[Reader: if you are sexually active, please use healthy precautions, be regular about medical check-ups, and only act with consent. Actions in this fantasy story do not carry consequences like they do in real life.]
This is a new sequel series called "Mandrasat II - priest slave". To have a much fuller account of what precedes this sequel, i strongly suggest that you read chapters 3, 4, 5, & 6 of Mandrasat on nifty.Org. Pete brown, in whose archive there this story is stored, has allowed me to contribute this sequel. A summary of those chapters is in the following paragraphs, marked "PROLOGUE".
Then, the chapter, "Fucked", commences without a break.
Prologue
Bret, a Roman Catholic priest ordained only two weeks before at the Vatican, in Rome, is captured at the London airport by Shareem, a very wealthy slave dealer from the Persian Gulf. Bret has been a captive for about ten days. During this time, he has been gang fucked by soldiers. His ass hole and fuck tube have been stretched wide to accommodate the huge cocks at Shareem's slave training compound called Mandrasat. Bret is now referred to and addressed only as "slave" or "priest slave".
His assigned overseer, Zarak, has been keeping track of the priest slave's reaction to taking cock up its ass. The slave has begun to slam its ass onto the cock invading it. By the second slam, with its hole stuffed full with a beating, throbbing cock, the expression on its face shows lust. The priest slave almost appears like it wants to fuel the fire that every cock ignites in it. It shoves itself against the rigid, rock-hard presence digging deeper and deeper into its ass.
From the first moment of its capture, the priest slave has been brutalized, being ass raped and mentally fucked by its overseer, by soldiers, and by smooth-shaven Nubian slaves during their morning "grooming" sessions. The priest slave has no experience in withstanding this sort of assault. Days of torture, drugs and hormones in its food, and fuck madness, have rendered it helpless and are overriding its past, its education, its training, its ambitions.
The only thing real now in its life, awake or asleep, is cock – cock stuffed in its mouth, cock crammed into its ass, cock in its dreams.
Another slave, a military pilot captured in a roadway in England, is also at Mandrasat. Before it became just "slave", or "pilot slave", its name was Jonathan Ballard. Together with the priest slave, it, too, has been subjected to all sort of humiliation and degradation several times a day since its capture.
Most recently, they were branded with a large S on their left buttocks. Large gauge rings were set behind their nipples and in the lobes of their ears. The pilot slave also needed to be circumcised. Their cocks and balls have been placed into permanent cinch cages, separating their penises from their balls, and separating their balls, one from the other. Their cocks now are always at least semi-hard and clearly displayed.
From the beginning, they were denuded of all body hair, even their eyebrows, and a chemical was applied multiple times to prevent any of it from ever returning. They are like worms, completely hairless and smooth.
Neither of them had ever had sex with a man before being captured. The "Roman priest", as it is sometimes called by its Arab captor, had not ever had sex. The pilot had had his share of nights with women, but never with another man. After the past days and its torture, along with near constant orgy sex directed at them either together or individually, they are both losing their bearings.
They are to be in a hard regimen of physical training until their brands and thick nipple and earrings heal. It will begin with being run for ten miles every morning. They will work out with trainers for several hours during each day. After about four months, if they are adequately healed, they will be placed on hard labor gangs.
Until then, their daily life will be as it has been up until now with the addition of being taught at least to understand Arabic basics. If they prove capable, they will be taught more of it.
Their overseers, the soldier-guards, and the Nubian groomers will be free to use them as they wish, with warnings to leave their healing brands, their nipples, ear lobes, and the pilot slave’s cock alone until the doctor says otherwise.
Chapter I – Fucked
Four months have passed. The doctor has said that their nipples and brands have healed enough for the priest slave and the pilot slave to be put on hard labor work gangs in the oasis farm fields near the Mandrasat training compound. After some months their work in the sun will see their naked bodies become even more muscled than they already are and well-bronzed. The overseers want to add to their already formidable bodies many more pounds of solid muscle so that they will bring the highest price possible at auction.
They are both continuing to be run with the physical trainers every morning before eating their portion of slave swill and their daily labor in the sun. For now, they are still to stay the nights in their overseers’ rooms. So, they are groomed by the Nubian slaves each afternoon, after work. Their overseers, Zarak and Kasim, do not want the filthy smell of the labor gangs in their rooms or beds.
Master Shareem has directed the overseers to make sure that when the newly captured slaves are allowed to speak, they are never to refer to themselves as “I” or “me”, nor to use words like “my”. They are always and only to say things like, “this slave” if referring to themselves, or “this slave’s cock,” or “this slave’s . . . whatever-it-might-be”.
