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I had two reasons to celebrate: it was my 21st birthday and I was finally leaving hell-on-earth—Saudi Arabia. I was in the customs line at the airport and couldn’t wait to get on the airplane.
The past year meant nothing to me except now I could go home and afford to put myself through college. One year of hard work and solitude; I drove a road-grader 10-12 hours-a-day and spent the evenings reading in the library at the compound where I was living.
I even taught myself a rudimentary understanding of the local language. I worked with many Saudi’s and I wanted to know what they were saying when they talked to each other while pointing at me. I learned their comments were crude and usually sexually suggestive. More than once I was propositioned by local men. I explained that I wasn’t ‘that way’; they laughed at me but left me alone.
I was able to send home over ninety-thousand dollars tax-free. That would mean tuition, a nice apartment and a car. It felt like I was getting out of prison and starting a new life. I was feeling good for the first time in many, many months.
The airport was teeming with young, Saudi military personnel carrying rifles—that made me nervous. I knew their behavior was erratic and unpredictable. I just wanted out of that country.
Everything happened so quickly that it’s a blur in my head.
I heard a dog barking—I saw its bared fangs snarling at me—soldiers surrounded me—someone opened my luggage and pulled out a square-shaped package. I tried to explain that it wasn’t mine—that I had no idea how it got into my suitcase. No one listened to me.
It was chaos. Five-six soldiers all shouting at me at the same time. I was pushed to the floor—I bumped my head. My arms were almost ripped off my shoulders as they were twisted behind my back and handcuffed.
I began shouting—”THIS IS A MISTAKE—THAT ISN’T MY PACKAGE—LET ME GO—LET ME GO”…my screams fell on deaf ears.
A soldier kicked me in the stomach knocking the air out of me. I was dragged half-standing-half-kneeling to a police van outside. They threw me inside and I landed on my belly. I remained in that position the entire ride to the police station.
When my mind was finally able to understand what had happened, I began to tremble and shake—I’d never known fear like that in my entire life. I fought hard not to piss myself. The darkest foreboding engulfed me.
This was not going to go well, I thought. I had no clue as to how much worse it was going to get. I had no idea that this was just the start of my Arabian nightmare.
Some people claim that during an especially traumatic experience in their lives everything seemed to be in slow-motion. Not with me. It all appeared to be going in fast-forward.
Everyone was screaming and shouting at me. They pushed me through the police station to a shower room.
I was forcibly stripped naked—two soldiers held me while a third donned a rubber glove. I was bent over and my legs were kicked apart. The one wearing the glove coated his middle finger with an oily substance and smiled at me.
“Since you are a known drug dealer I must perform a ‘cavity search’—relax—who knows, you might enjoy this.”
The hair stood up on the back of my neck.
“NO-NO—I’M NOT A DRUG DEALER—THAT WASN’T MY PACKAGE—SOMEONE ELSE PUT IT IN MY LUGGAGE,” I pleaded.
He ignored my protest and I felt his finger press against my anus. He had difficulty inserting his finger inside me.
“Relax, boy…loosen yourself–it won’t hurt as much—you might even enjoy it,” he repeated.
He forced his entire finger inside my rectum. I cried out in pain and embarrassment—I had never felt so violated. My sphincter instinctively fought back. It hurt—my face contorted with pain—I shouted out in protest—I fought hard to loosen myself to avoid the pain. I took a deep breath and my sphincter finally relaxed.
His finger was inside me longer than necessary. He pushed it against my prostate and my penis suddenly twitched then sprang into full erection.
The soldier triumphantly declared, “Look, this white boy is khaneeth (Faggot)—he loves my finger in his behind.”
My humiliation was complete as the men gathered around me laughed.
I was shoved under a shower and thoroughly sprayed with water then I was given heavy denim overalls and put them on as fast as I could. I was hustled down a hallway and found myself walking by jail cells–the Arab inmates shouting curses of derision at me. They shoved me into a small empty cell and slammed the door closed.
There was a dirty blanket on the floor and an open hole in the middle that I guessed was to be used as a toilet. I was suddenly alone. I was scared out of my mind.
What the hell is going on? How could this happen? I collapsed to the floor and cried myself to sleep.
I was awakened by loud banging on the bars. One guard opened the cell door and another guard set a bowl of some sort of food on the floor with a bowl of water. They looked like dog bowls.
