Fourteen-year-old boy whore, Gabriel Beaventon, had made the mistake of becoming enticing to Sir Walter Peterson, the procurer of the London brothel he’d been consigned to by his erstwhile mentor, Baron Wilhelm von Sternburg. Sir Walter already had a lover--the poet George Smythe--and he was a jealous lover. The brothel had cut off the Egyptian aristocrat, Kasha Bey, from its client list for the cruelty the Egyptian had dispensed to the brothel boys. To rid himself of competition, George Smythe sent Gabriel to Kasha Bey.

For two nights, in frequent sessions, Gabriel was hung, naked, on a hook in the basement sexual torture chamber of Kasha Bey’s London mansion and whipped and fucked by both Kasha Bey and his tall, gaunt, incredibly equipped in length, servant, Ali. On days three through five, Gabriel wasn’t whipped--Kasha Bey had decided he needed him in pristine physical condition for what he planned to do with Gabriel--which, by agreement with George Smythe, wasn’t to send him back to Sir Walter. But, although the Egyptians didn’t whip Gabriel, he was repeatedly fucked, bound to various apparatuses in the torture chamber, for pleasure and to completely cow him by both Kasha Bey and Ali.

The sixth day Gabriel was bundled aboard the Egyptian’s yacht, which put out to sea. Going to sea in 1935 was already a perilous risk, as provocative attacks were frequently being carried out in the run up to the war in Europe. But for Kasha Bey to remain in London with his connections to the rising Axis powers in Europe was also too risky. So, off to Egypt they headed.

It took several days at sea for Gabriel to realize that he was disoriented by more than the occasional visits of Kasha Bey or Ali to his locked cabin to fuck him. He was losing large chunks of time. And there always seemed to be a cloying sickly sweet odor permeating his cabin. He only figured it out one day off the coast of a country Gabriel couldn’t identify, when Ali chose to subdue him during the day rather than sometime in the middle of the night when Gabriel was sleeping and Ali stole in to place the drug-laced handkerchief over Gabriel’s nose and mouth.

Ali was delivering food to the boy, but Gabriel, his hands bound, was in a feisty mood, tired of the treatment he was getting and the refusal of either one of his captors to tell him where the yacht was headed. Gabriel turned over the plate of food Ali was holding out, dumping its contents on the deck. It was a day when Ali was on edge too--they had barely outrun a vessel that clearly wanted to run them down off the coast of France.

Losing control, Ali grabbed Gabriel--who had been kept naked and bound throughout the sail--turned the boy facing away from him, and gathered Gabriel into his body. He was much taller than Gabriel was. He didn’t lift the boy off the deck, but he bent him over, reached between them, unbuttoned himself, and released his long, long cock, which perpetually was in erection when he was around Gabriel. He palmed the boy’s belly in a large, strong hand and lifted him up, pulling him into his groin.

It was no effort for the bulb of the long, hard cock to find Gabriel’s anal opening and to penetrate it--or, using his palm on Gabriel’s belly to pull the boy’s channel onto the cock, reaching far up in the boy’s gut with it and starting to pump. In response, Gabriel cried out; squirmed ineffectually; gasped, groaned, and moaned; and, eventually, went limp and just hung there while Ali continued pumping his ass to an ejaculation.

The Egyptian servant assumed that he had fucked the boy into unconsciousness, but he hadn’t. Gabriel had just totally relaxed to be able to take the long cock up into his gut with a minimum of pain. When Ali took the drugged handkerchief out of his pocket and held it over Gabriel’s mouth and nose, Gabriel had a moment of recognition of why he seemed so disoriented all the time and had been sleeping in such long spells. He was being drugged.

He couldn’t do anything about the drugging except try to cut down on its effect by guessing correctly when it was happening, holding his breath while it was happening, and going limp to give the impression that it was working full strength. It was a hit and miss process.