Each night, Zarak schools the priest slave by fucking him hard and deep. Sometimes he teases its prostate. He loves to hear it moaning and see how eagerly it thrusts its ass back onto his erect prick as he fucks it. The slave quickly learned to kneel in front of him to take his stiff member into its mouth to clean it as soon as Zarak pulls out of it. To Zarak’s surprise, doing this quickly started to keep its cinched cock straight and stiff. it has no problem at all producing plenty of drool to help it with its cock cleaning task.
Every morning for the last months, my overseer, Zarak, calls me from my place on the floor at the foot of his bed when he wakes up. “Come, slave. Tend my hard cock” he tells me. For the first weeks after my capture, I dreaded this. As time is passing, though I don’t like admitting it to myself, I have started to be eager for it. I kneel each morning beside his bed, and I anxiously take Zarak’s huge erect penis into my mouth. Once I have sucked him dry, swallowing all his juice, he sits up with his legs over the side of the bed. I open my mouth wide to receive his piss. I had to learn this. At first, it didn’t go well. Now, though, my overseer fills my open mouth, tells me to swallow, and then again to open. Once his bladder is empty, my own cock is hard and has been leaking ever since beginning the morning ritual. I have learned to bend over and lick up the puddle of my own precum while Zarak watches.
After being gone a few weeks, Master Shareem returns to the Mandrasat compound with Tariq, the manumitted, now freeman, former slave. They have been away securing new stock to be trained and auctioned.
In his meeting with the overseers, Shareem asks, "How have the priest slave and the pilot slave progressed?"
Zarak smiles broadly and reports, "My charge is losing its past. I can see the lust for cock in its eyes -- in its whole body -- whenever it thinks it may be going to have one of its holes filled! When I lead it by its cock to the Nubians, both its cock and its mouth now drool! Once there, it kneels in their midst, mouth open, with its hands reaching for their erect pricks. it willingly exposes its asshole to receive the first of their erect cocks to tease it."
"Very good. I am surprised how quickly some of them break. It says much about our training here at Mandrasat.
“Judging from what Zarak says about his charge and its cravings for cock, it may be that the mind-fucking of that one is already ahead of plan.”
Kasim volunteers, “Master Shareem, we have watched how the two of them fight for their food every day at the trough. They do it as a team. One of them protects the other, fighting while it eats. Then, they switch. They fight strongly.”
"Very interesting," Shareem replies. "Even though they may already be losing their balance in many ways, they do not overlook their ability to struggle – and even to plot – for what their instincts tell them is most basic. – food! And – the priest slave’s craving and drooling for cock at any time that it believes it may have one in either of its holes – that tells me its mind is already being more correctly centered where I wish it to be. It has occurred faster than I had hoped!"
For the next six weeks, that is the way things stay. The priest and pilot slaves are regularly fucked by Zarak or Kasim and they give their overseers head. The Nubians and guards continue to be allowed to have free access to them.
Each morning for the last month and a half, the pilot slave and I are made to take a long run with the trainers. Then, we join the labor gang for many hours. In the afternoon, we return and the Nubians groom us. I can hardly wait to get to them. I want to feel their tongues all over my body, licking me, sucking on my nipples, chewing at them, sucking my cock and fucking my ass . . . and me doing all of the same things back to them. Our smooth bodies slide over each other’s easily, and it feels . . . good!
Zarak continues to note the priest slave’s growing liking for cock, as he has from when it first began to happen. He saw it as a very good sign that Mandrasat was definitely showing results with this slave – and more quickly than he would have thought. Over the weeks he has seen that the slave’s desire for cock with the Nubians is more and more extreme. it is hard, leaking, and drooling every single time that it is led in for its grooming. This makes Zarak laugh every time he sees it. He has taken to telling it daily, “Oh, priest slave. I see what you worship now!”
When I think that there might be a cock inside me, I realize that I now crave for it. I want one in my mouth so that I can feast on it and drink its juices. I want one in my asshole, to feel it filling me and making my own penis erect and leaking. When the Nubians groom me, I want their hands and lips exploring every inch of my body. I want my cock inside their bodies, too.
When we are finished being groomed, our overseers lead us back to their rooms. They use our semi-hard cocks like handles. It makes mine throb and grow again after it has softened some following the Nubians’ taking care of it. My mouth and my cum slit both drool the whole time.
