Date: Sat, 8 Dec 2001 05:16:10 -0800 (PST)
From: Bill <bil47@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sultan's Favorite Boy, Part 2

The Sultan's Favorite Boy, Part 2
by Bill (bil47@yahoo.com)

"Salim, would you care to visit my campfire to drink coffee and
talk for a while?" inquired the middle-aged commander gently. He
spoke the Bosnian dialect fluently, but with a peculiar accent.

The 11-year-old wasn't sure what Commander Mustafa might want of
him, but he hastened to the man's side. This was the day that
Salim had become a slave... taken from his village through the
imposition of the Sultan's boy-tax. No ordinary slave, though. He
and the other boys similarly taken from the valley would be
cadets in the Corps of Janissaries -- the elite troops of the
powerful Ottoman Empire. For over 200 years, this army had been
comprised solely of men taken in boyhood from the conquered
Christian territories of  Greece and the Balkans.

Earlier that day the Salim and five other boys had left their
villages in the mountains of southwestern Bosnia, likely never to
return. And a half-hour ago, the commander of this recruiting
unit had presided over a naming ceremony, in which the six
youngsters had thrown onto a bonfire all of their clothing and
anything else they had brought from their old lives. While being
re-clothed, they were also renamed and warmly welcomed into the
Corps. Before the ceremony, Salim had been Sacha. His 9-year-old
cousin Daniil, who had lived in a neighboring village, was
renamed Damir.

With a hearty meal of mutton stew in his belly, and wearing an
impressive new uniform of dark purple shirt and baggy black pants
of the Turkish style, Salim followed Commander Mustafa away from
the center of the encampment. The eyes of others --  14 Janissary
soldiers and 20 new cadets -- followed the man and boy as they
disappeared into the darkness while walking to the place where
Mustafa's tent was pitched and his small campfire burned. The
soldiers were envious of their commander, retiring for the night
with the most beautiful boy any of them had seen in some time.
And the boys in the camp were impressed at how their bright and
personable young comrade had been instantly elevated in status by
his selection.

"Sit with me on this log, Salim," said the man, pointing to a
stout tree trunk that lay 6 feet from the fire. "Have you ever
drunk coffee?"

"No, sir... but I know of it."

"I will give you half a cup to start," said the commander as he
picked up two metal cups.

The commander looked to be about 40, his short-cropped brown hair
flecked with grey, but he was strong and had an aura that
suggested he was an excellent leader. Pouring hot strong coffee
from a small pot that hung over the fire, he handed one to the
boy, and they sat down together on the log.

"The infidels drink alcohol when they talk around the fire at
night. We Muslims drink coffee to help the conversation flow."

Salim nodded his head in acknowledgment, adding this fact to the
growing store of information about his new life.

"So, boy, what are your thoughts on this momentous day? You don't
look at all melancholy or frightened like some of the others."

"Well, sir... I think I am excited that I shall finally see the
world outside this valley. And I have always known I would be a
Janissary, so it makes me proud to now wear this uniform."

The commander beamed. "Well said, lad! ... So tell me a bit about
your life... and about this valley of yours. It strikes me as a
rather pleasant place to grow up."

Salim looked around him -- at the snow-capped mountaintops in the
distance, barely visible in the moonlight -- and he breathed deep
of the crisp autumn air. And then he began to talk -- of life in
a village of subsistence farmers and shepherds; of the way the
morning sun blazed a rich golden color on the tallest mountain to
the west; of the majestic silence that followed a heavy snowfall;
of catching small game with ingenious snares and traps; of the
thrill of seeing the men and older youths return from the hunt
with deer or mountain goats shot with bow and arrow. And he
talked of the empty bellies that growled when the deep snows were
late in giving way to the thaw, and the beauty of wild flowers
when the snow finally receded. Salim's intelligence and
enthusiasm -- and the near poetry of his descriptions -- warmed
the man's heart.

"I will miss the valley," said Salim, "But I am ready to leave
it, sir. Ready to see what lies beyond." After a moment, he added
"May I ask, sir... have you traveled much in your time as a
soldier?"