I waited until they were gone then güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri picked up the food bowl and ate with my hands and mouth. I felt like an animal. I picked up the water bowl and slurped at the tepid water. When I’d had enough I curled up in the fetal position and fell asleep immediately. I was numb—I couldn’t think or feel anything.
In the morning I used the hole in the floor to relieve my bladder. I sat on the floor and waited. I waited a long time.
Two guards opened the cell door and motioned for me to follow. They took me to the shower room and this time they gave me soap and I washed myself. Then we walked down a long corridor and into an office. An important looking man sat behind a desk.
The guards positioned me in front of the desk then stood several feet behind me. We waited for the man to say something. After five minutes the man stood and approached me. He stood inches from my face. He slowly looked me up and down before he spoke.
“I am in charge here—you will address me as ‘Emir’ (General). You will remain here until your trial…I have reviewed the evidence against you…I would be very surprised if you were found innocent of the charges…you, of course, are charged with possession of dangerous drugs with intent to sell…drug dealers are treated very harshly in my country–“
“That package wasn’t mine—I don’t know how it got in my suitcase—IT ISN’T MINE!!” I cried out in desperation.
“SILENCE—you will speak only when I allow it…it may be several months before your trial begins…until your trial you will be put to work here—all prisoners must work or pay a fee to earn their food and shelter…you have very little money in your possession—you will need to work…we will assign you work…the outdoor work is very hard labor—I don’t think you’d survive a week outside…the indoor work is highly coveted so there are very few positions available—currently there are none, but you are in luck—I just happen to need a new office boy…you will file my paperwork and anything else I may require…my office boy has his own cell—that will save you from the other prisoners—you will eat whatever I eat—my food is much superior to what the prisoners are fed–are you interested?”
I resigned myself to my situation. It was obvious I was going to be here until my trial and the office work sounded better than the alternative.
“Ah, yes—I’d like that,” I answered.
He smiled a crooked smile—his teeth were green.
“Good-good…your most important duty as my office boy is obedience…in addition to your other chores—you will be required to sexually satisfy me whenever I desire it…you will become my bala’a il a’air (Cocksucker) and you will bend over for me and rkab ayre (Ride my cock)…you will become my personal charmouta (Slut).”
OH MY GOD!! What? Did I hear that right? He’s out of his mind—I would never do that!
“No way,” I protested, “…I’m not like that—I’m not queer—I like girls…”
His smile vanished. “Listen to me and listen well, my pretty white boy…when you service a man in this country it is not about whether you like it or not—it is just a fact of life—we are not homosexuals—as a matter of fact known homosexuals are put to death here…our time-honored tradition of heterosexual boys providing pleasure for men goes back to ancient times…when those boys grow older, they too will accept pleasure from another generation of boys…we have a saying in the Middle East—’Women are for procreation—men are for recreation’…”
He moved his face close to mine. The contempt he showed frightened me.
“You would be wise to become my qybah (Bitch) immediately—it will save us both time and it will save you from a great deal of pain…I guarantee within a week you will come into this room and beg me to allow you to become my bala’a il a’air (Cocksucker)…stop wasting my time—what will it be?”
My heart pounded with fear and confusion. This can’t be real, my mind screamed. This is the 21st century—these things just don’t happen anymore.
I vehemently shook my head. “I DEMAND TO SPEAK WITH THE U.S. EMBASSY—YOU CAN”T DO THIS TO ME—I’M AN AMERICAN CITIZEN!!!”
The Emir barked orders at the guards then calmly said, “Get him out of my sight…”
I was pushed quickly down the hallway with my arms twisted behind my back. The guards pushed me into another room. They forcibly stripped me again.
“If you need to move your bowels—do it now or you will wait til morning,” said the guard as he pointed at the hole in the floor.
I shook my head no. They forced me to lie across a short table—my buttocks were high in the air. They were joined by another man who wore a white smock; he appeared to be a doctor. The man held a rubber tube that looked to be four-inches long and half-an-inch in diameter.
He coated it with oil then pressed it against my anus. He paid no attention to my screams and pushed it all the way inside my asshole. Then I felt leather straps around my thighs and I heard a ‘click’—it had been güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri fastened in place. My rectum felt full—now it felt like I needed to crap.
The doctor spoke: “This will prevent your cellmate from raping your virgin ass—the Emir wishes to deflower you himself.”
Alarm bells went off in my head. OH MY GOD!!
