Date: Fri, 11 Nov 2005 15:46:25 -0800 (PST) From: Aihu Fist Subject: Hammam 14 Gunnar hung in there for a while though it was more involuntary than voluntary. The guards watched him fascinated by the many trickles of blood which clotted against his frail Nordic skin. I sat there too, not able to withdraw from this fascinating body. Gunnar a victim of his own staggering beauty. I crept near him and touched his feet, I started licking them with love like a puppy afraid to get a beating but still curious enough to try it out. We heard the start of the engine of Mugabe's car driving away. The guards came closer and touched Gunnar's soft pinkish scrotum. We were drawn to his body like moths to a flame. I slowly moved up to His crotch over his ankle and inner thighs I faced his ball sac from below, the scent of his sweaty anus mixed with the cum of Mugabe made me hornier. I had to lick him there. Right in his passage. One guard kneeled in front of my boyhood and got his teeth over the base pulling my skin as if he was going to rip it from the shaft. We heard a door slam...we stopped immediately. Redouane was not to find out our games with his cherished Gunnar. I was happy that he'd go away, because then at last I would find my place next to the Master for real. Redouane had received orders from Mugabe who had expressed his joy and contentment in the form of a wet kiss on his cheek. He would fly to Fez where he would wait for Gunnar. Redouane was sad to see Gunnar leave. Just the thought of having to loses one of his bests specimen. A blond roumi of Viking blood, when would he ever find one like that again? Gunnar had been carried away by the Gnawa guards to the Hammam where they were taking care of his wounds. The bleeding had stopped, but all of the cuts were swollen and could not be allowed to get infected. While he was still unconscious, the Gnawas rubbed them in with salt, Mugabe's orders. Redouane walked into the sauna and kneeled by Gunnar's side. I just stood by and couldn't believe what he said in front of us: -Poor boy, he said. But a brave one too. I could never have bared this myself. His hand reached the boy's penis. -Look at this, a roumi penis, uncut. Mugabe hates circumcised boys, that's why we left him with it, he said to the Gnawa who said nothing back, but followed Redouane's fingers that were pulling back the foreskin. Instantly he looked at his own heavy ebony black gun that was resting on a pair of plump glistening balls sitting in a tight sac. Redouane saw that. He smiled at the Gnawa and said: - Are you hungry too? -Yes, Master, I am sad he is leaving, I never had the chance to ride him as you do. -Would you like to? -Very much sir. -Ok, I make an exception for today, I want to see you ride him while I watch. The Gnawa couldn't believe what he heard, but he didn't wait long before he asked: -Can you unbuckle me and free my anus, Master? -Of, course, I forgot. -Stand up and turn your arse towards me. He lifted the loincloth from behind and got the key, one of the many he always carried with him, and opened the backside of the Gnawa. A huge motherfucking dildo got pushed out of that pitch-dark arse. It was certainly four centimetres wide and twenty centimetres long. It was clean, this because the guards get their colon flushed three times a day. Redouane could not resist to push his fingers up his butt. The boy didn't flinch, he had gotten used to the many check-ups by his master. He was just fifteen and had been here for as long as he could remember. The boy opened his mouth an let a long sigh caress his already lubricated tongue. Redouane, pulled out his fingers and said: -Go on then, get some action. Gunnar was not conscious yet with the help of Redouane they turned him over to his tummy. The Gnawa boy salived his own pecker which stood tall and proud. Cut it was, the helmet clear and shining rosy. Now his hands parted the snow-white speckles cheeks, planted the whopping rod against the tight entrance and pushed with all his might into the resisting ribbed rosebud. The boy's gluttons flexed, pearls of sweat ran down his own arse cheeks while he was frigging and panting . He slid in like and out like nothing, getting meaner every minute. Indeed, he pulled at Gunnar's hair and bite him in the neck, sucked like a leech at his ears. -Good boy, Redouane hoarsely said. His voice sounded feverish. As a matter of fact he got his own cock out and was wanking it with precious care, spitting on his gland and rubbing it between thumb and index finger, drowning the the piss slit with more pre-cum. He loved this Black and white show, but he could not remain a spectator. All of a sudden he stopped the boy's movements and hauled himself over his pelvis and slid into the boy`s crack like it was a slide trombone. -Ok. go on now, keep fucking him, he whispered. Now both were fucking at the same time. And I was left out of it. I was cross about it, but he just ignored me! For the first time he treated me like I was nothing but air! The Gnawa had difficulties baring the weight of the Master, but nevertheless he continued. Now Master was biting his ears. The dampness of the Hammam was just perfect, no lube was needed anymore. They glued together and from afar one would have thought it was one body squirming on the floor. The boy had it no more and came in long squirts inside of Gunnar. Redouane felt every contraction against his belly, which got him more