimmer men emerge from the crowd, but before he could study one of the winners more closely, a thick, viscous lump of spit hit him right between the eyes and clouded his vision. In the backlight he could only make out the shadowy outlines armed with beer cans and milk cartons that lined up in a circle around him. Almost synchronously, the five men drank a long sip of their liquids and spat it with all their might on the Arab lying on the floor in his leather armor. A cold frothy jet hit his face and his eyes began to burn. Two other men spat their beer on his hairy chest, where it sank into the thick dark curls, foaming. The thinnest of them had taken a box of milk and first spat it on Manhor's cock, where the white juice mixed with the sperm oozing from his leather harness. Then he stepped forward, took another sip, and leaned forward. The jet of milk shot out of his mouth towards Manhor's jaw and when the Arab felt the milk on his lips, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue for it. This was used as a chance by the fifth winner, who was standing at his head and had meanwhile spat some of his beer into Manhor's hair. He grunted vigorously to collect enough spit and pushed a sticky yellow load right into Manhor's open mouth, the milk running down the side of his cheeks.

For a moment Manhor thought he was going to choke on the thick gob of spit in his mouth, it was so sticky and slimy. But then there was another load of spat out beer mixing in his mouth and he began to swallow with delight.

"He swallowed my snot!" Yelled the fifth, who was apparently a bit corpulent. "The sow drinks my spit down to the last drop!"

All five of them collected saliva loudly in their mouths and spat on his muscle-packed body several times in a row. Manhor felt the men's saliva stick together his body hair on his chest and legs. Two particularly thick loads of snot were spat into his armpits from a short distance, where they got sticky and slimy in the black armpit hair.

Two of the winners had kneeled at his feet and spat small, tickling jets of beer under his feet. Two others sprayed his armpits with milk. He had to laugh and again the fat man spat his sticky spit into his laughing mouth. This time no beer followed, so he had to struggle with swallowing. Fortunately, the fat man was now concentrating on his upper body. Again and again he drank a heavy load of beer and spat it into Manhor's body hair. He seemed to be enjoying the sight of the frothy beer in his black hair.

After a while, some hands grabbed him and turned him over on his stomach. His buttocks were pulled apart so that his hole was open like a yawning mouth. The five of them gathered between his splayed legs and took turns spitting their beer and milk loads straight into his hairy rosebud. It felt warm and cold, hard and soft and incredibly awesome at the same time. Somehow, he didn't know if the effect of the poppers were responsible or if he just got into this kinky game, his body felt very good and he got hard again.

“You stuff my horny Arab hole full with snot, wash it with your spit made of beer and milk!” shouted Manhor in ecstasy, “Fill me, fill me with your spit and drool, I want to swim in it! Oh god, I'm so hard, my cock pushes through the leather into your snot, it's wet with beer and spit! I ... ohhhh ... I come mmeeeee! ”And again a load of semen shot into the leather holster and poured out of it into the puddle of beer and milk and spit.

“A question to the five winners!” rang Gerd's voice. “That's a pretty mess here in the shop by now! Do you want to keep spitting for the last ten minutes or enjoy your free beer while the pathetic Arab licks the mixture of saliva, beer and milk from the floor to clean it for the next game? "

"Let him lick it!" Shouted one.

"Lick!" Confirmed another.

“Yes, free beer and a great slave lick show! I do have some of the shit on my boot, does he clean that too? "

“But of course, the sow cleans everything here with its tongue!” Gerd confirmed and without waiting for the prompt, Manhor got on all fours and began to lick the disgusting tasting mixture from the floor with his tongue. At some point black boots stained with milk and beer were held in front of his nose and he obediently cleaned them with long, flat movements of his tongue.

"My boots have never been so clean!" triumphed the tall stranger, of whom Manhor could only see the silhouette in the backlight, although the stinging in his eyes had subsided. A few more minutes he devoted himself to the sticky liquid mixture on the floor, then the final whistle came and Gerd announced round 6.

"1:30 am. Prison breed. One of my favorite games, I would love to take part myself. The Arab is our prisoner now. Put him in the cage! The twenty winners can now fill his ass with cum through the cage grid! You can fuck him in the insatiable ass if you want, whoever wants to do it safe should wait until the second half though! In the last 15 minutes of this game he'll get a plug, an ass tunnel, so that you can fill the prisoners hole with relish. I hope you guys are nice and horny! Otherwise you can get some Viagra at the bar! Numbers 4, 7, 36, 55, 76, 93, 102, 138, 144, 165, 182, 206, 215, 267, 272, 279, 284, 305, 316 and 365! "

Manhor was in a kind of delirium. As he was squeezed on all fours into the cage, which had only just enough room to huddle in it like a rabbit, the numbers shot through his mind. He could no longer assign their meaning. Would it go on like this for another 4 years? Would he feel 7 cocks at the same time someday penetrating his sculpted body? Would 36 cm of hard fleshy cock be enough to satisfy him or would he ask for 55 cm dildos? Would he have to satisfy men aged 76, 93, or even 102? Could all of their cum and piss fed to him make him gain so much weight so that he would become fat and flubby and weigh 144-165 kg? And yet Akshay would give him to another 182 horny men to milk them, would let him be fucked 206 times in one evening, let him suck 215 cocks, let him cum 267 times, endure 272 lashes until he would have let out 279 times lustfully distorted screams of pain and would have thanked his master 284 times at the same time, because he had given him a task for his life, a purpose that deviated from his stupid former jobs. He was there to make others happy, to give them a few hot hours, to be able to offer them his hot body, which they admired and appreciated and which they filled with their precious juices. If his master desired so, he could tattoo his slut 305 times on his body, give him 316 glittering piercings, so that he would shine like a Christmas tree and he would still obey him 365 days a year. It had come so far with him. When the first cock entered his outstretched ass without warning, he squealed with happiness and the crowd roared. The fat glans was all he felt of the stranger, there was no face, no voice, just this thick end of a greedy cock that shagged his ass canal with force and brought him to an orgasm within a few seconds, so that he spilled his own juice to the bottom of the cage in the same moment as his ass was flooded with a stranger's sperm, almost as if the sperm had simply shot through his body.

