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Taliban Concubine Ch. 01

By: bjmichaels



Sergeant Rick shouted at us from atop his Humvee: "YOU GUYS HAVE FORTY MINUTES UNTIL THIS ROAD IS LOUSY WITH TALIBAN – YOU BETTER GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE NOW!"

In our six months in Afghanistan, we'd heard this warning several times. Georgie, our crew leader, had always been paranoid and frightened of being left behind without protection from the soldiers, and made sure we closely followed the troops when they left any area. 

"WE GOTTA GET ONE MORE SHOT," he yelled at me and Eddy above the roar of military vehicles as they rumbled past us. This was the first time he decided we should stay behind. I hoped he was making the right decision.

Eddy and I were the Rodmen on our survey team. We work for a huge oil company building a pipeline thru the country to the sea, and Georgie was the Field Manager, he was in charge. Eddy and I thought Georgie was a chubby dork, but we had the utmost respect and confidence in his decisions and his skill as a Surveyor.

Georgie told us where he wanted me and Eddy to be positioned when he took the shot, and we set-out in different directions. 

I had to carefully maneuver half-way up a steep and rocky hill to set my tripod in place. It was tricky to keep it from falling over, but I managed to kick away enough stones and rocks when I found a level shelf. I stood in the cold wind and waited for Eddy to set-up so Georgie could take the shot.

I stood on the hillside with a goofy grin on my face. In three days we were going home – in three days I would have Rebecca in my arms and a boatload of money in the bank. I was so happy the sharp, cold gusts of wind didn't bother me in the least.

This was the smartest decision I'd ever made. Back home, I would have had to work three years to earn the money I made here in six months. Not only that, Georgie told me I'd learned so much here, and performed such good work, he was going to recommend to the company I become a Field Manager with a crew of my own. 

He said I would become, at twenty-one-years-old, one of the youngest Field Managers in the history of the company. I took great pride in Georgie's words: he was the smartest and most competent Surveyor I'd ever worked alongside.

A sudden gust of wind made the tripod tip over, but I caught it before it hit the ground. With some effort, I got it back in place and looked at Georgie for the 'all-clear' signal.

He was facing the other direction waving his arms and pointing with a finger. Over my headset, I heard him barking orders to Eddie. 

I waited patiently; this wasn't the first time Eddy was in the wrong position. Eddy was a helluva nice guy, but not very bright. He was a big, lumbering-clumsy guy my own age, and had difficulty traversing the rocky terrain the whole time we'd been working in Afghanistan.

I filled the time thinking of Rebecca; her beautiful face and soft and sexy creamy-white flesh. She had a smile that warmed my heart, and laughter that made the birds sing. 

I'd been in love with her since high school. And when I got home, we were going to get married, and we would finally consummate our relationship.

We both wanted to remain virgins until we married, and quite frankly, that was growing more difficult and frustrating as the days and weeks and months passed us by. 

In all honesty, I couldn't bear much longer having to take my lust and desire for her into my own hands, if you know what I mean.

I could still hear Georgie yelling at Eddy as I looked at my watch. If Sergeant Rick's warning was true, we only had twenty minutes until this place would be swarming with enemy soldiers.

"C'mon, guys," I said into my headset mouthpiece. "Times running out—hurry up and get the shot!"

The sun dipped below the nearest mountain casting an eerie shadow on the hillsides. 

I shivered as a cold chill raced up and down my spine. Even if Georgie got the shot right now it would take Eddy ten minutes and me a little longer to get back to the Jeep. Our margin for error was razor-thin. I prayed to God Sergeant Rick's prediction was wrong.

I nervously searched the mountains for any sign of movement—I saw none. I remembered when Sergeant Rick told us how cunning and adaptable the Taliban was in these mountains and hillsides. How they blended in with the rocks and bushes. They could be here now and we wouldn't even know it.

"I swear to you," he'd said. "I scoured the mountainside with my binoculars and nothing was moving—not a soul—then BOOM--ten seconds later they showed-up out of nowhere and rushed down the hills...damn good thing there were twenty of us and we were able to shoot the bastards before they got to us!"

"ALL CLEAR—LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" I heard Georgie shout in my headset.