Once back in Zarak’s room, I kneel down, open my mouth, and stick out my tongue to feel his cock being laid on top of it. I suck him, but I don’t make him cum. I am happy that he wants to save that for my asshole. When I come off his erect penis in my mouth, I turn and put my forehead to the floor, anxious for Zarak to kneel behind me and fuck me . . . as he says, “like a bitch”. Many nights after a first round, the overseers will switch the pilot slave and me to the other overseer’s room – for their second of many rounds. Sometimes they both enter my hole together with both of their thick erect penises. I love my cock being hard and the overseers’ erect penises inside my mouth and my asshole. What has happened to me? How can this change be? What am I . . . now? Can I think of myself as a priest anymore? If I am a slave, am I even a man? If I am a slave, what am I worth?
Zarak's observation about the priest slave is right. It wants to fuel the fire that every cock ignites within it. it shoves itself back against the thrusts of any rigid, rock-hard cock present in its asshole. When it is fucking the Nubians, it digs deeper and deeper into the hole it is furrowing.
One morning, Kasim tells Shareem, "We are anxious to see them in the gladiator pit, Master Shareem."
"Hmm. The fighting pit. This is due to your observations of them at the feeding trough?"
"It is, Master Shareem. They are big and they are strong. They not only fight. They think. As a team they would fuck many vanquished fighters."
"I will have to give that some thought. I have not decided yet what specialty trainings I will choose for those two. I have decided, though, that since the doctor says they are healed enough to do so, that they will no longer be sleeping in your rooms, Zarak and Kasim. Tonight, they will start to stay their nights in the stable with the other labor slaves.”
So, that night, instead of being led back into Zarak’s and Kasim’s quarters, the pilot and priest slaves are led first to the feeding trough – where they must fight for a place to slurp up the swill. Then, they are led to the stables. Each slave is chained to a loop on the wall in a huge circular shaped stall. The chains are at about ten-foot intervals all the way around it. The chains, each about eight feet long, are attached to their collars. This makes it possible for any slave to have contact with the ones on either side of it, but no groups can form.
Each of the two new residents in the barn have become well used to being fucked and giving head, and – in the grooming area – they also fucked and were sucked. The immediate interest in doing the same things from the slaves on either side of them is no surprise. The two of them are not chained next to each other. While the pilot priest is still generally on defense when it comes to these encounters, the priest slave has for many weeks now been losing itself in its willingness to take part.
It immediately drops to its knees in front of the slave to its right, opening its mouth and licking its lips. The neighbor loses not a second. it grabs the priest slave’s bald head and rams its turgid cock into its mouth. There is no slow working up the pace. The slave ferociously face-fucks it. The priest slave is slurping and just as aggressively attacking the hard penis in its mouth. it is drooling and moaning, anxious to prolong the encounter.
While this is happening, the slave chained to its other side approaches behind, kneels and thrusts its cock into the priest slave’s asshole. its immediate response is to thrust its ass back toward the invading cock, timing its thrusts with the ones invading its hole.
The priest slave is in ecstasy. It seems that not only any inhibitions from its former life have vanished, but that it is acting like it has no memory of any code of behavior other than the one it has adapted to under the guidance of the Mandrasat slave training regimen.
Once the two that were spit roasting the priest slave shot their loads of juice into it, it stands up, cum dripping from each corner of its mouth and down the inside of its thighs. it turns to the slave that had been behind it. Facing it, it motions for it to spin around. Then, the priest slave drops to its knees and proceeds to guide its own hard cock into the waiting hole in front of it. The priest slave is not a gentle fucker. it is fast and strong with the pace in which it enters and almost, but not quite, exits the hole, burrowing back in hard with each forward motion. Finally, with a roar, it releases its semen into the other slave.
For the next half hour or so, the priest slave lies back and rests, fondling its semi-hard member. Then, it rises to its knees and looks to each side. The slave it had not fucked is also on its knees. The priest slave motions for it to turn its ass toward it . . . and then it moves toward the waiting ass and begins to pound it just as it had the one on its other side. Even though it has been not even forty-five minutes since it last cummed, it does so again – a large load spewing into the ass it is fucking.
All of this is being recorded on the viewing system that Shareem has set up in all of the stalls. He wants to be able to study, at his leisure, the aggressiveness or lack of it, of each of his captured trainees.