In front of his eyes behind the bars of the cell, the remaining candidates jerked their cocks. Due to his cooped up posture, he couldn't lift his head any further and saw only their lower bodies in the semi-darkness of the room, their stiff cocks, which glistened in the light of the club between their massaging fists partially moistened by the men's saliva. Everyone wanted to shoot their juice into him in the half hour they had gained and were preparing for their time with the Arab. He saw two big black cocks in the crowd, a rather crooked, elongated, light-colored cock with what appeared to have thick pink veins, if the light did not deceive him, there was one with a snake-like tattoo that wrapped around the entire shaft several times, a very hairy, animal-like cock, of which only the acorn peeked out pink between the dark pubic hair. The rest was pretty average, and before he could worry about it, the glans plug of the first cock was pulled out of his ass with a plop and before a drop of sperm could leak out of it was filled by a large, fat and hard member, that even though he couldn't see the fucker he knew by the sheer size it had to belong to one of the BBCs. In anticipation for all the cocks before him he licked his lips and being pounded from the rear left his toungue dangle out of his mouth.

“Come on Mamabo, loosen it up for us.” One of the winners cheered the man behind him on and Mamabo pushed so hard that Manhor fell over despite his hands and all his muscles in the front and his face was pressed hard into the cell grid. His ass burned with the brutality of the shocks, which were harder and more aggressive than anything he had experienced before. The pain was relieved after ten more thrusts, however, when another gush of warm semen rushed through his anal walls, easing the pain like an ointment.

When another stranger took his place at the slaves back, whose thrusts were rather cautious, Manhor managed to support himself with his hands again. Despite the slow thrusts, he felt his limp member dangling beneath him and beating against his thighs with the rhythm. The black guy had somehow made him horny, but his cock had become limp from the pain. Even this tiny carrotlike dick, which was now working his ass, wouldn't change that. After a while, the third load of cum shot out of the small dick in a relatively lush amount. The fourth winner didn’t even put his cock all the way into him, only his thick glans pressed through the loose rosette and the load shot into the Arab with several powerful thrusts. Number five skillfully pressed two fingers into Manhor's ass in addition to his cock and massaged the slippery anal skin of the Arab with them. While he then fucked him with slow but strong long thrusts, each time pulling his cock out almost completely and then sinking it deeply and firmly into the Arab's ass again, he pulled out the fingers that were moistened with the sperm of his predecessors and held them with his outstretched arm through the cell bars in front of Manhor's face. Without thinking, the Arab opened his mouth, had to press his forehead against the bars and wrapped his lips around the two sperm fingers to suck them like a lollipop. The smacking of his mouth sounded in unison with the smacking of the bumps in his penetrated buttocks. He came again, but this time his sperm shot out of him so hard that it got stuck in his thick chest hair and didn't drip straight to the ground.

Two other men of no remarkable technique or size filled his cunt. Manhor felt the seven charges already swaying in him when the eighth winner began his thrusts. If he could have looked down at himself, he would have been sure to see a drooping belly like a cow's udder full of babycream would cover his noble six-pack, so strange this bubbling mass already felt in him.

The next man was so fat that his flabby belly slammed through the cell bars with every hit against Manhor's ass cheeks. But that didn't bother him. In his mind the Arab himself was a cum-pregnant pig in the ninth month. He hardly noticed the additional charge.

"It's my turn now, my cobra will give you a real shake!" Hissed the man with the snake tail, which he waved in front of the Arab's eyes and then disappeared behind him. The snake went quickly up his ass and hissed in and out relentlessly. Long, rapid thrusts were followed by strangely twitching and circular movements until the poison of the cobra shot into him, so strong that he thought he could feel and taste it on his tongue. He bent his arms and bowed his head to the floor of the cell, where the sperm he had shot 20 minutes ago was slowly drying. He eagerly licked his juice while another giant dick, certainly the other black guy, took his place on the Arab's rectum.

“The sow can't get enough!” Shouted one of the crowd.

"It's not enough for him to get breeding from behind, he also has to lick his own juice!" Roared another and laughed. The crowd joined in the laughter and immediately they cheered the black man on for his hammering thrusts with a common groan. He came with a loud scream and clapped his big black hands in ecstasy on Manhor's hairy ass cheeks so hard that they stung and instantly blushed. Before the black man removed his cock, he rubbed his sweaty hands over the even more sweaty ass of the Arab and smoothed the dark hair on it.

"You have a nice loose cunt, piggy, even better than my wife's!" He said with a heavy accent and pulled his cock out.

Since no one was directly following, Gerd stepped forward and stuck a tube up Manhor's bottom, which was pushed deeper and deeper into him like a gastric tube. It was a strange, sometimes painful feeling.

“We want everything to arrive in the right place!” Gerd explained to him. "Lower your upper body completely, I want your ass to point to the sky!"

Manhor obeyed as best he could in the cell. At the end of the hose there was a funnel, the narrow end of which was guided into his hole. Another tube was attached to the side, which ended up on a stand like a drip with a mop bucket at the top.