I wasted no time. I slung the equipment over my shoulder and slowly made my way down the steep slope. Going down always took more time than going up. I had to take baby-steps to make sure I didn't fall and tumble down the hill.

A hundred yards from the Jeep I glanced up from the ground and saw Eddy and Georgie waiting patiently for me. 

A sense of urgency caused me to be careless, and I fell on my butt. My first instinct was to protect the expensive equipment. I held it high over my head as I slid down the hill trying to use my feet as brakes to stop my rocky and painful descent.

I was able to halt my slide when my feet braced themselves against a large boulder. I scrambled to my feet and made my way down the remainder of the slope.

Suddenly, I heard Georgie's voice shrieking and shouting thru the headset: "THEY'RE HERE—THEY'RE HERE---HURRY-HURRY-HURRY!"

I instantly knew who he was screaming about: the Taliban!

In sheer terror, I scrambled the rest of the way down the hill and reached the bottom. I was fifty yards from the Jeep. I ran to it as fast as I could. I looked around and saw shadowy figures scurrying down the mountainside from every direction.

Georgie became hysterical. "NO-NO-NO-NO!!"

I heard the Jeep motor turn over. I was twenty yards away when the tires of the Jeep spit stones and rocks in my direction. The Jeep shot forward and rocketed away from me at a high-rate of speed. 

"GEORGIE," I screamed at the top of my lungs. "GEOR—GIEEEEEEEE...."

When the Jeep careened around a corner of a mountain and disappeared from sight, I stood still in absolute disbelief and shocked horror. They were gone. 

They had left me behind. I was on my own. I was alone with the Taliban.

My first instinct was to run. I looked around and saw men closing in on me with their rifles aimed directly at my head. There was nowhere to go. 

My heart thumped loudly in my chest. My nerves a jumbled mess of electric jolts shooting thru-out my body. I stood perfectly still -- paralyzed from head-to-toe with fear. 

Their shouting, excited voices grew louder as they cautiously approached me. I didn't know what they were saying. Sergeant Rick said they spoke Pashto around here. 

I guessed there were a dozen men all dressed in burlap sacks, at least, that's how we joked about their attire back at the base camp.

Seeing them closing in on me now was no laughing matter. As they surrounded me, I saw most had full faces of hair, and the ones that didn't had at least three days' worth of stubble. All of their piercing brown eyes were trained on me.

When they were three feet from me I saw their grotesque smiles; there were many missing teeth. And then their smell hit me. 

From their disheveled and unkempt look, they had obviously not been around water for some time. The foul stench of body odor from a dozen unwashed men assaulted my nose.

Suddenly, one man came forward and smiled down at me. I'm 5'7" and 130 pounds; all of these men were much taller and heavier than me. 

He was so close I could feel the heat from his breath on my cheeks; his breath was just as nasty as his body odor. He raised a hand and I was afraid he would strike me, but he gently began stroking my face. 

He was babbling something in his native language to the other men and they all snickered and sneered at me. He removed his hand from my face and without warning both his hands were on my chest unbuttoning my shirt. Then more hands were on me. They were trying to open my jeans.

I was consumed with terror; fear and loathing overwhelmed me. They were trying to get my clothes off and I was twisting and squirming to stop them. 

Sergeant Rick had mortified us with stories of sex acts the Taliban forced their white captives to perform. Ugly images of being gang-raped flashed thru my mind. At that moment I wished they would just kill me.

The men had become brute animals as they pawed at my clothing. Suddenly, a rifle shot rang out. It was so close I was temporarily deafened. The men reluctantly backed away from me.

A tall man was shouting as he came close; the other men stopped jabbering and lost interest in me. I guessed this man was their leader. I'd never felt so grateful to someone in my life.

I looked up into my savior's face; he too had an evil grin on his bearded face, and something more, I swore his dark brown eyes were sparkling as he intently looked me up and down. 

I was relieved he'd stopped the other men, but I suspected 'Sparkle Eyes' motive was purely selfish. I had a sinking feeling that he wanted me all for himself.

He barked an order and my arms were roughly pulled behind me. My wrists were tied with rope tightly together behind my back. Then he shouted again and he pushed me forward and we all began walking. 