He’d been successful on the day he stood at his porthole and watched the Rock of Gibraltar go by as the yacht entered the Mediterranean. Gabriel had seen the rock formation before from the sea when his mentor, Baron von Sternburg, had taken he and his mother to Tangiers earlier in the year--when Gabriel had only recently turned fourteen. It seemed to him that he had lived a lifetime since then, even though he still was fourteen for another month.

So, he knew they were going someplace in the Mediterranean.

That was the last time during the voyage that he was fully conscious, however. From that point, Ali used the drugged handkerchief more often and Gabriel was able to stave off its effects less frequently.

The last landmark Gabriel could later remember seeing was the Rock of Gibraltar. When they arrived in Alexandria, Egypt, and he was transported, unconscious, farther into the interior of Egypt, Gabriel had no idea he’d been delivered to a slave auction house in Cairo--and not to just any slave auction house. This one specialized in delivering kidnapped European boys to the Egyptian sex trade. Gabriel wasn’t Kasha Bey’s first “catch” to feed this market.

When Gabriel came to, he thought he’d been dropped into the Arabian Nights. The room was stone-walled with a vaulted ceiling and high-off-the-floor, heavily barred arched windows. The furnishings, such as they were, were composed entirely of oriental carpets, mattress platforms covered in silk, and a scattering of large, damask-covered pillows. Gabriel was lying on his back on one of the mattress platforms. He was only wearing diaphanous, billowy harem pants and lace-up sandals. He had gold serpent bracelets banded around above each of his biceps and around his ankles.

His legs were bent and spread, his buttocks raised on a pillow. The harem pants had a slit in them up the backside. He had been fucked by something huge--by some man with a big cock. He could feel that his channel was gaping open and he could feel the cum in his channel.

He wasn’t alone. There were three other boys, all blonds of European extraction, lying around on the pillows too, two with the same wary, scared expression Gabriel knew he instantly had formed when he woke. The third had a more pained, exhausted look on his face. He was on his back on one of the platforms and beefy dark-skinned, naked Egyptian was crouched over him, between his thighs, holding the boy’s legs spread and raised. The Egyptian was fucking the boy, who was lying there, apparently worn out from a struggle not to be in his position, his head turned toward Gabriel, a dull look of surrender on his face.

As Gabriel looked, the Egyptian pulled his cock nearly all of the way out of the and slammed it home. The boy jerked, gave a little cry, and turned his head away from Gabriel. The Egyptian fucked on.

Each of the blond boys was dressed, or undressed, in the same manner that Gabriel was. At the corners of the room stood three men looking like thugs and watching the fourth one fucking the blond boy. Two of the standing men, a dark-skinned Egyptian and a European man, blond and probably in his late twenties or early thirties, were wearing white Egyptian thawbs--robes. The fourth, an Egyptian, was naked and stroking the most gigantic cock Gabriel had ever seen. All were muscle men. Seeing that Gabriel was conscious, the European stepped forward and addressed Gabriel.

“Good. You’re back with us. Good timing. They will send for you soon.”

“They?” Gabriel asked. “Where am I and what am I doing here? I’ve been assaulted while I was unconscious. Did you know that--”

“Yes, I knew that. It is a jailer’s prerogative here when a new boy is brought in,” he said. “Just as this is my prerogative.” He sat down beside Gabriel, slipped the harem pants off Gabriel’s legs, and wrapped a hand around the boy’s cock. Gabriel started to harden up under the man’s attentions. He was a handsome young man.

“A jailer’s prerogative? Are those men my jailers?” Gabriel asked, gesturing to the three dark-skinned Egyptians in the corner of the room.

“Yes. So am I. Don’t expect mercy from me just because I am a European and they are Egyptian.”

“One of them has had me?”

“Three have. Two of them took you together--but together they don’t match Issa Souda. That’s why he will be the last. You have quite a talent. The auctioneer was informed.”

“You too? You have been inside me?” Then Gabriel moaned, because the man had been stroking a finger over his hole and now had slipped it inside him.

“Yes, of course. I am inside you now.” Gabriel arched his back and slitted his eyes, as the man sought out his prostate with the finger and found it.