"This is a 4-liter Pissenema, freshly filled at the urinal in the back room! Probably piss of over 30 different men, mixed together as a nice cocktail for you!" Gerd whispered in his ear. “This ensures that nothing gets stuck in your intestines. None of the eleven previous loads and certainly not what else is to come! Nice and warm, isn't it? "

The piss was already starting to flow and he heard several of the men jerking off behind him as they stood around the funnel, in which a small puddle of piss stood nearly up to the brim and disappeared and reappeared, just matching the panting breaths of the Arab. One after the other splashed their seed into the funnel and they watched as their sperm disappeared into the hole of the funnel, no, not just disappeared but was sucked into the Arab's stomach like the vakuum flushing on an airplane toilet.

"May I do it again?" Mamabo shouted over the enthusiastic crowd when everyone was finished and the half hour was not over except for three minutes. Apparently Gerd had nodded to him, because behind him Manhor heard the cock hissing in the black man's fingers and a 21st load ran into him, including the last drops of urine from the bucket. The funnel was removed and replaced with an ass plug as a cork. A couple of strong hands pulled Manhor out of the cage by his feet. The Arab was so full that he could hardly move. They pulled him up and the crowd made an astonished noise. In fact, the Arab's well-trained belly had been replaced by a plump, round beer belly, only that it was filled with piss and semen from many strange men. Manhor stared down at himself in disbelief and felt this strange part of the body with his fingers, stroking it like a pregnant woman looking for her baby's kicks.

A raging applause broke out and Gerd had to make an effort to stop it in order to ring in the next round.

"2:00 am, I hope you are not tired yet and have a lot of creamy fun!" announced Gerd and was confirmed by loud cheers from the crowd. "Now that our prisoner himself has packed quite a bit, we want to wrap it up nicely. Wrap it up is the name of the next round and is a bukkake. Everything is allowed, including facials, but please don't hesitate in quantity so that his body is nicely covered with thick sperm. There are 30 candidates for this, which should be enough for such a fat mountain of muscles! Numbers 12, 23, 47, 72, 75 ...” The numbers echoed and faded in Manhor's ears over the winner's enthusiastic “Here” and “Yess!” as he was pushed to his knees and his fat stomach rested on his thighs.

Within seconds he was surrounded by hot cocks pressing against him. Their acorns caressed his forehead, nose, cheeks, rubbed shoulders and neck muscles and smeared their first drops of sperm alternately on his lips while they were jerking off. After a few minutes, the first rays of sperm shot down on him. His left ear filled and the juice sluggishly trickled down his neck onto his shoulder. Almost simultaneously, an even bigger charge hit him on the forehead and temple and closed his right eye. His chest was covered on two sides and he could feel the wetness on his back between his shoulder blades, which slowly dripped down into the crack in his ass. His hair was suddenly dripping full of jizz of about three or four men and another jet hit him sideways across his cheek and lips and dripped from there into his mustache before he could stick his tongue out. A few more men splashed on his round stomach and his hairy legs, even the soles of his feet behind him, were soaked in semen. The upper arms with their bulging biceps and triceps muscles suddenly shone bright white when at least three charges of hot babyjuice were distributed on each side. His world was switched off, he was on a cloud of semen, he smelled semen, saw semen and felt it, otherwise there was nothing left for him. He opened his mouth wide like at the dentist and stuck out his tongue and a juicy jet hit him right in the mouth opening as if the winner had only been waiting for it. The Arab raised his arms and half-blindly grabbed the  shooting cocks  around him to help them jerk off and point them at himself. His hairy forearms as well as his exposed chest with the stiff nipples were shortly drowned in sperm. A look at the canvas screen from the still functioning eye showed him how he was soaked from top to bottom in a transparent shell made of glowing semen and this enveloped his body like a cocoon.

The contestants left the stage one by one after shooting thier loads on the pig. It didn’t take long though, because Gerd drew ten more special winners to fill the remaining 8 minutes and these, too, wetted the Arab with everything they could give.

The cage was removed from the stage and a tin tub like a pig trough was pulled in its place.

“Time for the pig to be washed!” Gerd opened the next round. "02:30 am, golden shower! Rinse it off properly! Show the pig where it belongs! ”Manhor was dragged backwards into the trough while the 15 winning numbers were read out. Naked he lay on his back, the cold porcellain sending goosebumps to his skin. But he new, there would be a nice warm shower soon.

The men stood around him against the light, towering his body, so that he could only see their different outlines from his eyes, which were still sperm-smeared on both sides. In contrast to wanking, the men had no initial difficulties pissing and started immediately. His body was flushed with warm piss in all places at the same time and the trough below him quickly filled with it. The layer of semen in his face disappeared and he rubbed his hands over his chest and big belly, where the piss alone couldn't wash the big amount of semen out of his hair. Then he was turned onto his stomach and while the piss continued to flow over him and washed his back and ass, he lowered his head deep into the trough without being asked and licked the puddle in the tub beneath him made of urine and semen and sweat, drank from it and finally sank his face into the stinking mixture completely up to the hairline.

When he got up at the end of the round, his body was completely different. Shining golden, he stood in front of the crowd in all his glory, apart from his big balloon-belly, like an oiled bodybuilder. Manhor proudly raised his arms in a pose and cheered the crowd. He had forgotten what position he was in and what perversion he had endured. Standing in a cum- and piss-filled trough, having drunken anonymous piss and having smeared the jizz and urine of strangers all over his body he was far away from graceful. Still he enjoyed the approval, admiration, and attention of the crowd. As he continued to pose, the plug was pulled out of his ass and the pressure was released. An endless stream of whitish liquid shot from his ass into the trough like a bottle of champagne under pressure and washed around his ankles. His stomach smoothed slowly and the muscles pushed themselves out from under the somewhat tense skin. With disbelieve he watched the dirty liquid around his feet and smelled the strong odor of jizz and piss.