horny. Quickly he pushed himself of the blackie and tore the latter off Gunnar. -Let me taste where you have been! The boy was surprised again to see the Master in this state of arousal. The rules were thrown overboard as Redouane started licking the Gnawa's jerking dick. -Oh, it's wonderful, now I can finally smell, taste and feel my Viking's love tunnel juices. It is so rich, my dear, you have no idea. Now, I want you to get me laid, dear, so that Gunnar's shit comes in me, and so forever I will be united with his love canal. The boy got up, peeled down the baggy Arab trousers Redouane sported today, spat on the hairy arse and moved in. Meanwhile Redouane touched himself with his eyes closed. At last with croaking voice he squirted a big deal on the wet floor. -That's enough, Gnawa, you can I will go now. Go and prepare Gunnar's suitcase and dress him with the finest underwear you can find. Some lacy stuff, not too effeminate, but eccentric designers stuff, Gucci maybe, will do. When he is ready, let me know. He has to travel tonight, but we have to sedate him. Put some Benzedrine in his food, he will need it as these scars won't heal to fast. Redouane kissed Gunnar on the lips and said: Beslama (see you). Mugabe was an opportunist, Redouane though, not much taste. He wanted his kicks and get his rocks off, that's all. Ghadafi, that's another level, but I am apprehensive about Amin, a butcher, cannibal, in short a psycho, Only Allah knows what he will do or demand. A week later as Redouane was lying on his king-size bed frolicking with me, when a limousine made halt in front of the house. It was twelve midnight. Who could that be? I thought. -Move it, Rashid, back to your quarters, he ordered me. -Why? -No questions this time and call the Gnawas. Some impatient person was ringing insistently the bell. He was escorted by two bodyguards who looked nervously around. Redouane had been waiting all night for that one important ring at his door. That's why he needed some distraction with me. But I wasn't that dumb, I had secret voyeur spot, which the Gnawas had shown me. I surely didn't want to miss this show. Anyway, I did what was told and had called for the guards and told them to be ready when Master clapped his hands. We all knew who was his guest now: His Bedouin highness President Ghadafi. Redouane wore his finest djelabah, a Kashmir evening robe. -Asalam Aleikhoum (Be welcome in my home), Sir Ghadafi. They walked through the hall which was only used by VIP's. -Please take a seat, and please feel at home at my humble residency. Redouane pointed at the Louis Quatorze chair that he had been given during one of the visits of emperor Bokassa. A man in a silk blue caftan and the finest shoes I have ever seen, walked in. Muamar Ghadafi, nodded at his bodyguards to stay in front of the door. It was fifteen past midnight. The door closed behind him. He walked with an air of a prince toward the centre of the room and looked around. Two guards preceded him and looked in every nook and cranny. Muamar Ghadafi glanced briefly at the many photographs of King Hassan II that decorated the walls. He smiled and thought: you sur emade your mark in this country, but who of us will reign the longest? He looked back at Redouane and saw how servile he was. Ghadafi liked Redouane instantly. -I heard much about you in the royal palaces in Kuwait, Jeddah, Syria, Oman and many more. They are enchanted with your high quality service. Your name is one everyone's lips nowadays. You should pride yourself. He paused , gave some further instructions to his guards who disappeared through the front door. So, now that we are private I would like to discuss the subject I have come for. After many letters I had sent to you with my wishes I have come in person to make my wishes come true. Redouane clapped his hands and the Gnawas came with the traditional mint tea. Which was served in crystal glasses. The water pipe stood ready too. It made it all very cosy. Ghadafi, was very impatient, one could notice that. He looked at the guards as if he was going to jump them. I was glad I would not have to serve that man. He had something eerie about him. The way he opened his mouth, this sphinx like smile. He surely loved to dress in style. He was of another calibre than Mugabe, that I could tell. -Let's get down to business, Habibi (friend), shall we? Where is that boy Gunnar, you wrote me about? -He is at the salve quarters, your excellency. I'll have him here immediately. I know it is late but the party will be up to your taste. I have arranged for all you asked for and taken care of the tiniest of details. -Safi, safi (ok), Ghadafi spoke. After he had clapped in his hands, the Gnawas ran quickly to the desert room. -You wrote me that he is still a virgin, Ghadafi, said. So, he is very tight? And I know about the size of his cock, which is small. That was a request of mine. I recall you wrote me that he was not that smooth because Vikings have quite hairy arses. You know I don't like hairy arses at all. -We have taken care of all that, your excellency. We had him waxed all over, his body is worth a baby seal fur. -Hamdoulah, (praised be the Lord) he exclaimed with his hands in the air. Redouane touched the whip he had at close range. Muamar saw that and with a smirk asked him: -You love whips too? -Sometimes, it is necessary...and you your highness? -I adore it, very handy, you see for disobedient