[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.]
Prick & Mancunt
Been many days now we haven’t seen Anil. We keep getting fed and watered, so we’re not forgotten. It’s funny . . . I haven’t thought a lot about getting free. I just think about Rod’s body. When we’re not at it, we’re at least playing with each other’s dicks or our own.
Another day. After our food. Anil’s showed up. He’s telling us to stand facing him. Like always if it’s not hanging around his neck, he’s twirling his gem stone on the leather cord.
“I have been observing you. You have progressed . . . as I predicted you would. Now, we will move another step in your preparation. Follow me.”
He’s leading us through the doorway and into the hall. This is the first time since we woke up here that we’ve left the cage room. I want to make a run for it . . . even though I’m naked. Something’s holding me back from doing it, though. At the first doorway on the right, Anil turns in. We follow. It’s a bare room with a shower head in the middle of it. To one side is a long table, like in an operating room. There’re a couple other smaller tables with things I can’t quite make out on them. Everything’s on wheels.
“Yonee, go sit by that wall. Chubhan lie on the table.” I’m doing it. It’s cold. “My attendant will now shave your body completely. You will lie still and allow him to do so.”
Again, I want to make a run for it. I can’t move from where I’m at, though.
Loin cloth guy is taking an electric razor and starting with my head, he is buzzing off all the hair that it can cut off. Now he’s moving to my arm pits and on down to my chest and stomach . . . and my pubic hair. He’s finished my legs, and he tells me to turn over. He’s doing all the same to the back of my head and body as he did to the front. Now, he’s making a lather in a bowl and spreading all over the back of my body . . . and reaching for a straight razor!
He’s finished now, back and front of my body. I can’t see myself. There’s no mirror, but when I look down, I’m just skin. No hair – none at all. My cock looks a lot bigger. Balls do, too. I put my hand to my face and over my head. I don’t even have eye brows.
“Shit, Anil. Why the fuck you do this to me? I don’t feel like a man this way.”
“You are not a man, Chubhan”, he says.
“What the fuck! Whaddya mean by that?!” He’s staying quiet. I feel the urge to move toward him and hit him . . . but, I can’t. I cannot move in his direction – only toward where Yonee is at. I find myself thinking of him by that name now . . . and of myself as Chubhan.
All this time, Anil has been sitting quietly along the wall to the left of where Yonee’s been waiting for his turn. Yonee’s eyes are big looking at me, but he’s not saying anything.
Anil says, “Yonee, go lie on the table. It is your turn.”
We’re both hairless now. Anil tells us to come to the center of the room. He has a bowl filled with some kind of cream-looking stuff.
“Ladakon, dip your hands into this bowl and spread the cream all over each other’s bodies. Do not miss any place. You now know each other’s bodies completely. Apply it everywhere, even around your arseholes.”
I’m doing like Anil said. So is Yonee. This is weird. Doing this to each other’s bodies is getting both of us hard. As we face each other creaming up each other’s cocks, we’re looking in each other’s eyes and we’re both smiling big. Yonee turns around and bends over so I can get at his ass. I finger him as I’m putting the cream between his cheeks. Then I turn my ass toward him, and he does me. My cock jumps when he fingers me.
Anil tells us to go and sit against the wall again. He leaves. We just sit next to each other and play with each other’s dicks. For some reason – even though we’ve just had the weirdest thing done to us – we’re not talkin’.
I don’t know how long it’s been, maybe an hour. Anil’s back. He gives us each a yellow looking sort of soap bar and tells us to go stand under the shower head. He turns it on from the wall and tells us to wash each other completely – to get all the cream and any left over lose hair off of us.
For the last few weeks, each day Anil comes in, takes us to the room, gives us the cream, and we do like we did that first day. The rest of our days are like they were before. We just have sex. Lots of sex.
I’ve discovered that I especially like the feel of Yonee’s cock in my ass, and it seems like he mostly wants to suck mine. Maybe Anil should have named us the other way around. He’s gotten better and better at it. Don’t know how he figured out that he could make his vocal cords stimulate it, but he did. Love it when he does that. When he’s in my ass, he knows right away just where to rub to hit my prostate. We’re both okay at rimming, but neither of us is especially big on it. We’d much rather fuck or suck.