“It is now 3:00 am, penultimate lap. 5 winners can now play Punished Gladiator with our star. We have a couple of whips, clubs, blunt blades and a morning star. Chose your weapon and use it on him without hurting him. 61, 163, 187, 270 and 392 are the winners. Get the gladiator in position! "

Some helpers, apparently instructed beforehand, fastened slings around Manhor's ankles and arms while the winners stepped forward and scoured the arsenal. His upper body was also wrapped with a crossed rope construction. A steel frame descended from the ceiling and the ropes were passed through eyelets. Within four minutes the Arab was tied to the structure, which was again powered by a motor and brought him into a hanging horizontal position. His legs were pulled apart at the ankles and the soles of his feet pointed towards the ceiling. The wrists were also fixed like a crucified one and his upper body dangled down from the ropes that accented his chest in the air. To make it worse, his face was directly hanging above the filled trough so that the steams and aroma from the filling still got to his nostrils. And he couldn't prevent himself from inhaling long and deep, so that all the guests laughed at this depraved pig.

As if fate hadn't meant well for him in addition, all of the winners were very muscular and strong. Some of them even appeared to be taller than the Arab himself, although that was difficult to judge from his hanging position. The men were given Roman helmets and leather straps with rivets over their wide bare chests. Instead of trousers, they put on loincloths made of soft leather and slipped on sandals. So they looked like gladiators themselves. They stepped up to the hanging Arab and began to torture him. While one of the men gave him the first blows over the back and buttocks with a long leather whip from the side, just so hard that reddish welts formed on the skin and Manhor rolled around in his noose, another pushed the jagged ball of the morning star who was actually a flail in his bum. The sharp prongs pressed firmly against his anal walls, but seemed to do no damage, as his hole was well-dilated from the ordeal of the night and almost worn out. More lashes of the whip followed and, as a contrast to the pain, another winner pressed the blunt blades of two daggers under the soles of his feet and scratched with them, so that the Arab hung in his chains and shook himself in an alternating bath of laughing, screaming and wailing.

"Oh God, hahahahhhh, no more, stop, hoo hoh hoh, auaaaaaa, nooooo, PLLLLLEEAASEEE, not more, more, more solid, jeeeeaaaaahhh, haah haaa ...! Harder, punish me, stop, it hurts. Wreck me, make me bleed! Mercy!" He screamed incoherently and the second ball disappeared with its spikes in his ass followed by a wooden club that remained stuck in it to lock and wiggled out of his ass like a tail on the buttocks, while the stalk of the quarrel dangled from the chain below him next to his own cock. The daggers shifted, scratching his legs and poking his scrotum. The fifth had found a real morning star on which the approximately 8 cm diameter ball crowned on a stem. He pushed the ball between the screaming lips of the Arab, who couldn't believe that the prongs slipped between his lips and teeth into his mouth without injuring him or breaking his jaw. The blunt prongs of the ball pushed the flesh of his cheeks outward, giving his face a quirky asymmetrical shape. His screams were now silent and threads of saliva hung from the side of his stapled mouth, tears ran from his eyes and he tried not to move in spite of the attacks to avoid being injured.

The lashes continued. Smack, smack, smack. The tips of the daggers brushed his cock and pissslit and a sword slid like a razor blade under his belly, circling his nipples with the cold steel and sliding against his silent throat over the Adam's apple, while the jagged balls moved weighted by the dangling muds in his ass. His entire body ached from head to toe, and the man who had put the morning star in his mouth slapped him with a leather glove that was covered with metal eyelets, so that he thought one of the blunt spikes was about to break through and drill his cheek.

Time didn't seem to pass. The man behind him had taken off his helmet and brushed the feather headdress on his feet and inside of his thighs up to his ass, up and down, back and forth. The feeling was indescribable, because it took away all pain, his whole body and mind now concentrated on this tickling, caressing feeling in his abdomen and the lashes and spikes in his most vulnerable places were no longer there. His cock stiffened and splashed his juice over the blades of the daggers into a huge puddle on the floor.

When the half hour had finally passed, the torture weapon was carefully removed from his mouth, the metal spikes sticking to his teeth for a moment, and the Arab was lowered to the ground. The club was pulled out of his ass and he was instructed to force the bullets out by himself. He squeezed and squeezed as if he was giving birth to a baby, until the first ball with its prongs showed itself briefly in the opening of his rosebud, but then was sucked back again into the darkness of his hole. Two of the men took his hands and squeezed with him and this actually seemed to help, because the ball reappeared and now, hanging on the chain, slid glischigly from the mixed juices in his back and dripped onto the floor. A few more groaning attempts and he managed to press the second ball to the floor as well. Despite the restraints being removed, he lay shivering, crying and dazed on the floor in his spent sperm puddle for more than a minute and laughed.

"Surprise round. my dear guests! ”said Gerd at 3:30 am. “A final winner will now be drawn. He will complete the payment day. But only he will know what to do. While he is completing his mission, two donation containers will pass through. One of them is a cup for our piggy here, feel free to fill this with delicious cream. And the other is a piggy bank with a hole in its butt, please stuff it with a donation for the pig's master, who trained the sow so well. I can assure you that the more that comes together, the more interesting this round gets! Number 111 please come here! "

Before long the crowd parted around a man who appeared to be almost a head taller than Manhor. This tree trunk of a man was over six feet tall, had a chest that made the straps of his tank top look like silk threads and upper arms that were almost the same diameter as his skull. He wore wide cargo pants with a military print that, despite their wide cut, was stretched by the muscles in the ass and thighs.