"Traveled? Ah, yes, lad. In 31 years of service, during the reign
of five different sultans, I have been to the four corners of the
Empire. I've seen the pyramids of Egypt, the metropolis of
Baghdad,  the holy city of Jerusalem. I've been to the islands of
the Aegean Sea and sailed through the Straits of Gibralter. Let
me tell you about the time we fought the infidels right up to the
gates of Vienna...."

As the commander spun his tales of adventure, Salim listened...
entranced. Whenever Mustafa's narrative flagged, Salim would ask
a question to get him started again... or sometimes the lad would
tell story of his own, often of the boyish adventures he had
shared with his best friend Havel. The commander was charmed by
the Salim.... and the boy was captivated by the man.

As the hour grew late, a chilly wind whistled through the camp.
Salim, who had left his new cloak back with the other boys,
shivered and held his hands out to the red embers of the dying
fire.

"Come, boy. Sit on my lap, and I will wrap my cloak around us
both."

Salim sat sideways on the man's knees, his legs dangling to the
right of Mustafa's lap. It was just the way Salim had loved to
perch on his father's lap, until his father said he had grown too
big. As the man and boy resumed their conversation, Salim leaned
his head against Mustafa's chest, hoping the commander would not
mind. Mustafa's long woolen cloak enveloped the boy, and a strong
hand rested lightly on Salim's shoulder... the other hand on the
boy's knee. As Salim snuggled closer, the man's embrace became
even more intimate. Conversation ceased, and they sat for a time
in silence. While a feeling of safety and comfort pervaded the
boy's mind, quite a different set of feelings coursed through
Mustafa. There was lust, to be sure... his cock was growing stiff
inside his thick uniform trousers. But there was also the far
more complex feeling of true affection and protectiveness.

Janissaries were forbidden to have relations with women, and
Mustafa had shared sexual companionship with uncounted men and
youths in the 31 years since he had been taken from Romanian
countryside as a young boy. At times over the years, he and some
fellow soldier would share an extended relationship, built on
love or mere expedience... or perhaps both. Most of his sexual
encounters, however, were just one-time releases of lust... a
time of pleasure to relieve the boredom of the barracks or the
bivouac. And more than a few were with cute young cadets.

As Mustafa breathed in the subtle scent of the boy who snuggled
on his lap, his heart beat faster and his cock strained with
lust. Surely a boy so beautiful and charming had attracted the
frequent sexual attentions of horny teenagers or of men in his
village who appreciate the eroticism of tender boys.

"Salim.... Are you experienced with men or older youths?"

"Experienced, sir?" said the boy is a slightly puzzled tone.
"There are... let's see... 14 men in my village and 5 boys of
courting age. I know all of them rather well."

"No, lad; I meant, have you ever been... uh... penetrated." He
refrained from using the crude Bosnian word for "fucked".

"Penetrated, sir? In what manner?" asked the boy innocently.

"You know... have you taken a man's hard cock in your bottom
hole?"

"Sir??" Clearly, Salim had never considered such a thing. "Why
would a man do that, sir?"

Mustafa silently cursed himself for having presumed the boy's
lack of innocence. But this would not be the first time he'd
relate these particular facts of life to a boy. "(Ahem)....
Well.... You know of how a bull will mount a cow to later produce
a calf?"

"Yes" said Salim, nodding earnestly. Every country boy had seen
the mating of farm animals.

"And do you know how a man will take pleasure lying between the
legs of a woman and thrusting into her?"

"Yes, sir. And the woman pretends not to desire it, but she moans
just as loud as the man!" said Salim, causing Mustafa to laugh
out loud and hug Salim even tighter. Salim and Havel had twice
spied on a teenage couple who were courting, following them with
stealth as the youth and maiden had snuck off to the meadow for
private intimacy. The young boys had watched from the edge of the
woods as the couple engaged in the kissing, touching, and
fondling of teenage lust. And they had watched with particular
interest when the boy cajoled the girl into spreading her legs
and receive his urgent thrusts.

"You are perceptive, lad! Well, two men can make love in a
similar fashion, with one sliding his cock inside the other's
bottom until the manly seed spurts, and he feels great pleasure.
And a man can do it to a boy. In the barracks, you will find it
is rather common. The soldiers call it fucking. Some men and
youths, if they have no modesty, will fuck in full view of the
entire barracks. More often, though, you will hear the sounds
after the lamps are extinguished at night and men lay together in
the dark."