They had me put on prison-issue underwear—boxer shorts made with a very coarse and rough fabric. They told me to carry my overalls then I followed them out into the cell block.
The Arab prisoners hooted and hollered at me. From my limited knowledge of the language I understood they were yelling obscenities and what they would like to do to me if they could. I trembled and shook with the greatest fear I’d ever known.
We walked all the way to the end of the cell block and they opened the very last cell door. I looked inside and saw my ‘cellmate’.
HOLY SHIT, my mind screamed. The guy was a monster! He was six-feet tall and had to weigh over three-hundred pounds; his flabby belly hung over half of his shorts. Like everyone else, he wore only the prison shorts, and they didn’t fit him very well.
One of the guards spoke to him. I understood the phrases “It is okay to use his hands and mouth” and “Don’t leave too many bruises”.
“Here’s your new home, pretty white boy,” the guard said as he opened the cell door. “Meet Oka—I’m sure you and him will become very close friends…today is Friday—Islam Prayer Day—no work today—you will have all day to get acquainted with your cellmate.”
The guard pushed me into the cell and slammed the door shut behind me. They walked away. A sharp chill ran up my spine.
I looked at the maniacal smile that spread across Oka’s face and turned and shouted at the guards.
“GET ME OUT OF HERE—PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE!!”
I felt Oka’s hands on my shoulders—they were big and strong like the rest of his body. He didn’t waste any time. He gripped both my wrists in one his hands as his other hand pushed down my shorts. I tried to struggle but he was too strong.
His hand snuck between my ass-cheeks and I heard him whimper in frustration when he encountered the butt-plug in my ass. He pulled me naked to one of the cots. He sat down and forced me onto his lap. I sat on an incredibly huge bulge in his shorts.
He twisted my head around and planted his lips on mine. He was kissing me and when I tried to break free his hand found my balls and squeezed them hard. I shrieked in pain.
“Kiss-Kiss,” he grunted.
I shook my head and tried to break free from his grip but it was no use. He squeezed my balls harder and I screamed-out in agony. I prayed someone would come to my rescue, but no one did. The catcalls from the cells across from us grew louder-and-louder—they could see everything we were doing and they were yelling encouragement to Oka.
“Kiss-Kiss,” he repeated; my balls firmly in his grasp.
My sense of self-preservation took hold. It was now a matter of survival.
I kissed him back. He forced his tongue into my mouth. He sucked on my tongue and when his grip tightened on my balls I sucked on his tongue. Our mouths were meshed together for a long time.
Suddenly he picked me up and sat me next to him on the cot. I couldn’t believe his strength. He quickly pulled down his shorts.
OH MY GOD—HIS COCK WAS AS BIG AS A LOG!!
It was at least twelve-inches long and five-inches in girth. His massive cockhead reminded me of a freakishly huge mushroom I’d once seen.
He took hold of my hands and placed them on his hard monster cock. I pulled them away like I’d been burned by fire.
SMACK!!! He slapped me hard across my face. The other prisoners erupted in loud and prolonged cheers. I gripped his cock with my hands. He moved my hands up and down on his hot flesh.
I resigned myself to my fate. I stroked his cock faster and faster hoping to get it over with quickly. He sat back and enjoyed the handjob. After awhile he had another idea.
“Suck-Suck,” he growled at me.
Tears flowed from my eyes—I knew I had no other choice–he had the power to hurt me real bad.
I lowered my head and placed my lips on his monster prick. There was no way I could get his cockhead into my mouth. He gripped my hair and positioned my mouth directly on his cockslit and I understood what he wanted me to do.
I pressed my lips firmly on his glans and my tongue snaked out and licked at his slit. My hands stroked his cock faster and my tongue never left his flesh. He seemed satisfied with what I was doing and sat back and enjoyed himself.
Precum leaked from his slit and I knew I had to lap it up with my tongue–it wasn’t awful. His hips began thrusting upwards—small noises escaped his throat. I knew he was about to cum and I felt panicked.
What was I supposed to do now? I wondered.
His hips began a sharp jerking motion then I heard him yell “SWALLOW”.
Suddenly his jism filled my mouth and it was all I could do to swallow load-after-load güvenilir bahis şirketleri of his hot spunk. He held my face to his cock as he spasmed and shook and unloaded his balls into my mouth.
When he was spent he pointed to cum on his belly, thighs and pubic hair that I’d missed so I immediately licked him clean. When he was satisfied with my effort he brought my face to his and kissed me on my cum-slicked lips.