"That's what I call a perfect candidate for this round, Rugantinho, my Brazilian bear, I hope you're really horny for that cunt!"

The giant stepped into the light and Manhor could see that not only did he look so dark because of his olive-brown skin, his body was completely covered with black thick hair up to the shoulders. His left arm was completely tattooed. In the area of the biceps there was the head of a gladiator, whose headdress of the helmet followed the round shape of the shoulders. All the flowing forms of his clothes, the drawn sword and the armor emphasized the course of his arm muscles, which were remarkable even for Manhor and astonished him. He had medium-length dark brown hair, the main hair of which was tamed back into a ponytail with a hair tie. Nevertheless, several thick strands of hair fell on his face, which made a dark, threatening impression due to the distinctive wrinkles, which indicated an age in his mid-40s.

"But of course, what can papi do for that piece of shit!" He grumbled and put one of his huge hands on Gerd, who looked like a toddler next to him. Gerd handed him a piece of paper and while the Brazilian read it, a nasty smile crossed his face.

"Since the pig is well lubricated, it should be easy for me!" He roared and the crowd applauded him despite not knowing what he meant by that in detail. While the first guests in front of his eyes wanked into the cup with lascivious looks directed at him, so that Manhor could see this humiliation, Rugantinho stepped closer to the Arab and stepped into his field of vision. Everything around Manhor now seemed to be hidden, like the Great Wall of China, it blocked everything around the Arab. The Brazilian brutally grabbed Manhor's chin with a hand that seemed to enclose his entire face and pulled his head up so that the Arab was pulled from his crouching position on all fours and was completely hanging with his upper body in the grip of the mountain of muscles. At that moment Manhor thought, the whole world only existed from this mountain of a man, it was the origin of mankind, his stench of beer and cigars, his dark skin, his breath, his black hair, his sweat, his jizz and his piss. Manhor even thaught that this man's vomit would be a feast. There was nothing else left around him than that man.

Rugantinho gave him a cheeky grin, spat in his face and pressed the side of Manhor's cheeks with his thumb and forefinger, so that his mouth had to open. With his thumb he rubbed his saliva over the pursed lips of the Arab, which presented themselves to him soft and full, then let his thumb penetrate deep into his mouth, while the former macho bodybuilder hung defenseless on his palm, and forgot everything around him except the finger to suck. Then Manhor was dropped back on his hands and the brasilian put two more fingers between the corners of his mouth, which he pulled wide apart. His calloused fingers felt Manhor's mouth as if he were a dog he was about to buy. He felt Manhor's biceps and assmuscles and grunted with satisfaction. Manhor also eyed the massive Latino attentively. Mentally he measured Rugantinho's biceps, compared them to his own and euphemistically thought that they were quite alike. But he knew that this muscle monster was far superior in size in any muscle group. The contours of this body were harder, more impressive, and more terrifying than Manhor could ever have dreamed of his own physiognomy.

The Latino assumed that Manhor was used to being admired, after all, he had a horny, good body and an angular masculine face, whose masculinity even the pussycat cut could not be denied. But Rugantinho wanted the Arab to learn what it felt like to be seen as a loser and a submissive, compared to his own attractiveness to become unconscious of the man in front of him and to feel completely inferior to this man. After searching Manhor's oral cavity, Rugantinho laid his large hand flat over the Arab's lips and covered his nose with two fingers of the other hand. Manhor tried to gasp for air, but only sucked on the scratchy skin of his new master. When he almost passed out, the Latino released his nostrils, reached into a pocket of his cargo pants and pulled out a bottle of poppers so quickly that it was denounced under Manhor's nose before he had even taken a second breath. Manhor unintentionally took two deep puffs of poppers stronger than any of what he had before and immediately felt its effect.

The Latino's hands slid down his torso and found his protruding nipples, pinched them painfully, twisting them to the right, then to the left. Manhor was determined not to scream, so he just bit his lip. He actually enjoyed the feeling of the strong, superiour hands on his skin. They were so warm, strong, and commanding. The warmth spread throughout his body down to his cock.

“Oh papi, yes, by Allah, I belong only to you. fill me with your baby cream to get prebnant with your precious offsprings. You are the creator, the absolute masculinity. I'm not worthy to feel your skin on mine or to carry out your babys. Plaese let me serve you anyway, master!” Manhor babbled.

The Latino suddenly let go of Manhor, didn't say a word to that but simply took two steps back to stand next to a chair and snapped his fingers as if asking a dog to sit down. Manhor obediently crawled over to him on all fours and looked up at this handsome, arrogant man in his serious face, despite his coarseness.

Rugantinho hooked his thumbs in his waistband and shoved his cargo on the floor, pointed at his fat tool with a fat juicy acorn and sat back in the chair, his hairy legs spreading on either side of Manhor's face.

"Lick my balls, bitch. Show me that you're worth it!"

Manhor looked up at the basballbat-cock, larger than he expected. The Latino's beercan lay soft and fleshy over his thighs and his hairy, rather large balls hung between his splayed dark legs. For a moment Manhor thought about burying his face in that soft, plump sack of meat and escaping the shame of his position here that evening. He would crawl between the large hairy balls and hide there from the crowd, live in this warm cave of masculin power, being surrounded by hair, cum and warmth of this god's skin. But an inner urge led him willlessly on to another goal. He stuck out his tongue slowly and began to lick the hairy scrotum, covering it with his spit. They were big, beautiful, plump balls that swelled up from the touch of his tongue, representing the enormous manhood of the Latino in front of him, and Manhor realized that he loved to lick them. He sucked them with eagerness, the effect of the poppers encouraging him, even though he felt less like a man in this position and more like a cheap whore, for Rugantinho had leaned back listlessly and lit a cigar as if he didn't care about the exertions of his puppy between his legs.