Salim well knew the sounds of sexual coupling from having lived
in a one-room shack, where he would sometimes awaken to the
distinct sound of his parents' lovemaking... the harmony of
muffled pleasure noises in the dark, growing to a crescendo, then
almost instantly dying down to a few gentle sighs.

"I think I may have done fucking, sir. Several times, my friend
Havel and I... we took off our clothes and hugged each other,
taking turns being on top and rubbing our stiffies together. It
was a most enjoyable feeling sir," said Salim with total candor.

"No, lad," said the commander gently. "What you and Havel did was
sex play of a gentler sort. Fucking involves a stiff cock
entering your bottom. There will be many a soldier -- and many an
older cadet -- who will ask if they may fuck you."

Salim looked up into Mustafa's eyes. "Sir, would it please you to
fuck me tonight?"

For a moment the commander could not speak, his mind swirling
with conflicting thoughts. Then he kissed the boy on the cheek
and said "You have spoken to me in candor, Salim, and I will
answer you honestly. If you had told me that you were experienced
in the ways of pleasuring men, I would have gladly taken you to
my tent tonight. It would have pleased me greatly to make love to
you. But long ago I resolved not to fuck a boy who was
unaccustomed to having a man."

Mustafa's cock was of generous length and girth, and he knew the
pain that a boy would endure at being deflowered by it. Indeed,
Mustafa could still remember his own pain when he was first
penetrated... succumbing to the flatteries of a smooth-talking
soldier in the barracks, some 30 years before. Giving a boy his
first fuck, or even the second or third, was too much like rape
for the commander's liking. (And Mustafa was quite familiar with
rape, understanding that it was a tool of war... a weapon to be
inflicted on the daughters and sons of the Sultan's enemies in
time of conflict.)

"Let me offer some advice about your upcoming life as a young
Janissary, if I may. Although it is your right to share pleasures
with any comrade, whether soldier or cadet, you would do well to
turn down the offers of men while you are so young. Men are
eager to take pleasure from a boy, but often reluctant
to give back. Sometimes, a boy -- especially a handsome one such
as you -- allows his body to be used indiscriminately for the
pleasure of many men. While he is often flattered by the men, and
feels himself to be popular, he acquires a reputation that is
undesirable for a soldier. He will be called a 'bottom boy'...
viewed as a sexual toy, rather than as a comrade. Even as he
grows to manhood, that identity may remain stronger than any
skills he may possess as a warrior.

"For now, it would best for you to choose  partners from among
those close to your own age. Experience all the joys of sex-play
with the other boys... the stroking and sucking... the snuggling
of naked bodies at night... fingers tickling each others' bottom
holes. But have a care to keep the relations equal. Do not be one
who always sucks other boys' cocks without  being sucked in
return. And wait for the right boy to come along before you allow
a stiff cock to penetrate your bottom. It will likely hurt the
first time... perhaps the first several times, as you learn how
to do it... so choose a boy you trust. Do you understand all
these things, boy?"

"Yes, sir. I think so."

Mustafa continued hugging Salim to his chest as a few moments of
silence ensued. Then the commander spoke again, softly. "This boy
Havel.... You will miss him, yes?"

Salim felt his throat tighten. "Yes sir; I will miss him
terribly. It is wrong for me to say this, but I fear that I shall
miss him even more than I will my own family."

"It sounds as if the two of you were in love. That is a beautiful
thing for two boys to have shared. Some day, you will have
feelings for a comrade that are as strong and good as the
feelings you had for Havel... feelings that the other boy will
have for you as well. Then you will know it is time to give the
gift of your body and allow him to make love to you. And when
your comrade offers you his body, accept his gift with love and
respect."

Commander Mustafa looked into Salim's beautiful eyes for a long
moment, feeling a stab of emotion deep in his heart. "Thank you,
lad, for drinking coffee with me. I hope that someday, when you
are older and more experienced, we may be stationed together.
Perhaps then, we might exchange pleasures."