On this day, Anil comes back into the cage room with us after our shower. He calls loin cloth guy, and he rolls in a big mirror. It’s like the kind that’s in old style bedrooms.
“Ladakon, each of you look at yourself. You have been seeing the other one’s, but not your own, body. What do you see?”
I’m looking. My mouth falls open. While it’s true I look pretty much just like Yonee, it’s different knowing I’m looking at my own self! I’ve probably lost a good 30 lbs. And, my skin’s several tones tanner than it ever was. Everywhere. My shaved head. My face. My whole body right down to my feet. I guess I hadn’t noticed till now because I haven’t been seeing the whole picture . . . the whole me. And, I can see that my cock and balls look way smaller than when I first got shaved.
Why haven’t I noticed that in all our sex play? Has Yonee’s dick shrunk, too? Yonee’s right next to me. The expression on his face is same as mine.
He just says, “Shit! I’m little! And, I’m darker. I look like I’ve been on the beach all this time. My junk is littler, too!”
Yonee yells at Anil, “What’ve you done to my cock?! My cock and my balls?! They’ve gone small!”
“Yes. You both are smaller now . . . in all ways. Little by little you are beginning to look like I wish.”
Again, I’m wanting to attack Anil . . . to shout at him . . . to curse him. But – again – I cannot. All I can do is stay frozen. I can’t make any move on him.
“Why you want us to look like this, Anil? What’s the point. We don’t even look healthy. We look scrawny.”
“If you looked like you did before, it would not be acceptable in your new lives.”
“There’s that ‘new life’ bullshit again,” I tell him. “I told you the first day you talked to us, I’m not in for any ‘new life’. My old one’s fine.”
“That decision has already been made. I am only your teacher and the one assigned to assure that you appear as you must.”
Yonee asks, “Just what you mean when you say ‘new lives’ for us? What’s that all about? Tell us.”
“Ladakon, you will discover that in time. It is not to be told to you.”
He’s just talking in circles. We don’t get anything outta him. He just tells us what to do and watches us while he’s spinning that trinket of his. Useless!
“Follow me into the shower room, ladakon.”
When we get there, there’s a pretty big Indian man in there. He’s got a longish beard, and he’s dressed like a normal Indian on the street who likes to wear sort of traditional clothing. I can see a lot of tattoos on his arms and even his neck.
Anil looks at me, “Get up on the table, Chubhan.” I do it.
“This is Mr. Laghari. He is a tattoo artist.”
Tattoo artist? On me? My body? I don’t think so. I start to move toward Anil. I get about a step . . . but, then something inside me stops me. It’s like I can’t attack him.
Anil smiles at me. “I see you are not happy about being tattooed. It has been decided. You will adapt to being so. Just as I told you how you two would be unable to leave each other’s bodies alone, so do I tell you this.”
Yonee is quiet. I’m just standing here, frozen.
“Chubhan, get on your stomach on the table.” I HAVE to do it.
It’s a couple weeks (I think) since we got tattooed. Between our shoulder blades and on each of our foreheads are our names in Hindi. On Yonee’s it’s
आदमी योनी. On me it’s चुभन. When Anil gave us these ‘Mancunt’ and ‘Prick’ names I hoped maybe it was just to insult us. Now, there’s no doubt what’s planned for us. Don’t know by who. Don’t know if it will be with each other. Don’t know NOTHING. It all just sucks! But, WHY?
Anil’s brought in a large video screen and set it up on one wall. He says we gotta learn more about male sex. Videos . . . all of men having every sort of sex with other men. Watching makes Yonee and me really hard.
Anil’s kept us locked in separate cages while the tattoos healed. He told us when he put up that screen today that it’s been long enough. He’s freeing us to be together.
Right away after seeing the videos, we’re trying out what we’ve watched. All kinds of shit. We like doin’ it. Even though our cocks and balls are littler than they were when we got brought here, we can still use ‘em. Maybe it’s because our whole bodies are smaller, too.