"Hey! Do you want this? Do you want to suck my cock, bitch?"

Instead of answering, Manhor just nodded.

"Then ask for it, Arab cunt! Beg for it as a pussy like you should! Show me a little more eagerness and devotion!" Rugantinho hissed and blew the smoke of the cigar in Manhor's face.

"Please, sir! Please fuck my mouth. I want your cum in my mouth! Rape my mouth, make me your cock bitch, sir. Sir. PLEASE!"

"That's right, bitch. Make your papi feel really good. Receive his juice as grace! Now suck my godlike cock!"

Without waiting for another request, Manhor leaned forward and swallowed the flaming head of the acorn in his moist, gaping lips. Rugantinho shuddered briefly when the tongue pressed demanding and searching into his piss gap. He grabbed the Arab by the hair and clung to it. The Brasilian spread his legs even further, forcing Manhor's mouth even lower on his cock, feeling the warm lips sliding down his shaft and spreading further around it. Then he closed his mighty lower legs around Manhor's shoulders to prevent him from going back.

Rugantinho's sack twitched and his cock tightened relentlessly in the damp walls of the relentless mouth of the Arab cocksucker at his feet. He felt Manhor's toungue gliding along his member, circling, trying to make roo for some air and relaxing again just to lick and serve his cock. As he felt his cum churning up the Brazilian painfully dug his fingers into the panting leak slave's skull

and unleashed a first short flood of hot sperm into the wet swallowhole.

Then he pulled out a condom from his pocket and yanked Manhor's sucking head from his cock.

"Come on, Arabcunt, put this on me, but woe to you using your hands!" He ordered.

He handed Manhor the extra Large condom and ordered him to put it in his mouth. Manhor did as he was told, then took the cock back into his open mouth and lowered his head deftly so that the condom rolled down the olive-brown shaft. You could almost have believed that the Arab would not have done anything else in his life, he rolled the latex over the big cock so professionally most other men couldn't have done it with their hands. When the monster of a cock was completely covered, Rugantinho pulled it out of his mouth again and audibly collected a big clump of snot in his throat. He spat a very generous amount on the palm of his hand and rubbed it over his cock.

“Now BOY,” Rugantinho emphasized the word deliberately in order to humiliate Manhor even more by the great age difference, “now your daddy is going to really clean your teenage face! Open it up wide, Daddy doesn't want to feel any teeth! "

Then the Latino struck again and raped Manhor's head like a juicy melon with a hole in it. He grabbed his ears and yanked the Arab's skull tight, pounding the face so that the skin clapped when he hit it, and Manhor's nose filled with the Latin pubic hair with every thrust. Then came more discharges, heavy full shots, of which Manhor counted at least six being collected in the latex cover.

Never before had such a large quantity been thrust into Manhor's mouth with such tremendous force. Shot after shot of his hot sperm filled the Arab's willing mouth. It was like being force-fed a liter of semen as the condom continued to fill and expand into a balloon in his mouth. He felt the fat, slowly slacking cock pulsing between his soft lips.

The mass that had been spat so violently into his mouth practically filled all of the free space in it and made him gag, as if there was any room in it because of the fat cock. But he couldn't taste the semen because it was in the condom, he just felt the warmth of it and in his drugged mind thought this was the nectar of Allah. He tried to swallow it all down, forgetting that the condom wouldn't allow it. He sucked and chewed like a madman on the latex, hoping to find a tiny hole in it. He wanted more and more, but his new master had other plans. Rugantinho's warm cock was pulled away from the soft wetness of his used sucking lips, although he continued to suckle it diligently. The massive Latino carefully took off the condom, brought it to the Arab's lips and put the open end to his mouth and pushed it between his lips.

“Hold it that way, let it dangle in front of your chin, my massive load, I still have a lot of it for my little girl! You can taste it later, chica!” he ordered. He pulled out the poopers again, took a big sniff himself and then pushed the bottle under Manhor's nose to fill his brain with drugged clouds. Kneeling down behind Manhor Rugantinho soon began working the soft sphincter with his fingers, while with the other huge hand he clutched the Arab's irritated genitals, squeezing and pulling. He pulled his slimy fingers out of Manhor's ass and swept his kinky forearm with the mixture of piss, cum and ass juices so that it sparkled and shone in the light.

"That should be enough as a lubricant!" He grumbled and began working on Manhor's hole again with his left hand. Manhor's delicate male fuck-pussy expanded around three of his fingers each one of them as big as an average cock, encircling the probing intruders. He tickled the slave's prostate and made him jerk and squirm. Then played with his asshole for a minute and, without warning, abruptly folded his thumbs in his hand and stuck his whole fist into the greasy male cunt. The fist felt huge, massive in its hole. Despite all the toys the Master had tried on him, with which he had prepared him for all this, he had never before been penetrated by anything that felt so massive, that was so incredibly big inside of him. A horses tail, even an elephant's trunk, would appear small in comparison.

Manhor's asshole yawned and pulsed around Rugantinho's arm as he began pounding the prostate and stimulating it with his fingertips. Manhor's insides went crazy and shaken with violent convulsions and his whole body shook as the arm fucked him and sunk deeper and deeper. His whole body was suddenly numb and Manhor didn't feel anything but crazed lust inside. The act of letting go of his resistance was overwhelming and he grunted and squeaked in orgasmic pleasure with the condom in his mouth.