This proves to be the increasingly “normal” behavior of the once-a-priest-slave. It interests Master Shareem greatly . . . but, it also causes him some concern. The plans he is developing for this slave’s training will require something more than just being aggressive in its behaviors. Nevertheless, Shareem is more than pleased with how quickly and how far the man who had boarded the airplane with him in London has fallen in the face of all the tactics used in his training center.
Shareem says to Tariq, “I am thinking about training options for the priest slave. Since it and the pilot slave have shown a skill for working together to secure their food at the labor slaves’ feeding trough, fighting off the others as a team, Zarak and Kasim want to see them in the gladiator pit. What do you think, Tariq?“
He says, “Master, when I first saw the priest slave at the airport in London on the day you took him, that was not the thought that came to me. Not at all.”
“Nor was it mine on that day. But, the overseers do have a point. Selling them – or keeping them and just entering them into the pit fights – would bring a lot of money either for their auction price or simply for their winnings.”
“That is true, Master. But, since you have asked me for my thoughts, I would hate to see their nipple holes for their large rings torn through – or the ones in their ears, either. The scars left by that would make them worth maybe a tenth of their worth as they appear now. Especially the priest slave is beautiful to look at. That was so even to begin with, when it was still the Roman priest. Now, having lost all its body hair, being built up and bronzed by labor in the desert sun, and decorated with the rings, it is even more so.”
“You are right about that priest slave. Perhaps I should enter the pilot slave into gladiator training but train the priest slave as a pleasure slave. A rich buyer wanting to impress his friends with a slave that is not only a white one but who was a Roman priest would pay dearly at the auction.”
Tariq thought a few moments. Then he said, “Master, I think that you might consider selling him to one of the very high-end brothel owners. There is one man who owns several of them. His stock ranges from the cheap to the exclusive in each of his locations. He moves stock around from time to time so as always to have new treats on the menu for his customers at each of them.”
Shareem nodded his approval, saying, “I like the way your mind works, Tariq. The idea of seeing it becoming a seductive whore is not only intriguing . . . it is compelling to me. Even considering it is making my cock thicken.
“Ahh, Tariq. It was a great boon the day I first saw you! At first sight, I thought about how to take you, to capture you. You are such a fine specimen of virility. But, for some reason I do not know, I held back. I wondered if we could be friends instead. And, so we became. Very good friends. You came to know me and my businesses – even the details of this slave business. I began to confer with you for advice.”
“Yes, Master. It was a good day for me, too, when first we met. When I found out about how extensive your slave business is, as you now know, I rather quickly decided that I desired to be one of them . . . one of your slaves.”
“When you announced that to me, Tariq, I was stunned. I had no inkling beforehand that you were thinking that. Yes, I asked you if you fully appreciated what that would mean – that you would be my property completely. You would have to obey me absolutely. You said that you did.”
Tariq continued, “So you told me to consider it carefully and to talk with some of your oldest overseer slaves – ones who have been owned by your family before you became owner of it all. I did so – especially with old Ahsan. He told me that you could be a harsh man. He said that he had never been the object of your fierceness, but that he had seen it. He warned me that I would have to love you enough to risk everything were I to join him in slavery here.”
“Ahh, yes. Ahsan. I was sorry to see him die. He had been here since before I was born. I had never known a time when he was not part of my father’s household. He was almost like a grandfather figure for me, even though he was nothing but a slave.”
Tariq said, “After talking with him, I decided to tell you I still did want you to take me as your slave . . . but with a new aspect as part of my submission. I still wanted it, if you would consent then to partially manumit me, making me a freeman of sorts – but still having obligations to my Master.”
Shareem hesitated, thinking. Then, he said, “Yes, you did. I warned you that even in your case, and even if I consented to manumit you afterwards, it would mean the branding of the slave’s S on your ass cheek and the permanent removal of all your pubic hair. I told you that I would leave your other body hair, as I like the way it emphasizes your virility!”
Tariq said, “I had been prepared from the first desire to be your slave to have a mark declaring it on my body, Master.”
“So, to volunteer yourself into slavery, you came to me in the grand hall at midnight on the appointed date. I was there alone, on the seat of judgement. You came and made your request. You then were required to disrobe completely and to kneel with your forehead to the floor. Three times I asked, ‘Do you wish to be my slave?’ Three times you answered, ‘Yes, Master. I so wish’.”
Smiling, remembering that night, Tariq said what happened next. “I then stood up and approached you. You had your hands extended with your palms up. I came and placed my balls in your palms. You asked again, ‘Do you wish to be my slave?’ I said that I did. You released my balls. Then, I placed them a second and a third time back into you open hands. You asked, and I answered the question again. On the third time, you gripped my balls and pulled me down into a kneeling position in front of you. You commanded me, ‘Turn around to be fucked by your new Master.’ I did so.”