Salim didn't know what to say. And the continued tightness in his
throat would have made it difficult to speak in any case. But he
wrapped his arms around Mustafa's neck and brought his lips to
the man's mouth. The man's heart melted as the most wonderful
feeling of love washed over him. The commander hugged the cadet
tightly as their mouths joined.  When the tip of Mustafa's tongue
grazed Salim's lip, the boy instinctively opened his mouth and
let his own tongue peek out timidly. For a long, breathless,
timeless moment, the two kissed. Their tongues entwined...
tasting, licking, probing... their lips nibbling.

When Mustafa broke the kiss at last, he was light-headed. "Hop
down, boy, before you make me abandon my resolve. Off you go,
then. Goodnight."

And as Salim made his way along the path, the commander closed
his eyes and turned his mind inward. Mustafa's brain was
committing to memory every detail of the boy's face, his scent,
his voice, his touch, his kiss... and the memory of the boy's
naked body earlier that evening at the naming ceremony. Then he
stood up, adjusted his rigid cock in his pants, and poured the
rest of the coffee from the pot into the embers of the fire. As
he walked into his tent and began removing his uniform, Mustafa
knew that his delicious memories of the boy would be put to good
use -- for the first of many times -- as a mental accompaniment
to the pleasures of his stroking hand.

Salim felt as though he was walking on a cloud as he started down
the path away from the commander's campsite. So many thoughts and
feelings inhabited in his brain and body... so much new
information to absorb. His penis was stiff, a phenomenon that
happened with increasing frequency in recent months. And he felt
the urge, more strongly than ever before, to touch his penis and
manipulate it in the way that brought the tingling pleasure
feelings.

But first he must find the spot where the other boys were camped.
He silently cursed himself for being inattentive as he had walked
here with the commander. The camp was spread out widely in an
area of thick clumps of trees interspersed with grassy patches of
meadow. As he looked through the trees ahead, he saw several low-
burning campfires at various spots. He picked one and headed
toward it. A three-quarters moon provided some illumination as he
walked along in the cool night air. Up ahead, he saw two figures
standing together, and he moved toward them to speak to them. But
as he approached, he saw that they were... well, not exactly
embracing... they were being VERY intimate. And one was a boy,
identifiable by the purple color of his uniform shirt and his
smaller stature.

As Salim quietly walked closer, he could see the boy's face -- an
older kid, maybe 13 or 14, that Salim did not know personally.
One of the group from down-valley who had been "recruited" on a
previous day. He was leaning against a tree with his legs spayed
out a bit. His pants were open but not pulled down. The man was
standing at his side with his left arm around the boy's shoulder,
his right hand masturbating the boy's erect adolescent cock in a
slow, erotic rhythm. The soldier had his mouth to the side of the
boy's head... perhaps whispering erotic words... more likely
flicking his tongue sensuously in the lad's ear. The boy's eyes
were closed and he was sighing and cooing with pleasure,
oblivious to Salim's presence only 15 feet away. As Salim moved
along a bit more, he saw that the man's cock was out too -- a
virile erection of impressive size. The boy's right hand was
wrapped around it, giving it an occasional distracted stroke.
Though Salim was aroused by the sight -- his small cock throbbed
more than ever -- he thought it best to move along and give these
two their privacy.

He continued along toward the fire beyond the grove of trees, and
soon heard low voices -- mostly men's voices, but also the
higher-pitched sound of boys. As he stepped into the clearing, it
was immediately apparent that he had not found the place where
the boys were camped. Before him was a tableau of adult
sexuality... displaying all the things about which Commander
Mustafa had spoken... and THEN some. He counted eight men, in
their bright red uniform shirts, and two boys clad in purple. As
his eyes scanned the scene, he gazed at a pair of soldiers
standing with their bodies entwined... kissing and embracing in a
much more aggressive way than were the man and boy he had just
passed. But like that other pair, these two were also stroking
each other's cocks, and they were not shy about grunting out
their growing lust. Another pair lay on a sleeping mat on the
ground, facing in opposite directions, pants open, and sucking
each other's cocks in a leisurely 69.