Lately, another strange thing has been happening. Both Yonee and me are having trouble saying what we want to say. It’s like our tongues can’t form words right. I can think of them. I just can’t say them. Our tongues feel heavy in the bottoms of our mouths and won’t lift up. It only happens when we try to talk. Not when we eat or suck or kiss or rim. Noises come out . . . but we just sound like we have a mouth full of mush. We’ve started using our hands to point, draw pictures in the air, move our bodies . . . things like that to let each other know what we want.
Don’t know how Anil’s doing this, but I know it’s gotta be him.
Today Anil has just arrived. Loin cloth guy is carrying a bunch of cloth. Anil tells him to give it to us. Just looks like two strips of cloth. Anil tells him to take off his loin cloth and to put it back on, showing us how. He’s given us loin cloths!
We practice doing it. Anil says we need to do it enough times we get it right, so it’ll stay in place. Not hard. We got ‘em on now. Looking at Yonee, he looks just like loin cloth guy. Guess I must, too. The shade of our skin, our loss of muscle and weight – with these loin cloths, we’re not any different.
“Very well, ladakon. My work is finished. You now appear as you must, and you have learned what you need to know.” He’s twirling his gem stone, like always. “Before we leave, I have some things I want you to read and a form to complete.”
He is giving us papers and pencils. I take the papers and I reach for the pencil. For some reason, I don’t take it right, though. I am holding it like a stick I might have picked up. I can’t figure out how to hold it so that I could use it to write. And, I’m looking at the papers. There’s lines of stuff there . . . but, I don’t know what language it’s in. I can’t read it. I hold it out to Anil and angle it so he can see it. I point to my head and try to say I don’t understand it. All that’s coming outta my mouth are those sounds. I look at the paper, point to my head, and shake my head no. I’m panicking.”
Lookin’ at Yonee I can tell he’s scared, too.
Anil is smiling and saying to us, “You do not have to do anything with them. I only wished to show you that you can no longer read or write . . . not even in your own language. The printing is in English.
“Lately you have been learning that you do not need to use words to tell what you want. You have been showing it to each other in your own ways. In your new lives, your hands and the motions of your bodies will be ALL you need.
“We go now to where you will stay. You will HAVE to stay there – you would not be able to survive anywhere else. You will remember everything. Even your past lives. But, you will not leave there.”
Anil’s got us squatting in the back of a really old beat up pickup truck. I don’t even know if we’re still in Mumbai. I look at signs in windows and on street corners. I can’t read any of it. I don’t even know what languages they’re in. It all just looks like markings to me.
All these people! We’ve been in the cage room so long, it’s strange outside. I see all these men. I’m looking at their crotches and thinking of their cocks! I realize I’m licking my lips and getting hard. This would never have crossed my mind before. Now it’s the only thing that I’m paying attention to.
After a long ride through all sorts of big and little streets, we’re stopping. Anil gets out of the cab of the truck and tells us to jump down. He tells us to follow him on foot down an alley too narrow for the pickup or other car. It’s got a lot of foot traffic, though. After a few blocks, he directs us to a doorway and tells us to go and squat down near it. We do it. There are a couple of naked guys sitting directly in the opening. They’re fondling their cocks and motioning to men passing to come in.
All kinds of men walking by. They look down at us. Mostly, I’m just lookin’ at their crotches . . . wondering what their cocks look like, how big they are, what shade they are, how thick they are, whether they’re leaking pre-cum, whether their pubic hair is thick or not . . . .
After he’s been inside a while Anil comes out with another man. He’s dressed a lot like the tattoo guy was. He looks at us and smiles. They’re talking in Hindi.
The new guy’s looking down at us and says, “I have accepted you. Anil says you are ready to serve my customers. Follow me inside.”
Once inside he leads us into a back room. There are a number of naked men there. Yonee and me look just like them. We didn’t used to. But, we do now. Only, they have hair on their heads and bodies . . . and between their legs. We’re both as smooth as when we first got shaved. Nothing ever came back. We are completely hairless.
They’re doin’ like we do, though. They’re playing with themselves or each other. They don’t stop because we came in. They keep doing what they were . . . but they’re watching us. A couple of them are licking their lips.