“Yes please, daddy, fist me, give me all your muscles papi, let your slutty boy take it up to your shoulder!” he shrieked in his drugged mind, the words audible to anybody in the crowd that began cheering him.

The arm moved back and forth in his pussy, causing the most sensational feeling he ever had. Ashes from the cicar in Rugantinhos mouth fell on his buttcheeks. But he didn't care the burning feeling. All he knew at that moment, he was filled with the hand of god.

Rugantinho's right hand suddenly fell over Manhor's whimpering mouth. The fleshy fingers, smelling of tobacco and sweat, grabbed the dangling end of the condom and pushed the cooled sperm upwards. He began to push the clumps of white salty cream from the condom into Manhor's mouth.

"It's time, boy," he whispered. "You took it like a man, here comes your first reward."

Manhor was delirious and way too powerless to fight, try to resist, or spit. When he tasted the bitterness of the sperm, he swallowed it with pleasure, taking a deep breath through his nose from the stinking palm of the calloused hand that pulled out the empty condom and threw it on the floor.

With his mouth empty, Manhor was now able to vocalize his intense mixture of pleasure and agony even better. He yelled a loud scream into the astonished crowd. “Ohhhh, daddy, tear up my insides! Wreck my hole so I'll be limping for the next week!”

"Aaaawwwwwww Gawwwd Y-Y-eaaaahhhhh !!!" Sperm gushed back out of his throat and he burped some sperm, which dripped out of his mouth in small vesicles. "Yessssss! Fuck me with this fist Senor !!!!" A mixture of cum and piss flew from his trembling cock as he screamed this out and his bladder relaxed. "Fist me hard as I deserve it! Let my slave pussy squirt, papi! Make my asshole your sloppy cunt, sir! Tear me up, wreck me like a piñata!"

Rugantinho did not have to be told twice. The fist continued to push against the limits of the Arab's hole. It pressed against the decreasing resistance of the anal walls. Harder, harder. Manhor could feel his abused man's cunt getting bigger and wider and felt

how the fist was exerting even greater pressure on it, spreading it further

than ever before, wider than he ever thought possible. But still his hole seemed to close against the final penetration, so as not to give up completely. The fight went on. But inside Manhor was already the loser, because his spirit was defeated.

“A few weeks ago I had an asshole. It's a pussy now. I know this is true. Like every other pussy I've fucked, mine is now always open. It will no longer close, not in days, weeks, months. It will always be used. Always through a hard cock - or a sex toy - or something else thick, hard, long. It is no longer an asshole. Its main purpose is no longer the outlet to rid my body of its shit. Now it's an entrance. A way to fill my body with cum, piss, whatever you want. It's no longer an asshole. It is now a pussy, a man's pussy. "

As these thoughts shot through his mind, the fist just kept going deeper and deeper into his pussy. Behind the fist he felt even more of the strong muscular arm that continued to destroy his asshole where the fist had started. To Manhor it felt like a massive tree trunk was being driven into its hole. He thought that he could even feel the veins of the muscles at his insides. On the screen he could see for a moment what was done to him, how the arm had disappeared almost up to the elbow and he could hear the humiliating comments of the audience from the meager crowd, who watched the spectacle of his final humiliation and in turn hosed down in the cup.

The Arab's eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath through his nose. The fist slipped further into him and he thought he could feel every single hair on the Latino's muscle-bound forearm as it pushed down his ass as if it were studded with small barbs. And suddenly Manhor was crammed full of the brutal Latino's whole forearm up to the big biceps.

As the fist and arm forced their way deeper and deeper into the Arab's ass, noises came from his throat like a rubber duck. But in the end the fist also came to a standstill as the shoulder muscles of Rugantinho pressed at his cuntlips but didn't go further. The arm must have been intruded to his body completely. The fist was so deep inside him that it seemed to him as if his whole stomach was filled with the tree-trunk-like arm, just like with the piss and sperm enema an hour earlier. But this time it was not soft liquids but a warm, hard man's meat. The arm moved inside him and his whole body followed its instructions. Manhor had become the plaything of the fist and arm in him. With every movement of the fist in his bowels he gave a squeak and screamed sounds of happiness and pain.

"That's how I imagine the perfect ventriloquist dummy!" Laughed Rugantinho, "nice and soft inside and obedient!"

He had never felt so full before, not once after a sumptuous Ramadan meal with his family. He couldn't prevent his body content to gush out of all openings at the same time, from his ears, his cock, his nose, his mouth, only nothing would come out of his asshole at first, this was blocked with a monstrous arm, the arm of a stranger who played with him. Indeed, Manhor's tongue was drooling unconsciously from his mouth. Snot ran incessantly from his nose down his upper lip and down his cheeks, mingling with the frothy semen that was ejected from his mouth before. The snot hung like fringes in long threads from his jaw. A whitish-thin liquid, a mixture of piss and semen, also dripped from his cock which was to limp to piss or come.

He felt the fist slowly being withdrawn inch by inch. As Rugantinho slowly began to pull out his bulging arm Manhor tried in a frenzy to push his ass back on the withdrawing muscles, as he didn't want this feeling to end. But Rugantinho laughed and held his ass with his free hand and pulled his arm out slowly. When only his fist was stuck in Manhor, the Latino paused and spread his fingers once more. Then his fist left the ruined pussy and the hole remained open and pink, waiting, yawning for someone or something filling it again.