On the ground next to the fire, a boy lay on his back on the
covered ground, his pants and undergarment removed, and he was
being fucked by a soldier who had his trousers pulled down around
his knees. The boy's slender legs where pushed back toward his
armpits, and the man's glistening oiled cock was thrusting into
the lad's exposed anus. The thought ran through Salim's mind: the
fucking of a boy seems much like how a maiden is penetrated. The
boy's right hand grasped his own cock -- a slender 5-incher that
he masturbated in jerky strokes. The boy's left hand reached up
to stroke the erection of a soldier who knelt beside the lad's
head. This second soldier had his pants pushed down and this
shirt hiked up, and he was caressing the boy's hair while
squeezing his own ball sack.

Salim's scanning eyes finally came to rest on the last cluster of
bodies, glowing in the dim light of the small campfire and the
autumn moon. A soldier was reclining on a sleeping mat, his upper
body propped up on his elbows, his legs apart, his pants open and
pulled down a bit. Between his legs knelt a boy, naked below the
waist, his head bobbing at the soldier's crotch, with slurping
gutteral pleasure-noises coming from his mouth.

The globes of the boy's buttocks were raised up high, glowing
white in the moonlight. Beside the crouching boy knelt a soldier
who was pouring some fluid from a small bottle onto his hand, and
then smoothing it onto his erect cock. Then the soldier poured a
bit more on his fingers and glided them between the boy's ass
cheeks.

"Agh! Yes, boy! You DO have a  talented mouth!" moaned the man
sitting on the ground. "Uh, yes! Keep taking it deep, just like
that! I swear by the Prophet's beard, you give the best blow-job
I've ever had," he lied.

"And he takes two fingers as smoothly as the most experienced
bottom-boy in the Corps of Janissaries," said the soldier who was
finger-fucking the lad in preparation for a fuck. "It's so nice
when a new recruit knows how to join his comrades in night-time
fun, like our new friend Latif, here." The man winked at the
other soldier.

'Latif?' thought Salim; 'that's the name they gave to....'

"Lech?" he blurted out, then put his hand to his mouth in
embarrassment.

"Well if it isn't the commander's boy! You're Salim, right?" said
a soldier. "Didn't think we'd see you until daybreak. Come on
over and join us, lad; we'll show you a good time. Latif, tell
your friend how much fun we're having."

The 13-year-old had stopped his sucking and was now sitting up. A
trail of saliva dripped down his chin, and he looked embarrassed.
His adolescent erection, which was rather impressive for a boy
his age, was beginning to wilt.

"Hi, Sacha," he said sheepishly.

Salim had known Lech all his life, though they had not been close
friends. The two had grown up in neighboring villages 3 miles
apart, and they saw each other perhaps a dozen times each year.
As Salim stood silent at the edge of the clearing, his mind was
stuck on the term he'd now heard twice tonight: 'bottom-boy'.

"Come on, comrade. The commander may not value your friendship,
but we certainly do," said the man with the oiled cock who knelt
next to Lech/Latif.

"No... no thank you, sirs.... I'm looking for the place where the
other boys are camped. My young cousin is there."

"Ah, a shame. Maybe some other night, eh? Well, let's see... go
back the way you came for about 35 paces, then turn right. It's
just over a slight rise. Can't miss it with this moon."

"Thank you, sirs," said Salim, as he quickly retreated from the
scene.

"Damned pretty, that Salim," said a soldier as the boy
disappeared into the darkness.

"Aye, but we have two handsome young comrades here with us still,
right lads? Let's get back to our fun.... Latif, raise up that
beautiful ass for me again. There, that good. Are you ready for a
good fuck, boy?"

In only a couple of minutes, Salim was back in the area of the
camp where the bulk of the boys were settled in for the night.
Blanket-covered lumps lay motionless on the ground... some
clustered in twos and threes, others by themselves. The only
sound Salim heard was a quiet whimpering... a boy crying. He
walked to the source of the sound.

"Sacha!! I knew you'd come back!" Nine-year-old Damir jumped up,
wearing only his thin cotton undergarments, and hugged Salim.

A couple of the lumps on the ground made shushing noises. "Keep
it down, kid!" said a voice.