I can feel my little cock hardening. I’m reaching into my loin cloth to play with it. It’s wet with pre-cum. I squeeze my little knob and bring my hand outta my crotch and bring it to my mouth. I lick my fingers. Two of the guys squatting on the floor smile when they see me do it. They mimic my action with their fingers to their cocks and then to their mouths. I can’t help but smile back.
Anil is watching. He is smiling, also. He says to Yonee and me, “Take off your loin cloths. You will not need them here. You might not ever wear anything on your bodies again.”
All of a sudden I’m scared again. “Never”. That’s forever. I want to protest, but only those sounds are coming outta my mouth. My tongue’s dropped like a rock to the bottom of my mouth again. I’m flinging my arms around and trying to say, “Noo, noo, noo!” – but even that simple a sound just comes out like the same noise everything else does.
I look toward Yonee, and he’s just standing there, quiet and like a statue. He’s not blinking. He’s just staring. His eyes are big.
He loosens his loin cloth. It unfolds and falls to the floor. He’s rolling it up in a bundle and handing it to Anil. I WANT to do something, but I can’t. All I can do is the same as Yonee. Anil takes the loin cloths, smiles, tells the man who seems to be in charge something in Hindi, and leaves.
That man who “accepted” us says to us, “So, Chubhan and Yonee, Anil tells me that you aren’t as dumb as you seem. Even though you cannot speak or read or write, he says you can think. He also told me that you have learned all that is needed to serve the men who are my customers in this brothel in whatever ways they wish. That is all that concerns me.
“You will live here in this room with my other boys. They can teach you how to behave with customers. What you do with each other I do not care.
“I am called ‘Boss’ – even though we are in India. That will make no difference to you two, though, will it? You cannot speak!”
I am feeling completely lost. As I stand here small, completely smooth, and naked . . . I feel defenseless. Hell, I AM defenseless. I can’t run. I wouldn’t survive if I did. It’s like Anil said, Yonee and me – we just gotta stay here.
I’m realizing that the whole time I’ve been standing here and thinking, being afraid, I’ve also been playing with my little cock. I look down. There’s a string of pre-cum extending to the floor.
All of a sudden, a hand sweeps from the floor up to my cock and strips off the string. I look down, and one of the other men is licking his fingers clean. He’s one of the ones who was smiling at me when he saw me clean my own fingers after I took my hand out of the loin cloth I had on.
This breaks my daze. I feel like it’s a friendly gesture. I look toward Yonee. He saw what happened. He looks a little less scared than he did.
Unthinking, I squat down in front of my “new friend” and reach into his pubic hair. Like me and Yonee, his cock’s not huge, maybe nearly 4 inches. He’s hard. I masturbate him. He’s smiling at me and reaching for mine.
One of the other men has sort of scooted over to be in front of Yonee without even bothering to stand up. He looks up at him and says something in Hindi. But, it’s clear what he wants. He’d gesturing for Yonee to squat. He does. They start doin’ like me and my “friend”.
The others gather around us and start talking. The guy who I was masturbating with scoots back a little and our hands go to our own cocks. I hear some broken English. I look toward its source. I try to say I understand . . . but, I can’t tell him. I just make my noises and shake my head fast. I point to my mouth and then shake my head no, trying to let him know that all I can do is make these strange noises. He seems to catch on. He smiles.
He says, “I Vihaan. I work here long time. You Chubhan. I see mark on head.“ He’s pointing to my forehead . . . and then between my legs. I’d almost forgotten that “prick” is written above my eyes in Hindi!
I shake my head yes and smile, glad I’m communicating. Vihaan is still looking at my “prick”. I fondle it. He is licking his lips. He says to me, “You stand up?” I get up and open my legs some. He does like the other guy who’s sucking Yonee right now did. He’s scooting over to me. He takes my cock in his lips and begins to gently slather his tongue all round it. He never touched it with his hands. They are behind him. He’s looking up at me. Big smile. He picks up his pace . . . but it’s still really gentle. I thought that Yonee was good. I can see he – and me – we got some learning to do to catch up. Catch up? Yea. If this is my new life . . . and it IS – no other choices – I got to let these guys teach me.