“You are quite enjoyable. It’s a pity you won’t be here long enough for me to use you fully while you are conscious. That would be particularly pleasant if you tried to prevent it.”

What was the use, Gabriel thought. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this and it wasn’t like he hadn’t been fucked by big bruisers like these before. He changed tack. “Auctioneer. What is this about an auctioneer? Where am I? Where is Kasha Bey?”

“You’re here for the auction,” the European said, and then he gave Gabriel a sardonic little smile.

“What? What the hell?” Gabriel asked. “I’m not interested in any auction ... what’s being auctioned?”

“You’re not a buyer,” he answered, and Gabriel thought the man would break out into a laugh. “You’re what’s being auctioned. Kasha Bey has brought you here to be auctioned off. To boy brothels. You are in Cairo. You and the other boys here are being sold to brothels. Egyptians love to fuck blond-haired European boys. I should know. I was in the system once myself. Kasha Bey said he brought you from a brothel in England--that even though you are young, you have special talents in pleasing a man.”

“People can’t be auctioned in this day and age. Slavery’s dead, haven’t you heard?” Gabriel’s speech was a bit slurred, though, as the man was working his prostate expertly. He panted and felt his cum on the rise. The man was stroking his cock too.

“I think you understand slavery quite well,” the man said. “You are a slave to this. You don’t really want me to stop.” He gestured to his hand stroking Gabriel’s cock. Gabriel shuddered and spouted cum.

“And to this,” the man said as he rolled over on top of Gabriel, between the boy’s thighs, bunched up his thawb around his bare waist, reached down to position his erection, and slid into Gabriel. With a sigh, Gabriel opened his channel to the penetrating cock. The two moved together, as the man slow fucked him, his forehead touching Gabriel’s and their eyes locked together. Gabriel moved his pelvis in rhythm to the stroking of the man’s cock inside him. He grasped the man’s muscular biceps in his hands, moved the heels of his feet to the meat of the man’s calves, and went with the motion of the deep fuck, moaning and sighing for the man.

The man jerked and came, pulled out of Gabriel and returned to a sitting position beside him.

“That’s what you are a slave to, isn’t it?” he said. “You were bred to fuck.”

“Yes,” Gabriel admitted. Lying there, panting slightly, feeling mellow.

“Slavery isn’t dead here in Egypt. You’re in Cairo. And, Caucasian to Caucasian, let me strongly suggest that you convince the auctioneer he wants to keep you for his own brothel. I can guarantee you won’t want to go with any of the other men who are at today’s auction.”

Across the room the boy being fucked gave a little cry and the beefy Egyptian who had been on top of him rose from the platform. He looked at the other two boys, both who cowered and moved a bit away from his lustful stare. Picking his choice out, he moved swiftly to the boy, show jabbered a bit and struggle a bit more when the Egyptian took him in hand, cried out when the man had put him on all fours, mounted him, and penetrated him, and then settled down as he was being fucked.

While Gabriel was watching this, he failed to notice that the European had withdrawn from the platform, and the biggest Egyptian of them all, the one with the monster erection in his hand, the one the European jailer had called Issa Soudah, was standing there, inches from Gabriel, grinning at him.

Gabriel made to bound off the platform and try to find someplace, some way to evade the monster Egyptian, but Issa Soudah was too fast for him. He grabbed Gabriel and the two wrestled, the Egyptian giant laughing, obviously toying with Gabriel, delighted that Gabriel was resisting. Exhausted, Gabriel could do more than babble his objections, when the giant sat down on the platform, gathered Gabriel into his lap, facing away from him, and pull Gabriel’s passage down onto his throbbing erection. It was a long, taxing journey, with Gabriel huffing and puffing and his eyes bugging out. The European was right. The Egyptian had a cock to rival that of two hung men.