"Cousin," whispered Damir; "they said you would be spending the
whole night with the commander, but I knew you would come back to
be with me. I got a sleeping pad and a blanket for you, and laid
them out here beside me. Brrr... it's cold."

As Damir slipped back under the wool blanket, Salim took the
lad's long cloak and put it on top for extra warmth. Then he
shucked off his uncomfortable hobnail boots and his uniform pants
and shirt and crawled under his own blanket. Seeing that his
cousin had brought over his cloak, Salim arranged it on top of
himself just as he had done for Damir.

"Cousin," whispered Salim; "you were crying. Are you alright?"

"I was just lonely, Sacha. I miss my family so much! And I was
sad that you were not here with me. But I'm not sad anymore."

The older boy snaked his arm beneath the youngster's covers and
patted his back. "I'll stay with you. Don't worry. But there's
one thing... you must start calling me 'Salim'. There is no
longer a Sacha. And you must get accustomed to being Damir
instead of Daniil. Will you try?"

"Yes, Sach... I mean Salim," he said with a giggle.

After they had lain together in silence for a couple of minutes,
Damir whispered "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What?"

"After you left, all the older boys were talking about something,
but I couldn't figure out what, and they wouldn't tell me. A
young soldier said he would explain everything if I would spend
the night with him, but a sergeant told him to leave me alone,
cause I was too young. Could you tell me what the words mean?"

"Well... like what words?"

"Let's see. There was 'jack-off' and 'blow-job' and 'fucking'...
and maybe some others."

Salim grinned. So recently the innocent, now he considered
himself the expert. "Here, let's arrange the covers so we can
scoot close together and talk."

When they were side-by-side, Damir snuggled close to his cousin,
and they draped their arms around each other. "Now, tell me the
secrets," whispered the youngster.

"Well, these things are called sex, which is the pleasure feeling
that men get. And boys can get it too. It comes from the place
you pee from."

"You mean like when you rub your pee-pee and it gets stiff?"

"Yeah, that's it. But big kids call it a cock, and it's fun to
get together with a friend and feel each other's cock... that's
called jacking each other off... and to use your lips and tongue
to suck the other guy's cock... that's called a blow-job."

"Have you ever done these things, cousin?"

"Yeah; a few times. You know Havel, from my village?"

"Sure!"

"Well, he and I would play the sex games. And sometimes we would
rub our cocks together and it felt really good. But men do a
thing called fucking, where they put their cock into the other
person's bottom hole to make themselves feel good. But I've heard
that it hurts a lot when a man does that to a boy, so I'm not
ever going to do it." Salim hoped he would be forgiven this lie.
Only 15 minutes before, he would have willingly given his body to
Commander Mustafa. But he wished to shield his young cousin, as
the commander wished to shield Salim.

"As you get older your cock grows bigger, and the good feelings
when you play with it get stronger. Here, reach between my legs
and feel mine."

Damir slid his hand down Salim's side, to his hip, and then to
his crotch. Through the thin cotton of the undergarment, his
small hand explored the shape of Salim's penis, which had quickly
pulsed to full erection. Salim untied the waist, and the boy
reached in to fondle the stiff boyish rod.

"It's long, cousin! And fat too! And the balls in your sack are
big as robin's eggs."

"No, Damir. I am still small compared to men and older boys." At
4 inches, though, he was ahead of the majority of his 11-year-old
age mates, and the pleasure-feelings his cock could generate
increasingly occupied his thoughts.

"Salim... do you want to feel mine too? It's stiff, just like
yours."

"OK. But to do it right, we should take off these undergarment
and be naked."

"Yes; let's!" said the eager youngster.

In an instant, the two prepubescent boys were pressing their
naked bodies together. Salim rolled them both over so Damir lay
atop him, their stiff penises pressing together.

"This feels REALLY good!" whispered the younger boy, as his hips
began to move in little jerks.

"There's another thing boys can do, Damir. Do you want to kiss?"

Damir giggled, but nodded his head in consent. As their lips came
together, Salim felt a surge of erotic energy, and he wrapped his
arms tightly around his cousin's small frame. Damir was as
instinctively talented at tongue-kissing as Salim had been, and
they hungrily licked and sucked at each other's mouths as their
bodies pressed and slid together. Salim's hands glided over the
boy's back and the slender mounds of his little ass.

