The English boy gasped and bunched up the sheeting on the small bed in the male brothel in the Aden Settlement in his small hands and in his mouth as well, as the tall, British East India Company chief clerk grasped the boy’s slim hips, positioned the bulb of his long, snake-like cock at the youth’s hole, and drove up deep, deep, deep inside him. The young whore didn’t look like most of the other boys for sale in the brothel. He was blond, with blue eyes. When Samuel Pierce had seen him in the line of boys being offered, he had asked how the boy had come to be there—disapprovingly suspicious that the boy had been kidnapped from one of the trade-related British family living in the settlement near the mouth of the Bab-el-Mandeb entry into the Gulf of Aden in the 1880s. The local Arab slavers were not above capturing a comely blond boy with curly hair and a perfectly formed small body such as this boy had. It was Pierce’s duty not to condone such a thing, although his loins had ached for the boy from the moment he’d seen him, naked, in line. He clearly would pick the boy if he could.

“No, Seydi—Sire—the boy signed on with us willingly. He is only slightly used.”

“How can this be? I think he is English.”

“Yes, Seydi, he is English. He was a cabin boy in a British ship that sank off the coast. No one took him in when he reached Aden. He was living on the streets and says he prefers service here and living in our luxury and eating our food to dying in the alleys of Aden.”

Pierce snorted. “If he was a cabin boy on a British ship, he is not only slightly used.”

“He says it was his first voyage, Seydi. He will serve you well. He looks delicate, but he is resilient, and, one voyage, he is only used enough to lie under a man and to know how to please him. He is yielding.”

“You know he is yielding?” Pierce asked.

“Yes, Seydi, I know.”

Pierce laughed, knowing what that meant.

“For a price, you can do what you wish with him,” the house master said. “For a greater price you may be the last to use him and we will handle disposal.”

“He’d better be good,” Pierce said. He opened his purse, and took out a sum of money that made the whore master’s eyes slit and his tongue to lick his lips.

“Whatever you wish, Seydi.”

“For all night,” Pierce said.

“Certainly, Seydi.”

“How old is he?” Pierce asked.

“He claims to be fourteen, Seydi.”

It was the forty-five-year-old trading company chief clerk’s turn to slit his eyes and lick his lips with his tongue. “Take him to a very private room,” he said. “Do not disturb us no matter what you hear coming from the room.”

“Yes, Seydi. Certainly, Seydi. Do you have a knife, or do you wish—?”

“Yes, I have a knife.”

Nathan had been picked for his blond Caucasian looks, paid for for the night by a an elegantly clad, handsome official of the ruling British company in Aden in the late nineteenth century. Pierce was of patrician bearing—tall and slim and lean and hard bodied. British East India clerks were not soft men. The man had requested a Caucasian-looking, small, boyish-looking male, who was fresh and narrow hipped to, as he said, “be put through all of the paces.” He had paid a premium price. His usual pick was an Arab boy, but that was because there were so few European boys available. Those who became available did not last long. The Arabs preferred the European boys and the Arabs fucked to the finish; they enjoyed the killing of a European as much as the fucking of him.

From experience, the house master knew the whore boy would be out of commission for a while after lying under Pierce, if, indeed, he could ever be used again. Samuel Pierce, a member of the ruling class in Aden by virtue of his position in the British East India company was well known in this most discriminating male brothel in the settlement for his refined and exotic, but cruel, sexual tastes. The house master gave him Nathan, barely fourteen, recently forced into the trade to avoid starvation or capture and used unwillingly from the streets. He certainly was what Pierce wished for from any boy: small, slim hipped, yielding, and submissive. As with any hung man, the penetrating of a slim-hipped boy’s hole provided extra pleasures. It remained to be heard whether the boy was as vocal in the taking as Pierce liked. He liked to know that he was taking something of value from the boy. He wanted to hear that from the boy himself.

Samuel wasn’t thick but he was godawful long. When he had disrobed, after slowly unclothing Nathan as he twisted, fondled, and kissed the nubile, boyish body, he stood before Nathan, who was reclining back on his elbows on the bed as Samuel disrobed before him, and smiled when Nathan gasped. Samuel had been a soldier in his younger days. His hard-muscled, slender body showed the signs of hand-to-hand combat. Nathan didn’t overlook that the man, even naked, had a sheathed knife strapped to one of his calves. Pierce was so solid that his veins ran just under the surface of his skin, not having any deeper fat tissue to hide in. But what had made Nathan gasp was that the man’s cock would have almost run down to his knees if he hadn’t been magnificently erect.