Someone approached from the side and shoved something into Rugantinho's cum smeared hand that had just raped Manhor's body. He heard a malicious laugh behind him and already felt the fist digging into the waiting hole again and penetrating him again, feeling even thicker than before. The second invasion came much faster than the first, and Manhor gasped for breath. His body was repossessed when the fist and forearm thrust deep and hard into him, only to immediately begin another retreat. Again and again the fist moved inside him, approaching the shreds of his shattered hole. And Manhor realized that he, the macho Arab, was just ruthlessly and brutally fucked by a fist and arm. And not only the arm was fucking the arab, he himself was rocking back at the intruder and fucking himself like crazy, screaming out his lust, letting go of every dignity he ever had.

Suddenly he felt the fist open again, deep in his bowels. When the fist tightened again and slowly began to withdraw from his body, he felt that something heavy had been left behind.

“This is your second reward!” Growled Rugantinho, a donation for your master!

Whatever it was, despite the widening of his anal canal, it weighed inside him. He felt like he had just eaten a whole calf.

The cup, almost full to the brim with sperm, was placed in front of his eyes. The mixed sperm of at least 50 guests billowed in front of his nose and exhaled its acrid, intense and yet enticing aroma.

“Gentlemen, we come to the grand finale! Your donations are all in the ass of the Arab pig. He will now push it out again for his master and let it fall into your juice in the cup. From there he just has to take out every note and every coin with his mouth!" The audience cheered and roared as Manhor knelt down with his ass over the cup and began to squeeze. Since his ass was still so lose from the fisting, the money slipped out like a cash cow along with various liquids without effort and landed splashing into the collected sperm. While he was sitting there pooping money, the huge Brazilian leaned down again and pressed his tongue deep into the arabs mouth. His sweaty hair fell forward and brushed Manhor's face and eyes, darkening his world, in which he shit money and sucked a tongue that tasted rough and bitter of coffee and tobacco and yet offered such an incredible fulfillment.

After Manhor's bladder was completely empty, the Brazilian broke the kiss and walked back into the crowd. "Enjoy your third reward!"

There was a pill in his mouth, probably a drug, but Manhor new too well to obey and just swallowed it. The pill immediately took effect and he turned around and stared at the stinking mass in the goblet to his knees , in which brown fragments from his innermost core floated. "Go, go, go!" The crowd cheered him on and he lowered his head to the edge of the cup. A roll of banknotes with a diameter of 4 cm was floating in it. He stuck out his tongue for it, but it slipped away. Then he tried to grab it with his lips, but the slippery surface could not be grasped and disappeared in the white liquid. Since the coins were on the bottom of the cup anyway, he lowered his face even lower until his chin and mouth and the tip of his nose drowned in the sperm broth and began to drink. Sip by sip, his stomach filled up again and the cup emptied down to the sperm-coated currency. He lifted his head halfway up to gasp and the audience saw a man of Arab origin with a face covered in semen, semen dripping from the ends of his hair, and semen running down his neck over his male chest, a man with one insane facial expression laughing and screaming at the same time and yet undeterred, to continue immediately and to lower his mouth into the white soup again. As his face touched the fresh sperm again he triumphed and shook his head in the bowl like a man dying of thirst in front of a lake.

It took almost ten minutes before Manhor had actually licked the cup empty of every drop and distributed the money on the floor next to him. Gerd collected it and stuffed it in a plastic bag. He gave Manhor his sweatpants and his light gray sweatshirt, but before he could put them on, Gerd stopped him.

"Don't be so quick, honey! You are the star of the evening and someone will definitely want to take away a memory of you! Who wants the sweaty sweatshirt of the Arab whore with an autograph? In this case a photo with him can be taken! "

Several hands shot up and amounts that were outbid like at an auction were shouted into the room. The hammer price ended at 158 euros. A slightly thicker, bald man in leather stepped forward and left Manhor's shirt with the words “I always spray for my horny Hans! Your pussy Manwhore “. He took a selfie with himself and the Arab's cum face and stepped back into the crowd with his purchase. The jogging pants even went to a younger, muscular guy with dark hair and a beard, who, despite his young age, apparently already earned well, or at least placed an incredible value on branded clothes and expensive watches. Here Manhor just had to put his signature on the right leg of the pants.

"If I work out in this, and believe me I won't wash them, I smell you, then I'll spray in your pants, just like I came in your ass, even if you don't remember me, my sperm are forever in you, move in you, are a part of you from now on. You are now Kadir's whore too! ”He hissed in Manhor's ear and took the selfie with the Arab's perplexed expression and his gleeful grin.

Gerd tossed Manhor a half-torn T-shirt and a gray-washed boxer short, both of which seemed much too small for him and rather belonged in the garbage can. When Manhor took it anyway and sniffed the stale sweat on it, he received a final instruction.

“You were messing around there on the ground!” Gerd scolded, “Clean the floor with the clothes, then you can put them on and your master will pick you up.” While some of the audience was already leaving the room yawning with fatigue, the Arab crawled across the floor under the gaze of the rest of the guests and mopped up the various juices. Towards the end everything just smeared because the T-shirt and boxer shorts were soaked in the water, cum, piss and whatever more. Even so, he struggled to pull the wet sticky material over his battered body. The seams squeezed into his muscles and flesh, yet he was glad he had a covering at all.

After waiting half an hour, his master came. He looked at his slave in the damp, smelly clothes, his face caked with semen, his arms smeared with piss and his ass still dripping slightly. Akshay laughed and put on the collar. Then he took the money from Gerd and the used empty condom of Rugantinho's rape. He pushed the latex into Manhor's hand.

“I see you had fun! You can keep your trophy, that's your tip, you've earned it, hahaha! And I made a lot of money with you tonight! I really hope for a sequel!"