I’m moaning as Vihaan is bringing me nearly to cumming. Suddenly he stops. He’s holding my cock in his mouth. Still no hands. But, he’s stopped. Why? He just waits . . . now, he’s picking back up. Ohh. Ohhh. I’m back to nearly gonna cum again. Vihaan is stoppin’ again. What the shit! He’s looking up at me, smiling around my cock . . . waiting. Now, he’s starting in again. Ohh. Ohh. Ohh. I’m gettin’ close – again. He stops. I’m catching on. He’s toying with me. He’s making me spend more time on the edge of cumming. Damn, he’s good! He keeps it up for maybe 15 minutes then finally lets me cum. He doesn’t miss a drop. He got it all. Swallowed it all.
I try to tell him how good he just did. I still keep forgetting I can only make weird noises. So, I let them keep coming outta my mouth while I smile down at him and make motions with my fingers going into my mouth, then pointing at his mouth, then strongly shaking my head yes. He gets it. He’s saying, “Yes, Chubhan like!” I go back to shaking my head.
Yonee is still standing there getting sucked! He’s guiding the guy’s head onto his cock at each downstroke . . . and groaning a lot.
Boss shows up now. He doesn’t look either upset or pleased. He just looks. “Very good, you are going to fit in with my other boys. Right now you must all take your places at the entrance and invite customers in. All of you. Go!”
I don’t know what he means. I look to Vihaan and shrug my shoulders, open my eyes wider, point to my head, and shake it no. He says, “I show you. Come to front.”
It turns out that we are supposed to squat in or next to the doorway, playing with our cocks, licking our lips, and beckoning to the men passing by to come in. The others are calling to them in any languages that they know the words – things like, “You come in. We suck good.” Or, “We good fuck boys. Come in. Price good.”
So, here I am squatted down next to Yonee. We’re reaching for each other’s shaved crotches and bating one another. With our free hands we’re waving at men passing. We can’t speak . . . but we try. Men look at us strange when they hear us.
A fat Indian wearing a dhoti stops. He looks down at me. I’m looking between his legs licking my lips. I’m even drooling some. I quit on Yonee’s dick and use one hand to point toward the fat man’s crotch and the other to point to my mouth. Am I really doing this? I am . . . and I’m completely hard, too. Damn!
The fat guy smiles. He kicks at my shin, not hard, to indicate he wants me to service him.
Boss is just inside the doorway watching us. He tells the fat man something, and the fat man reaches into the pouch on the cord around his neck. He’s paying. I really AM a whore.
I stand up. Boss leads the way to a room. The fat customer’s way taller than me. We go in. He takes the dhoti off, leaving him in his loin cloth. He speaks some Indian language I don’t understand. So, he shows me his teeth, points to mine and then to the loin cloth. I get it. He wants me to take it off of him with my teeth. Yea. I can do that. Once it’s off, still in my teeth, I scoot over on my haunches to where his dhoti is, drop it there . . . and then move back to him.
While we were in the doorway squatting down, Vihaan told me to never let my head be above the level of a customer’s waist unless he wants me to suck his nipples or he wants to kiss. The fat guy’s already semi-hard. I take his cock like Vihaan did mine. Hands behind my back and start real gentle. The day is hot. He’s real sweaty. His crotch smells strong. After thinking, “I hate this smell”, something switches. I realize it’s making my already hard cock start to thrust. My body likes this.
The fat guy’s nearly cumming in my mouth, but he wants to do that in a different place. He motions me to kneel on the bed while he stands at its foot. He’s fucking my asshole. He’s going long, hard, and all the way in. I’m used to it from Yonee . . . but this guy’s cock is way bigger. Really big. It hurts – at first. Pumpin’ in and out. Harder now. Hammering in and outta my hole. Now it’s mostly quit hurtin’. Feels good. Finally, he’s stiffening up and shouting. He’s shootin’ his cum.
He’s leaving. He’s just going over and picking up his loin cloth, wrapping it around, and putting on his dhoti. He’s out the door. Just like that. My first service as a whore is done.