When Pierce was naked and had exhibited his capable maleness in more aspect than one to Nathan, he reached down, pulled the boy up from the bed, turned him to facing away from him, pulled him into his body, and wrapped his arms around Nathan. The boy trembled and moaned. The cock had found its way into the crease between the boy’s buttocks and the underside of the shaft was rubbing up and down across the boy’s hole as Pierce rocked his body up and down on the balls of his feet. One hand was palming one of Nathan’s breasts and worrying the boy’s nipple and the other one was stroking the boy’s cock.

“Take me. Fuck me now,” Nathan murmured, not only to get the fuck going so as to be finished sooner but also because the man’s body aroused him. He wanted to sheath that long cock. He hadn’t been covered by a hard-bodied European man since English sailors had torn his virginity out of him and passed him around on the British vessel.

“All in good time, my lad,” Samuel said. “Ere we’re done, you will know you have been fucked. But there is no time but the present, I suppose. I am hard enough to touch your tonsils from inside.” And, indeed, that did appear to be true.

The first time Samuel fucked Nathan, he was crouched over the back of the boy, who was bent over the side of the bed, standing on the floor by the bed—but not for long. Samuel was athletic and inventive—and cruelly demanding when he didn’t have to be less so in seducing his prey. Usually when he had a European boy under him, the boy was not from a brothel and Pierce had to be careful about what happened after he had had his way with the lad. With what he had paid for Nathan, Samuel could do as he liked.

When he had gotten inside the young man to the hilt, which took time and effort because of the length of him, he grasped Nathan’s legs and fully extended them out to the side. Then he stepped up onto the bed, forcing Nathan to reach for the surface of the bed with his fists. Thus upended, the small whore boy had all he could contend with to stay in place, although Samuel’s strong hand grips on his thighs held him secure.

Nathan stalwartly took the cock without involuntary complaint or sobbing. The sailors on the ship had been as rough with him. The Arabs he’d already serviced in the brothel had been rougher. Samuel fucked the boy deep in long, slow slides with his long, long cock, and Nathan was both yielding and experienced enough to give the man what he wanted, including the sounds of being mastered by one of the best. Indeed, Nathan appreciated being fucked by a European after having lain under a number of Arabs.

When Samuel came, they weren’t finished—not by a long shot. He lowered the boy’s quaking and moaning body to the surface of the bed and sat beside him, running his hands over Nathan’s body—gliding and fondling, squeezing and prodding. He cupped the boy’s tailbone and inserted a thumb in the youth’s ass.

“Yes, yes. Fuck me again,” the whore boy whispered in his obligatory comment to a client. “Put your cock in me again. I want your juice.” In fact, he was a little wary of being fucked again. The cock had sunk to depths that no cock head had explored before.

“You have no idea what you are going to get from me—what you are going to endure on this night, if you can,” Samuel answered. He pulled two red silk scarves from a bag he had brought with him and placed beside the bed.

“Pull your arms to behind your back,” he said. “I’m going to bind your wrists.” Looking slightly frightened, Nathan did as directed, and Samuel bound his wrists together with one of the red scarves. He gagged the boy’s mouth with the other one.

“Lie back on the bed, please.” Samuel said in a calm voice. Whimpering, Nathan did as directed. He shuddered as the man moved his hand over his belly, hips, cock, and balls, and ran his fingers through Nathan’s pubic hair. Nathan heard him voice a quiet, “Very nice,” and sigh. “Spread your legs, please. Bend your left leg and put your foot flat on the bed. Raise your right leg and put your ankle on my left shoulder. Yes, like that. This pillow goes under your lower back, like this. Now we begin.”

The man knew what he wanted. The man knew what he was going to do.

Nathan watched in trembling trepidation as Samuel took a dark green jade bowl out of his bag and placed it on the bed beside them. Next came a small flask, and Samuel poured a generous amount of scented oil in the bowl and, as he returned the flask of oil to the bag, pulled out a huge dark green jade phallus, very thick of circumference and a good foot long.