The other prisoners were cheering and applauding and shouting “Khaneeth (Faggot)—Khaneeth (Faggot)—Khaneeth (Faggot)….”
My mind was too far gone to care anymore. I clearly understood my destiny: I was going to be sucking Oka’s cock—or sucking the Emir’s cock. Either way, for as long as I was there I was going to be somebody’s cocksucker.
Oka reached for his shorts so I reached for mine.
“No—you naked,” he ordered.
I nodded my head–one more humiliation.
At twelve-noon the guards unlocked everyone’s cell doors. It was time for lunch. Thankfully Oka handed me my shorts and I put them on. All the way to the mess hall he had his huge hand on the back of my neck: I guessed he was claiming ownership of me.
All heads turned when we walked through the door. From what I had seen so far, I was the only white man in the prison. Many of the Arabs smiled and shook their heads with understanding when they saw me with Oka.
After lunch, the second the guard slammed the cell door behind us Oka said, “Naked.” I immediately stripped off my shorts and heard the guard laugh and say, “Enjoy yourself, pretty white boy.”
Oka stripped off his shorts and lay on his back on his cot. He spread his legs slightly then said, “Kneel.”
Oh my God, here we go again. I didn’t hesitate–I climbed onto the cot and knelt between his tree-trunk-like legs.
He pointed at his semi-erect cock and said, “Suck-Suck.”
For the next twenty minutes my hands, mouth and tongue labored to bring him to orgasm. When he came, I was able to swallow more of his cum than the first time. It almost tasted like a sweet dessert. I ignored the shouts of the other prisoners.
“Sleep now,” Oka said.
I was about to get off his cot and go to mine when he said, “No—sleep here.” There was a small crack between his massive body and the cement wall—he wanted me to sleep there and rest my head on his chest.
I wasn’t about to protest. He put his arm beside my head and on my chest. We looked like two lovers dozing off after an amorous encounter. In all honesty, I felt safe and secure sleeping in his arms.
The guards snickered with derision when they opened our cell door for dinner. I didn’t care. Once again Oka had his hand on me the whole way to the mess hall. He was the biggest guy I’d seen in the place and he was like my bodyguard. I was beginning to enjoy his ‘ownership’ of me—it meant the other prisoners would leave me alone.
The food was terrible but the small portions they served us ensured we would be hungry at meal times. I never saw left-over food on anyone’s metal tray.
When the guard opened our cell door he asked me, “Bowel movement?”
I sheepishly nodded ‘yes’; the pressure was building inside of me. Even though we had a toilet in our cell there was also the familiar open hole in the middle of the floor. The guard had me remove my shorts and squat over the hole.
Anything to add to my humiliation, I thought.
He opened the tiny lock on the butt-plug and quickly pulled it out of my ass. The waste flowed freely out of my hole. I didn’t care that the guard, Oka and the prisoners across the corridor watched me—in just a few short hours I had already lost my sense of privacy and decorum. There were no secrets in prison.
I cleaned myself and the butt-plug then the guard inserted it once again inside me. I heard Oka groan with disappointment. I knew Oka wanted nothing more than to bend me over and ram his monster cock into my asshole, and I also knew there was no way I could take his cock without excruciating pain, and quite possibly I could bleed to death. I was very grateful when I heard the lock click shut.
Oka removed his shorts once the guard left us alone. His horse-cock was already hard—it unbelievably looked bigger than before. He lay on his back and pointed.
“Between legs,” he ordered.
He was a man of few words but I knew what he wanted. I knelt between his legs.
“Kiss-Kiss,” he said as he lifted his scrotum and offered it to my face.
I had to use both hands to hold his ball sac while my lips and tongue kissed and licked his salty flesh. I tried to get one of his balls into my mouth but it was too big. I lathered his balls with my saliva.
In all honesty, being forced to service a man this way was beginning to excite me. My own cock stiffened for the first time since I’d been there. My breathing became irregular.
Suddenly Oka lifted his legs exposing his brown hole to my gaze.
“Lick-Lick,” he commanded.
I had an idea what he wanted me to do. I felt both fascination and revulsion. I guess in my naivety I didn’t realize men did this to other men.
His odor became over-powering as I lowered my face and pressed my lips to his anus. My tongue meekly found his hole and began licking at it. I felt dirty and depraved but at the same time my cock began to throb and my balls cried out for release.
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