When he had it in to the root, he held there, waiting for Gabriel to adjust to it, and then turned Gabriel belly to bed without dislodging the cock, stretched on top of Gabriel’s trembling body, and mined the boy’s passage thick and deep, exercising his jailer’s prerogative. Recognizing that he couldn’t deny that he had been bred for this and now needed it, once Gabriel’s passage had adjusted to the mammoth cock, he settled down and enjoyed the ride. It was the biggest cock he’d had--and he was having it.

The European jailer briefly explained while the boys were being herded down the narrow, stone-walled passageway what was going to happen now. The boys would be sent, one by one, into an entertainment room, where they would see five men spread in a semicircle around a small platform stage, reclining on pillows. Off to the would be located a couple of divans for the five men to use, as they wished. There would be music and the boys were to dance for them. If a boy danced well, one of the men might bid on him. If the boy didn’t dance, he possibly was living his last day. If not sold, the boy would be handed back to the jailers to be used up and tossed away. The men could take their purchases away and do whatever they wished with them.

A small, lithe, but well-built French boy was sent in first. The others stood out in the corridor, waiting their turn, as they heard the music begin. Shortly, the boys in the corridor heard the raised voices of men, bidding enthusiastically. Then a period of silence.

Gabriel was the second one to be sent in. Four men were sitting in a semicircle around the spotlighted platform he was led to and made to stand on. He had been told that there would be five, but as his eyes adjusted to the contrast of the spotlight in which he stood and shadowy, smoke-filled edges around the platform, Gabriel saw that buyer number five was already trying out his purchase over on one of the pillow-strewn divans at the side of the room. The French boy who had preceded Gabriel was on his belly on the divan, half on and half off it. A large-bellied, middle-aged Egyptian, thawb lifted up and bunched under his armpits and naked underneath, was crouched between the boy’s legs, already ready to mount him. Mounting the boy would be a little difficult as the buyer was very fat and his erection barely peeked out from underneath his stomach roll. Somehow he would manage, though.

Gabriel tore his eyes away from that scene and looked back at the four remaining men. Three of them were pretty gross, fat and middle-aged and ugly, just like the man climbing on top of the French boy on the divan. The fourth one was younger and more comely and well-muscled. He showed that he was in charge by gesturing for the music to start.

This was where Gabriel was supposed to dance and, the European jailer’s warning ringing in his ears, convince the auctioneer, obviously the younger, more presentable of the men, that he wanted to keep him. Gabriel started to undulate with the music, never having been a dancer before, but being a dancer now for dear life.

He was egged on by the cries from the side of the room, where the older man was slapping the French boy hard, on his face, arms, legs, and buttocks, while, having managed to mount the lad, he drove his cock inside a barely ready hole. The older man had the younger man by the hair with one fist, and he reached for a riding crop with the other. The man rode the boy like they were in a horse race. The cries from the boy rose and the expressions of the three older men watching Gabriel dance--whose eyes were flicking at the fucking at the side and then back at Gabriel--left no doubt of how this combination aroused them. They all had hands inside their thawbs, stroking themselves off.

Gabriel could see interest in the eyes of the younger buyer, but not yet a “sold” sign.

In panic, Gabriel pulled out all of the stops. He danced, but he danced only for this younger man, the man holding all of the power. While Gabriel danced, he traced his cock through the diaphanous fabric of his harem pants, leaving little to the imagination of what he had in there and that it was getting hard, hard for the younger man among the bidders. He turned and bent over, moving his buttocks to the rhythm of the music. He pushed his harem pants down in back and gave the buyers a view of his puckering hole. More than one of the buyers gasped.

He had had much practice in getting hard for men he didn’t desire, and he brought all of that art to play here. By the time he had pushed the front of the harem pants below his ball sack and shown what he had and was stroking it, Gabriel could tell he had sold the younger man. He had his thawb bunched up around his waist, his hand was in his lap, and he was stroking himself. He had a very nice cock. That encouraged Gabriel to make the sale to him.

Gabriel heard the younger man cry out one word in Arabic. He had raised a hand--the one not teasing his cock--in the air, and the music stopped immediately.