They walked fast and when I fell behind he shouted in my face. I didn't need a translator to know he was warning me to keep up with them.

My mind was in overdrive working hard on a plan. I thought of every probability and consequence and it all came down to this: escape was going to be impossible. 

Even if by some miracle I was left alone long enough and found a way to run out into the countryside, it would do me no good; I had no idea where I was, and it would only be a matter of time before they recaptured me, and maybe shoot me. 

No, I had two options and that was all there was to it.

Either I willingly submit to the degradation they would surely force upon me, or, resist and fight them until they killed me; remove any and all incentives for them to keep me alive.

A cold chill ran up my spine as I contemplated my death. I would never see my family again – I would never know the supreme pleasure of making love with Theresa. A wave of self-pity washed over me. How could this happen to me? I'm only nineteen-years-old! 

Suddenly another option raced thru my mind that excited me and gave me a glimmer of hope: when Sergeant Rick discovered I was missing, he would return with enough men and firepower to rescue me. 

Logically, I had my doubts the US Army would risk the lives of their troops to save one little contract surveyor, but I chose to believe they would – I had to have something, some shred of hope I could desperately cling to in order to survive my upcoming ordeal.

We had rounded the turn where I'd last seen Georgie and Eddy and the Jeep, when in the distance, maybe 200 yards ahead I saw another dozen or so Taliban soldiers standing in the road. They appeared to be waiting for us.

My odds for getting away from these men went from slim to none. I was their captive, and they could do whatever they wanted to me with impunity. All that remained for me was to decide whether I wanted to live or die. 

I knew damn well what they would make me do. Sergeant Rick described in vivid detail the sexual perversions the Taliban forced their white captives to perform. 

One night while we were shooting-the-bull, he looked and pointed at me then said, "...and you—YOU they will absolutely love...you'll be bathed, shaved and perfumed then you'll dance for them like a girl...after they smoke opium and your dancing excites them -- they'll bend you over and butt-fuck you all night long—their jizz will be flowing down the backs of your legs like two rushing rivers!" 

I had nightmares for three straight days after hearing those words. My mind was made up—I knew what I would have to do if the opportunity presented itself. I would rather kill myself than become a Taliban pleasure-boy.

When we were fifty yards from the men I heard laughter and shouting. Then I heard something else; something that made my flesh break out with goose-pimples: I heard Georgie crying and wailing; pleading for his life. 

I understood why he'd left me behind, I wasn't mad at him. In fact, I was counting on him making it back to base camp and alerting Sergeant Rick. My heart sank. It would be that much longer before the U.S. Army knew we were missing.

When we were closer I saw the empty Jeep. I looked around for Eddy and Georgie and finally saw them on the ground. Georgie was crying and curled-up in the fetal position; Eddy was rolling on the ground groaning loudly in obvious agony. I was sure he'd tried to fight the men to no avail.

'Sparkle-Eyes' shouted orders and the men fell silent and stomped-out their cigarettes. Eddy and Georgie were pulled to their feet and bound like me with arms behind their backs.

Eddy's pain must have subsided because he never uttered a sound while they manhandled him. When he saw me there was a pained expression on his face.

"John, I'm sorry—it wasn't me...lard-butt nearly shit himself when he saw we were surrounded. I didn't want to leave you back there!"

"Eddy, it's okay, I understand--I would have done the same thing," I lied.

When a soldier tied Georgie's arms too tightly he whined and complained.

"Shut-up, fat boy," Eddy yelled at him. "If you hadn't insisted on 'one last shot' we wouldn't be in this mess!" 

I didn't say a word. What was the point? After-the-fact recriminations weren't going to help us now.

Sparkle-Eyes shouted orders and a soldier climbed behind the wheel of the Jeep. The Jeep started and lurched forward. The rest of us followed walking behind the Jeep. 

Nightfall was rapidly approaching; I could barely see the road in the dwindling light. 

Suddenly the Jeep veered to the left and began ascending a steep hill. When the rest of us began going up the hill, I noticed we were on some sort of trail and to my horror, I saw there was maybe ten-inches of solid ground on the left side of the Jeep. 

