Date: Mon, 30 Oct 2006 10:43:08 -0800 (PST) From: Aihu Fist Subject: Hammam 17 Hammam part 17 by Aihu Fist Copyright 2006 Aihu Fist. All Rights Reserved. Ghadafi Muamar, finally got to see that circusdirector. I as the colonels' favorite pet went everywhere he went, and he had no secrets for me. We traveled all the way to Fez to see th guy. He wasn't exactly well educated. Circus people are a special breed, if you ask me. The man wore a nice shirt with a golden colored tie to meet the royal demands and a stainless pair of trousers. The seats in the limo were of pure red velvet and it had a coctailbar in it and a medium TV screen. Until the man showed up we watched the best kiddieporn movies. The Colonel had a huge collection, mostly filmd in Dubai and Lybia, he told me. He was very pleased with my company, for he couldn't keep his hands to himself. They roamed behind my arsehole fingering me all the time. It was a great feeling because while he did this, he also licked my nipples. I sat shirtless in the car, just wearing a thong. -Will you be happy with me, Rachid? -Absolutely, my lord. I love you so much, look my zob (dick) how it grows when you touch my butt hole. -Yes, I am pleased with that. -He glued his eyes on the scene on the monitor where two black males were buttfucking a blond boy of about twelve. -Could you have this, Rachid? -Oh, yes, I had many up my arse, you know, I am used to it. I don't know why I said this, I just did to impress him wiht my lover qualities. -Mmm, that sounds good. Now I want you to be my perennial companion, and you will not go with anyone but me, is that understood? -Yes, sir. -And no jealousies, ever, if I am sometimes a bit intersted in a roumi boy. -Safi, my lord. The driver tapped on the window. -The circus director, sir is here. -Let him in. The man got in and was overtly submissive and impressed with this private meeting with the colonel. -Salaam Aleikhoum! -Maleikhoum asalaam -So you are the man we need? Cigarette? -Choukran (thank you) Colonel. Yes, I am the owner of the biggest Iranian circus that roams in the whole of the Middle-East and recentlly we do a première in Morocco. -I heard you only have boy acrobats? -That's correct, sir. -Why only boys? -It is our specialty and besides, the moslem countries have high religious restrictions about women. -Yes, that's true. -But is that the only reason? The man smiled and said. -No sir. With your permission I will elaborate. Sometimes we play in Saoudi Arabia or in Sultanates. And in the end the high officials demand a meeting with the boys. They want an autograph or simply meet them eye to eye. They have become addicted fans and visit the performances twice or thrice a week. -Yes, go on... -Well, you know, lots of men have no good sex with their women or they are utterly bored with them and look for some fun. The boys come in handy for them. We have a huge range of nationalities, like Nepalese, Singhalese boys who used to be camel riders, they know how to serve Arabian masters. When they are getting too big for camel races, I buy them and train them in acrobacy. -Nothing else than circus acts? He smiled again, this time a bit more conspicuous. -Go on man, don't waste my time. -They act like young sex workers. -All of them? -Yes. -Good. -Now I have a proposition, for you. I have about thirty kids not older than sixteen or seventeen. I want you to include them on your worker's list and take those kids to Lybia, as if they were professional acrobats. We will make the fake papers that gives you credibility on this. I will pay you royally for that. You will have a fixed income and your circus will be nationalized in my country. You will have them perform for my high guests at any time. -Good gracious Allah, that sounds fabulous, my lord. He grabbed Gadafi's hands and kissed them both. He had tears in his yes. -It is an honor for me to work in your country. -When are you ready? -Tomorrow we can start packing up, sir. We don't have any animals, just kids. -They wil be too happy to please you, sir. -In two days we meet again, all I need are the names, age and history, includign a detailed account of the boys' character and you must hand me over their passports tomorrow, before noon. -Yes, sir. That will be done, I am at your service. The man got out of the limo, and we went to the Hilton hotel. There we cajoled each other in bed for as long as the night lasted. I disspeared with for the whole night under the sheets, making him happy. -Oh, yes Rachid, cherish my heavy grapes, they are all yours. I nearly choked in the hairs, but didn't complain. While he was watching BBC news I was busy blowing his long an fine rod. -One day I will punish those Brits, I heard him say. `The bastards have tried to kill me so many times with the Americans. Maybe I should blow up a few planes... Oooooh, yes, like that, go on, little cocksucker, now don't use your sharp teeth or I will have them ripped out. Hahahaha, ok that's better. Now put your agile tongue a little deeper. There, yes, that's how I like it. All of a sudden he threw the sheets away and lunged over to me. `Lie down boy and be still. That's it. Let me take you slowly.' I spread my short legs like a good professional and parted my cheeks for him to have a better go in me. `Good boy, you are. Are you readyyy! Yes I am in.' God, I was glad it wasn't my first time. He just dove in me like a spear. He was flogging my arse like a madman. No, it didn't hurt, as I said I had quiet a number of men up my arse and I wasn't afraid at all of his. -Oh, zouin (beautiful) boy, you are so sweet, your arse is mine.' My ears got sucked up and wet all over. He fucked on for half an hour, biting me on my shoulders like a lion, then he cramped up all of sudden. His nostril flooded my ears with hot breath, he came massively, with seizures, nearly choking me, beacause my head was buried in his pillow. But i manged to satisfy him.The he sent me away. -Go and play some video games downstairs, he said. I have some important things to do. Down at the lobby there was a place with three screens and some odd games thta I liked in Esaouira. The colonel had givenme some pocket money, so I was sweet for a while with the games. But since I wasn't far asway form the lobby I couldn't help but over hear a conversation with a voice that i recognised as the circus director's voice. -Yes, sir, the colonel has invited me and this boy here. He is a relative of his exellency. I turned my head around and I saw the man with a boy of about thirteen, with a darkish complexion and Asian features. -OK. I will ring up the colonel, the receptionist said. -Yes, sir, OK. I will send them up. And what about the other boy here sir? -Yes, sir we will see to that. -You can both go. It is on the top floor. The boy was neatly dressed in a fine suit. They got into the lift and that was all I saw. I got jealously mad inside. I know this boy was just another bedfellow tonight. And right I was, because the circus man was right back five minutes later. I decided to run back and bang on the door, but the bellboy stopped me right there. I began to cry. It was a rotten thing to do this to me. To hell with his circus. I managed to sneak out of the hotel and ran away. I don't know what happened after with the Colonel. He must have goen with the whole lot and I was now far from my beloved city. I had no choice but to survive in the streets and Medina of Fez, where quickly I ofund customers for the night. Mostly tourists. They were nice to me, bought me food and clothes. One day I got to know a white boy. His name was Alex who spoke fluent Arabic. He too had run away from someone and lived of the many handouts. He had done various jobs, working in the souk. But when I got to know him better- we met in a police cell, we had both been arrested for something- We shared many secrets...he told me I lived a life of a whoring student, renting out my arse to men, as he described it. So we had something in common which glued us together for a while in so much that we became lovers. He had only one wish: seeing his mum again. For more write to aihufist@yahoo.com or read other stories of my hand at prolific authors's page.