"Cousin," said Damir; "could I see what it's like to suck your
pee-pee... I mean your cock?"

"Sure! That would be great! Scoot down under the covers and kneel
between my legs." Salim couldn't help but picture Latif, kneeling
between the soldier's spread legs to suck his cock. "And then
I'll suck your's too." He did not want Damir to ever become a
bottom-boy.

The youngster disappeared under the blankets, sliding his body
down along Salim's, his belly and chest grazing along Salim's
cock as he went. When Salim felt hot breath on his penis, he held
his breath. And when the boy's warm wet mouth surrounded his
plump cockhead, Salim moaned softly. Havel had done this for him
only a few days ago, and he loved the sensation more than
anything he could think of.

But Damir was not nearly as skilled at this as Havel. He was
using too much suction and not enough sliding. His teeth
continued to scrape the shaft, even after Salim told him not to.

"Let's switch places, OK?" said Salim

As Damir lay on his back and Salim dove beneath the covers, it
occurred to the older boy that he loved the sensation of a stiff
penis in his mouth almost as much as he liked to be sucked by
Havel. He inhaled deeply of the scent of the little boy's crotch.
It was complex and intoxicating... not as earthy as Havel's, but
every bit as erotic.

His tongue came out and traced a line from the point where
Damir's penis met his ball sack, to the little nozzle at the tip
of his foreskin. Then he took the little erection between his wet
lips and slid down, letting his tongue dance along the shaft. The
cock was considerably smaller than Havel's. But though it was
barely over 2 inches long and the girth of Salim's finger,
Damir's erection was as rigid and smooth and satisfying as
Havel's. And Salim set about pleasuring his cousin... and in the
process pleasuring himself. Sometimes he would shift down to the
round ball sack... licking and sucking... playing with the round
pebbles within.

After several minutes of gentle pleasuring, Salim decided he
should see if he could get Damir to have the same kind of
pleasure-spasm that he and Havel could produce in each other's
cocks. Salim pulled the tight foreskin all the way down the shaft
to completely expose the cute little cockhead. His lips moved up
and down rapidly along the slender penis, giving just the right
suction, just the right tongue action. Damir was squirming around
like he would jump out of his skin, and in another moment Salim
could feel the erection throbbing as the special feeling pulsed
through it.

When Salim came back up, his cousin was ecstatic. This was
clearly his first dry orgasm, and he hugged his older cousin
tightly and snuggled against him.

"You are so good to me, Salim," he said, and then yawned. "I'm so
lucky we will be together in the army." And almost like he had
been hit over the head with a hammer, little Damir closed his
eyes and fell fast asleep.

After a while, Salim separated himself from his cousin's sleeping
embrace and lay on his back. His cock was still hard... still
demanding his attention. Reaching down, he gently ran the
foreskin up and down over the head of his penis, using his thumb
and two fingers. Yes! That's what it needed. Then he had a
thought. He brought two fingers of his other hand to his mouth
and coated them with spit. Spreading his legs, he gently rubbed
them along his tight anus... discovering the exciting sensations
that such stimulation could produce.  As he continued with the
anal play, his right hand returned to the familiar motions of
masturbation. Yes! This was different. This was better! As his
fingers moved faster on his cock, the middle finger of his other
hand slid back and forth, an inch or so inside the tight hole.
The urgency just kept building, and building, and building....

And then it exploded. Twice as good... three times as good as the
usual tingle he got when he orgasmed. He was out of breath as he
lay there, holding his penis in his hand, with a finger still
lodged in his bottom hole.

This is why boys let themselves be fucked, he thought. He could
understand that it would hurt to take a man's big cock, but the
commander seemed to be saying you could get accustomed to even
that. And Lech and that other boy seemed to enjoy it.

These thoughts were Salim's last of the night, as he too drifted
off to sleep.

The adventure he had waited for all his life had already begun.

End of Part 2
The Sultan will make his appearance in Part 3!
Let me hear from you. Mail: bil47@yahoo.com