slaves Ghadafi was about to say something revealing about his special tastes when all of a sudden the curtains moved and two Gnawas brought in a boy whose head hung down. He wore a cloak. The body was strong and muscular, one could guess that even though he wore a red robe draped over his body. It looked very much like a cape without a hood. His hands were tied together and stuck out from the front. Ghadifi, jolted nearly form his chair, excited as he was. -Perfect, zouin, zouin (beautiful), he exclaimed. How wonderful he looks. Look at me, Gunnar! He ordered. The head slowly tilted upwards, Ghadafi grabbed his chin. -Do you know who I am? He said, while he squeezed his left cheek. The boy shook his head. -I am Pilate and you are C... -I am not...Ouch! The boy cringed and shut up. Redouane had hit him on his ankles with his whip. The whip then travelled over his calve following the shaven right inner leg and thrusted with a well aimed push at his balls, which drove the pouch way up touching Muamar's crotch which was now clearly visible. The colonel had taken off his caftan and stood in a speckles white robe. The light from the back made it translucent and so to see, he wasn't wearing any underwear. Redouane too was in awe watching his VIP guest's rod push a tent in his dress. But he had to swallow quickly and tap Gunnar on the fingers. -You are not allowed to interrupt his highness, you hear? Redouane spoke. -As I was about to say...you are Christ. We will play this perfectly, won't we? Take of your robe. I want to see how a Christ body looks like... The boy dropped the robe on the floor an stood stark naked. He shivered not so much because he felt cold but because of hands that touched his shoulders and kept them in a firm grip. Ghadafi turned him around, the withdrew his hands and walked around him, touching his skin about everywhere. His index finger run along his spine and stopped just where his bottom cheeks parted. The finger jumped into the broad white glen. -Very sweaty here, is this fear sweat, Jesus? I read in your Holy book that you had a favourite disciple called John. He must have been only nine years old when you knew him. You must have liked him very much. Did you have sex with him? -Now you answer me and say: Yes, I did. -Yes, I did. Then he took Redouane's whip and passed it through the crack, going for his scrotum. The whip surfaced at the other side lifting the penis in the air. He pulled at the long foreskin, yanking it as far as he could. -A real Christian whore, huh. But I kick on those foreskins. I like to chew on it, don't you Habibi (friend)? -Sure, your excellency, but that one has never been chewed, ever. -I believe you on your word, you wouldn't lie to me, no would you. Your reputation would be at stake, wouldn't it? -Exactly, your excellency. He got on his knees and prodded the whip from below against his perineum. -Clean shaven, I must admit. I don't see a single little hair anywhere. Redouane squeezed his legs for a moment as he nearly came watching colonel Ghadafi explore the boy's body like a biologist. -Very nice indeed. But you don't seem to like this game, don't you, Gunnar? Gunnar refused to answer. He knew that could be dangerous. -Where can I take him, habibi? -We have a special room which I indicated to you in my letter, your highness. If you like you can proceed there in total privacy. Of course I will withdraw myself and leave you with this fabulous Gunnar. If you need help, you clap your hands and the guards who are stand by will come running to you. Ghadafi purred his lips and said: -Sure, straight away. The heavy doors closed with a bang and both men found themselves in a room which even Ghadafi would not have been able to imagine. It had all a king could wish for. Weapons of all kind, contraptions only Da Vinci could have invented. And in the back stood a range of crossbows and arrows: the archer room, would have been more appropriate a name for this space. -Gunnar, stay put. He said. What happened next is what I and the guards remember having seen. Ghadafi went for a bow and grabbed a few arrows. -Hu Allah (God is great), Ghadafi whispered to himself. Dildo studded arrows like he had promised! He leapt back to Gunnar and told him to get on all fours and bend forward real far sticking up his arse and parting the cheeks as far as he could. Gunnar, got shit scared as he started pissing right there in front of his lordship. -Sir, no, please, you make a mistake...I am not Gunnar, you must believe me, he said in perfect English. My name is Hans! Ghadafi stood perplex at first and then laughed at him. -Shut up, you white trash. Hans, Gunnar, whatever...who cares? I like your muscled butt, your rosy coloured pig hole, and we are going to make it merry just now. The dildo on the arrow was small land made of rubber, prelubed and about as small as a live one of a thirteen year old could possibly sport. He had pushed Hans down who burst out in sobbing like a toddler, but with his cheeks wide open. Ghadafi clapped his hands. My friends ran to him on the double. -Keep that arse open. One of them straddled over Hans' curved back facing Ghadafi, pulling at the cheeks. A hard job, if you ask me. Because the butt was truly muscled. Maybe as muscled as that of Rambo or Conan! Hu Allah, I love those muscled men from the West, I hope to meet one who really loves me as much as Redouane does and who will take me to Paris or New