Shareem said, “Indeed, you did. I tried to make it the gentlest fucking I had ever done, too! When I finished, I did not even have to tell you to turn around and clean my cock. You did so, and you brought it back to full erection with your mouth.”
Tariq said, “Master, I have never regretted my enslavement to you.”
“And, I have always been amazed that you asked me to allow it. I have valued having you as my manumitted slave, my executive assistant in my businesses, and my best scout for new stock!
“Well, enough reminiscing. What shall I do about the priest slave’s next step in training?”
“I still favor him as a pleasure slave, a trophy for a very rich Master . . . or, as a brothel whore. The idea of the Roman priest ending as a whore is one that brings a great smile to my face, Master.”
“And to mine, too, Tariq. I think that is what it will be. I will train it to be the principal draw in a stable of male whores for men!”
Laughing, Tariq observed, “I can imagine an advertisement that says, ‘Come! Be seduced by a Roman priest-whore slave’!”
A few weeks later, after Shareem had been regularly monitoring the recordings of the priest slave’s sexual activity in the stables as well as with the Nubian groomers, he decided it was time to advance to the next stage of preparation for this one of his captures.
After the slaves had gone to the fields to labor on that day, Shareem called for Zarak and Kasim to come to his office. When they arrived, he told them, “I have considered your thoughts about the pilot and priest slaves being trained in the fighting pit. I have decided that the pilot slave will be taken there to begin training for combat tomorrow. Have the Nubians thoroughly clean it after it returns from work this afternoon. Then, Kasim, you are to deliver it to the fighting slaves overseer.
“As for the priest slave, I have decided it will be trained as the most exotic of pleasure slaves. It will bring a huge price at auction when the stock description includes in its provenance what it was before being taken! Imagine the desire to have such a trophy – a Roman priest made into a male whore for other men! How rich! Zarak, after its work today, you will have it washed completely – both outside its body and inside – and then you will take it to Tariq.
“it will become the most different thing from anything it could ever have imagined was in store for it just some months ago. it thought it was going to learn languages and spread the word about its god. Now, it will learn languages . . . but they will be languages of the body, and what it spreads will be physical pleasure to customers that pay its owner for its use!”
Zarak and Kasim looked at one another disappointedly but knew better than to question any decision that their Master made. They had already been making wagers about outcomes in the gladiator pits if the two slaves were coupled as a pair of fighters there – or if they were pitted against one another. Now, that was not to be.
Having decided it is time to start working on the next stage of the priest slave’s training, Shareem tells Zarak to turn over all of the notes he has taken about it to Tariq.
As Shareem walked back to his residence wing, the thought of language came back to his mind. He had just spoken of body languages to Zarak and Kasim, but – what about Arabic? The slave would need to learn more than a work slave – enough to understand the orders of men that it would service. He would tell Tariq to begin increasing the amount it was taught. it had studied a great deal and even had been planning to learn other spoken languages. This would not be a problem, he was certain.
A few hours later, Shareem is aroused at the thought of once again having the priest slave on its knees performing its salaam to him and his body. He decides to go to Tariq’s quarters where it has been led by Zarak, using its stiff cock like a handle.
With Zarak still present, upon Shareem’s entrance, the priest slave immediately drops to its knees in front of the Master. its hands are on the floor on either side of its head, palms down, its ass pointed up in the air. Shareem says, “Honor your Master, slave.” With that, the priest slave crawls the few feet to Shareem’s feet and kisses and licks each of them. Then, it rises onto its knees and kisses the tip of his cock. it lingers on it with lips parted and its tongue licking the cum slit. Next, it kisses each of his balls.
Shareem looks down on it and says, “You are a lusting piece of white shit, slave. Look at you. Your suck hole and your prick hole are both leaking at the sight of your Master’s cock! Where has that Roman priest gone . . . that one who was sitting next to me on that airplane just some months ago?! Answer me, slave. Tell me what you are and where that other man has gone.”
The priest slave, still with its gaze fixed on Master Shareem’s cock, responds, “I am . . . “ Shareem slaps it across its face with the back of his hand with enough force to have knocked sideways a less well muscled man.
He says, “A slave does not say ‘I’. You are an ‘it’, like any other chattel or thing that a I own and use. Call yourself ‘this slave’, not ‘I’. And – when you address me, you never use ‘you’. You say ‘Master’. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master. I – this slave – understands, Master.” “Then, tell me the answer to my questions, slave.” it replies, “Master . . . this slave is nothing before you – no – its Master. it is its Master’s property.”