Boss had been watching I am just realizing. He must think I did okay. He looks at me and nods. No smile or anything. Just the nod.
I had another customer before Boss had half of us come in to eat. A street food seller stops out front and brings rice and curry inside. Vihaan is with me and Yonee. He says, “Food come again in morning.”
More customers that night. Boss does a big business. When the foot traffic dies down, Boss calls us in from the street and pulls down the steel shudder and locks it. We go to the room where we’ll sleep. There’re thin woven mats to lie on. There are two shit holes, one each in two opposite corners of the room.
Been days, weeks, don’t know how long. Every day is exactly the same. All the other men – there are five plus Yonee and me – have accepted us. Two of ‘em know some English. We’re learning words in Hindi. First ones we learned were what the customers were saying they wanted. So, we learned the difference between suck and fuck real fast . . . and slower or faster or harder.
Two or three times a week we go a few blocks to a roadside water hydrant where we bathe. I’ve gotten accustomed to being naked all the time no matter where I am or who passes by. There’s no way I’m going to have any clothing, not even a loin cloth.
After a while, I’ve just had to accept that this is my life. I’m a male brothel whore slave in India. I’m sure that the foreigners who come as customers think Yonee and me are just two Indian half castes, “chee-chees”. They’d never think we were one of THEM. That’s what Anil meant by saying he had to make us look like he wished. If we could talk or read or write any more, we could maybe somehow explain to some customer we’ve been kidnapped. But, we can’t. And, to run would result in maybe worse than here. At least there’s food and a roof here.
The other five boys who were already here have been here between 3 and 10 years. Don’t know how they came to be here. We can’t tell them our stories. So, we’re just here.
It’s some day of the week – I haven’t known one from the other since the time we got kidnapped. A hand pulled rickshaw is coming down the street. That’s unusual. Rickshaws here mean someone’s got money. Street’s too narrow for cars. People just walk.
It’s stopping in front of the brothel. Heavy set man in a suit is getting out. A suit. Don’t see many men dressed like that here. We’re grouped in the doorway like always, masturbating ourselves or each other, licking our lips, and waving at men to come in. I look up at him and do it to him, too.
Damn! It’s Mr. Singh! He looks down over us taking us all in with a sweeping glance. He’s walking in.
I hear Boss speaking loudly and happily greeting him. “Mr. Singh. I have long been expecting you. Anil said you would be coming.”
I don’t have to listen hard to hear them. They are not far inside the entrance.
“I have been much delayed. My business is heavy. As you know, I have a special reason for coming here, though.”
“Yes. I do know. Anil told me when he brought me the boys that you sold me that you would come soon, too.”
“Unfortunately, that was a long time now. I had wished to come immediately.”
“No matter. You are here now. Do you wish servicing while you are here?”
“I definitely do. But, I wish it from one of the two whom I sold you. One in particular.”
“Show me which one, and I will put him at your service, Mr. Singh.”
“I looked at the boys outside as I came in. He’s not there. I would have recognized him.”
“Oh, but you are mistaken. Both of them are there. Would you like to look again?”
“Yes. Come with me.”
Mr. Singh is standing over us now. He is looking at each of us carefully. His eyes go past me twice. I’m hating him. I want to move on him. But, it’s like Anil was back here keeping me from moving. All I can do is keep bating my cock as I look up at him licking my lips. Shit!
“It is useless. They all look the same to me. Certainly, no one of them is John Higgins. Anil must have somehow made a mistake.”
“He did not, Mr. Singh. Rather, it shows the quality of his work that you cannot identify the boy from the other whores. If you could, so might others mark him out as different. That would not be good.”
“You have good reasoning. So – point Higgins out to me.”
“Is this ‘Higgins’ man the one from the hotel?”
“Yes. Yes, that is the one.”
Boss is standing over me now. He points to me, and says, “Mr. Singh, this is the boy called ‘Prick’. You can read it on his forehead. Anil told me to tell you that he was the one from the hotel. Anil never knew his name before.”