York! But let me get on with my story. The bow was not larger than a mere crossbow. He aimed at Hans' anus, which was nearly blinking at Ghadafi. To be sure it would enter deep enough he decide to shoot at close range. Two hands away from his widening hole, he stood aiming. Ready? He asked the guards. The other one secured Hans' hands on the floor. Hans did not know what was about to happen. But he feared the worst. The oil was dripping from the phallus' edge like enriched sperm from a bull. His right eye turned into a slit, he pulled the trigger and WHAM!!!! Hans torso jerked upwards with excruciating pain. -Straight into the rose! Ghadafi yelled. With him my friends, the Gnawas jeered too, they had never witnessed such an awesome way of sex. But Ghadafi, had his eyes set on something broader and bigger. He leapt to the arrows rack again. One by one he stroked them. He now had one of about four centimetres wide and ten centimetres long. It was dark of course in the room with a few spots attached to the ceiling which was made of glass. One could see the southern Cross shining like crystal. -Help him up, and make him stop yelping. Put a rag in his trap. Ghadafi said this while at the same time he was screwing the first dildo a bit deeper. -You like it, Jesus? -Hans nodded. But his face spoke another language, one of devastation. With a brisk pull, he yanked the dildo out of his arse. A little bit of blood trickled from the arrow shaft. Ghadafi put it his mouth and liked at it as if he were a lollypop addict. -It seems to work, but you are indeed very tight...we have to work on this. Get up. The trembling Hans got on his feet with the arrow still up his arse. -I like this, Christ with a dildo up his butt. Yummy, he said. Now another one will come, be prepared... Ghadafi's eyes became mean and full of lust and desire. The guards were sucking at the smaller dildo in front of Hans then pushing it into his mouth. -Ready boys, get hold of him once more. The super arrow shone like black ebony. The crossbow stood steady against the colonel' shoulder.. One boy had squatted on Hans skull which was now kissing the floor. The other boy tore nearly the cheeks apart, dug a finger in it to relax the muscle. -This is to help you, Hans, don't take as an abuse, he whispered in Arab. The anus was a salmon pink very nicely ribbed and well lubed by the first arrow. -Ready sir, the Gnawa said. He could feel Hans' butt muscles cramp and twitch. -Sssssssssstac, it sounded. The dildo had gone halfway deep. Hans cringed and wailed. -Get him up...where is the crown?? -Over there sir ...near the cross. I could spot a huge cross on the floor. -Get him over there then, quick. The boys took the stumbling Hans near a huge cross. -Turn around Hans, the colonel said. Bow your head. Hans listened well. The colonel pushed a thorn crown over his wispy head. The thorns scarred his forehead and back. Instantly the blood flowed. -Look up at me. You are a good actor, I like you Hans. Now lay on your butt on that cross. I want to pull out the dildo and give you good fuck. The dildo had dug itself with ease into the ribbed rosy hole. I had gotten halfway only, but Ghadafi was super happy. Hans lay prostrate, howling like a wounded wolf as the colonel began to push it even deeper. -I wash my hands in innocence. You are such a cry baby, I could flog you if I wanted.. You know in my country we drill twelve year olds by shooting in front of their feet whilst they run in circles. Open your legs... and you guys hold his legs over his head. -Please sir, let me go. I never wanted to be here, I got drugged and kept here as a slave. My family must be worried sick and my girlfriend may kill herself for me if she doesn't see me again. -How dramatic, I didn't know Christ had a girlfriend...is her name Magdalena.¿ Ghadafi nearly lay double when he thought of the situation he was in. -Shut up now and take it like a man. Ghadafi undressed fast, his cock stood royal gleaming with pulsating veins from the glans to the base. It was huge and impressive. -Let me teach you how Bedouins make love to their slaves. Hans lay curled up like a foetus, which was so much easier for Ghadafi to get to his insides. -You know, you have no choice, I must have you...I came all the way from Libya. He continued talking while his fingers pried open the resisting rebellious sphincter. Hans bit his lips once more as the monster cock moved in, nearly tearing apart his twitching anus. He wept like a girl, but Ghadafi ruthlessly pushed harder and harder his manhood into his entrails. -I got you on a drumstick, boy. Like a Viking Kebab. -I am not Gunnar, sir -Shut up, I don't care. The colonel went on and on fucking him on the cross. Hans kept on weeping, the more he wept the stronger Gahdafi holed him. The he release a long eerie sigh, he came in shockwaves, instinctly Hans clasped his legs around his waist. The thorns hurt him, he couldn't enjoy the fuck because of it. Ghadafi stood up quickly, had himself cleaned by the Gnawas and told them to tie Hans on the cross and erect it right there. -I want you to think well about who you are going to serve, my dear Viking Hans or whatever you are, because in an hour I will take you into my limo and you can say goodbye to your Master and your girlfriend. And so he left with not one word more, took a bath in Redouane's Jacuzzi and relaxed. You want to hear more of this?? Write at aihufist@yahoo.com