“And that Roman priest? What has happened to him?” “Master, this slave knows that it was that man. No longer, Master. Now, that man is gone . . . replaced, as Master says, by a ‘lusting piece of white shit’, Master.”
Shareem smiles. He places his hand on the slave’s head, the signal that he wants to be serviced. Without a second’s hesitation, the priest slave’s mouth moves back to its Master’s semi-hard penis, first licking its head and then taking it into its mouth, closing its lips tightly around it, and sucking it hard while teasing its slit with its tongue. Then, it comes off the head and runs its tongue along the underside of Shareem’s now fully hard cock. After a few repeats of this, the slave takes the entire erect penis into its mouth and begins sucking it, holding it tightly in its mouth. It begins to move up and down on it, drawing it deeper and deeper into its suck hole each time. Finally, the cock’s head is in its throat. The slave has long lost its gag reflex. Having sucked so many cocks so many times in its months at the Mandrasat training camp has taught it well. Shareem is guiding the slave’s head back and forth on his hard cock. This continues for about ten minutes, and then Shareem arches his back and begins thrusting his hard penis forward. On his third push, he roars in pleasure as he unleashes streams of cum down the priest slave’s throat. The slave has some in its mouth, too, but does not lose a drop of it. The only liquid on the floor is from the priest slave’s own cock. The slave is so aroused that it has had a steady leaking of pre-cum. When the Master comes out of his slave’s mouth, he notices the slave's pre-cum leakage and orders, “Slave, clean that puddle from the floor.” it knows that means to do so with its tongue. it lowers its head to the floor and licks it up.
“Ah, slave,” Shareem says, “yes, indeed, I think that the priest on the airplane would never do what you have just done. He is really gone. He is replaced by the suck slave before me now. Am I correct, slave? Answer!” “Yes, Master. He is gone. This slave is now in his body.”
“And,” Shareem asks, “what is your purpose, slave?” it replies, “its only purpose must be to serve and obey. it is the property of its Master.” Shareem is again smiling and says, “Your overseer has trained you correctly, Roman cocksucker slave! But, there is still much more you must learn before I sell you at auction.
“Now, before you are taken from my presence, stand, turn around, and bend over. Show me how you offer your asshole to your Master for him to fuck it.” The slave does as it is told, bending over and reaching around to hold its ass cheeks apart, its hole opening and closing in anxious anticipation of what it knows – and wants – -to be about to happen. Shareem fingers the puckering hole. Zarak has approached with a vessel of oil, which he offers to Master Shareem to use to slick his cock. Zarak then dips his fingers into the oil and reaches into the slave’s asshole first with one oiled finger, then two, then three, opening and lubricating it for the Master to fuck it.
Shareem chooses to enter the slave slowly. He moves all the way in, and then draws back, nearly coming out altogether. He sets himself a steady, slow rhythm, in and out. The priest slave is moaning. The Master is enjoying the tight hole in which his engorged cock is being pleasured. After a quarter of an hour during which time Shareem builds up to cum a second time after having just done so in the slave’s mouth, picks up his pace. He has noticed that the priest slave is matching each of his forward thrusts with his pelvis with its own push backwards onto his hard member. The priest slave is a lustful one, all right. When it is time to cum a second time, Shareem again roars with delight and plows full force into the asshole he is fucking. He stays there, his pubic hair up tight against the smooth ass of the slave he is fucking . . . and, he again shoots a rope of his cum into the welcoming hole of the joyfully moaning priest slave. When he finishes, he orders the slave to clean his cock with its mouth . . . and again to clean the puddle of its own leaking pre-cum on the floor beneath it.
Shareem leaves. The slave is still on all fours in Tariq’s quarters with Zarak standing to the side. As he walks away from Tariq’s rooms, Shareem is smiling both due to the pleasure he has just taken and in thinking about his further training plans for this former Roman priest’s future.
I have just proclaimed to Master Shareem that I am gone . . . that the Roman priest is no more. But, I am still here. Yet, I only live because the Master wishes it. I – no – this slave lives to serve and obey. Is that not what I always believed . . . ! I must serve and obey? Yet, it was not to serve Master Shareem – or whomever he sells me to. No, not at all. I am – I was? – a priest! My mind . . . my body . . . I am so unsure. What AM I?
To Be Continued.
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