Mr. Singh is beginning to laugh loudly. “Oh! This is far more than I would have imagined in my greatest hopes. That whore tried to cause me great loss. He went behind my back and told lies about me. He had to be gotten rid of. But, this – THIS – it is so much more than I could have hoped!”
He kicks me hard in the shin and says, “Kneel up in front of me Higgins! Or, do you only know yourself as ‘Prick’, now?!”
Boss steps closer to the two of us. He looks concerned that I might be going to do something to Mr. Singh. He’s right. I would . . . if I could. He says to me, “Chubhan – go to the large room. Squat down there and wait for Mr. Singh.”
I go.
I’ve not been squatting long on the floor, and here comes Boss showing Mr. Singh to the room.
“Boy, I will expect you to make no trouble and to treat Mr. Singh with great respect. Do you understand?”
I open my mouth, trying to make words come out, but – as always – they will not – just that mush sound. But, I’ve learned well to use motions of my head, hands – and body – to make up for words. My head is telling Boss I understand his commands.
Once Boss has gone, Mr. Singh looks down on me and says, “This is so rich, Higgins . . . no, ‘Prick’. I must find Anil soon and give him a bonus! Kneel in front of me and begin to undress me . . . whore.”
It’s still like Anil and his gem stone are here in the room. I can only do what Mr. Singh demands. And, I can only even think of him as MR. Singh. I reach up from my kneeling position and untie his tie, unbutton his shirt, and begin to take his clothes off. He is fat. After removing his shoes, I unbuckle his belt and open his pants, carefully lowering them so that he can step out of them. Then, I lower his briefs the same way.
I am kneeling in front of the naked Mr. Singh. His crotch is sweaty and has a rich odor that is making me drool and making my cock stiffen. I look up at him. What does he want me to do first?
He says, “Your owner tells me that you cannot speak – or read or write! How wonderful. You can never tell anyone what has happened . . . nor because of whom. First, I want to feel my cock in your mouth, Boy.”
I take his cock in my mouth, my hands behind my back. I take it and suck it gently. I come off of it and use my tongue to lick all around it. I give special attention to his cock head. It is large. I begin to go back onto his now hard cock, bobbing my head back and forth, making him moan with pleasure. Even though I hate Mr. Singh, servicing him like this is making my small cock completely hard. I treat his cock like Vihaan taught me that first day here at the brothel. Like his large cock head, his whole cock is a large one. It is in my throat. I am doing to him as Yonee does to me. I am singing around it, vibrating my vocal cords to add to his pleasure.
Not having let him cum, I crawl behind him and begin to rim his hole. He moves to the high table placed in the room for customers to lean over when they are serviced like this. I have become very good at giving all of the services that Boss’ brothel is known for. I finish this and make noises to get Mr. Singh’s attention. I nod toward the bed in this room. I kneel up on its foot and extend my ass for him to take. He has been leaking a lot. He uses his pre-cum to slick his cock. My hole is well used to receiving cocks by now. It needs no stretching. I feel the tip teasing my hole. I automatically relax my hole and back up a bit toward it. I feel it coming into me. He is already moaning even though he can’t be feeling much yet. He is just so happy to be taking the ass of the one he hates. I hate him as much. But, I am for some reason helpless to do anything but treat him as Boss has commanded me to do – with great respect. He begins to move in and out of me fast and hard. My dick is hard. My hips are thrusting back into him. He goes on for a long time. Finally, he cums. So do I. I can hardly believe that my body would cum for having been fucked by Mr. Singh.
When he is finished, he orders me to dress him. I do so. When I am finished, I do as I have been trained to do. I go and squat along the wall, looking down at the customer’s feet as he leaves.
As he goes, he says, “Prick. I will return. You are an adequate whore-boy!” I hear his laughter as he goes down the hall.
I go back to the doorway and continue to wave for men to come in to be serviced. I serve two others before Boss pulls down the shutter for the night.
In the sleeping room, I would like to be able to tell Yonee what has happened . . . that I now know for certain why I was kidnapped and ended up here. But, I can’t communicate that to him. All I can do is seek the warmth of my lover’s body, motion to him to guide his cock into me, and fall asleep impaled and spooned in his arms.
End