Any miscalculation on the part of the driver and the Jeep would plummet hundreds of feet down the side of the steep mountain. The driver seemed oblivious to his peril; he expertly maneuvered the Jeep upward with ease.

The night sky became black, dotted with distant stars. I made a conscious effort to lift my feet with every step so I wouldn't trip on the rocks. I wondered why the driver of the Jeep didn't switch on the headlights; it would have made it much easier for all of us.

Another half-hour passed and we continued trudging up the hill. I heard a rumbling in the distance. I was pretty sure jet planes were causing the noise. My heart leapt with elation; the U.S. Air Force was coming to save the day!

Then it dawned on me why the driver didn't use the headlights on the Jeep: the pilots would never be able to see us in the dark. We were invisible to them. 

Even if they could locate us, how would they separate the three of us from the Taliban? Impossible! Georgie, Eddy and me would be blown to smithereens along with the enemy soldiers. 

The planes flew overhead and disappeared. My heart sank one more time. I would rather die from friendly bombs than live thru whatever these men had planned for us.

We climbed the hill in total darkness for another hour. It was a hard walk and I could hear Georgie whimpering and moaning. From time-to-time a soldier screamed in Georgie's face and yanked his hair. I was hurting too, but kept quiet.

I heard a commotion ahead of us and off to the side of the trail. It sounded like brush being cleared. Then before I knew it we were inside a cave. 

A feint light could be seen a hundred yards into the huge, massive chamber. When we were close enough, I could see the light came from the headlights of the Jeep. That startled me. The cave was so enormous the Jeep could be driven into it.

The soldiers went about their routine. A huge fire was started and I thought for sure we would all die from smoke inhalation, but when I studied the clouds of smoke, I could see them billowing upwards seemingly disappearing into the rock ceiling. 

A natural ventilation shaft, I thought.

By the light of the fire I saw piles of blankets, clothing and other supplies lining the walls of the cave. The cave was obviously used quite often by the soldiers. 

I remembered Sergeant Rick telling the story of how we had Osama Bin Laden trapped in a cave near Tora Bora but he escaped. When U.S. soldiers explored the cave they found enough food, supplies and necessities to last a month.

These people may be primitive, I thought, but they aren't stupid. These caves were perfect for hiding from the enemy for long periods of time.

Sparkle-Eyes gave me what appeared to be beef jerky. I was starving and gladly took it from him. It wasn't beef, I'm not sure what it was, but I ate it all. Eddy and Georgie ate theirs too. We were given tin cups with a hot, thick liquid. The taste resembled coffee. 

As the men finished eating, their conversations became louder as they openly stared at all three of us. 

I didn't like what I saw in their eyes; a mixture of anticipation and lust. I began to tremble; from the evil smile on Sparkle-Eyes face, I had the distinct feeling that Georgie, Eddy and I were going to become that evening's entertainment.

Sparkle-Eyes yelled something and suddenly the three of us were pulled to our feet near the fire. The men surrounding us began to remove our clothes. They were taking great pains in not ripping or tearing our shirts and jeans. They wanted our clothing intact. I guessed western clothes were valuable here.

I squirmed but didn't fight. There were four men surrounding each of us, and I knew damn well I couldn't fight them off. Eddy, of course resisted, and received heavy punches to his belly in return. 

We were soon naked. They pulled our hands behind our necks and fastened them with leather straps. We stood before a roomful of excited men completely exposed.

I shivered when Sparkle-Eyes' hands roamed freely over my naked body. He stood behind me so I couldn't see his face, but I guessed he was smiling because I heard appreciative murmurs escaping his mouth as he stroked my soft and unblemished white flesh.

He caressed my back and chest; kneading and gently squeezing; his hand then concentrated on my breasts and nipples while his other hand stroked my buttocks. 

I hated myself when my penis responded to his touches and became semi-erect. He chuckled deeply in his throat and whispered something in my ear. His hot breath made my prick twitch. 

When his finger pressed hard against my anus I struggled in his arms but he held me firmly in place. When I calmed down he began a maddening stroking of my anus and perineum. 

No one had ever touched me there, not even Theresa. How was I to know it was an erogenous zone? I thought its only function was to eliminate waste. It surprised the heck out of me to discover how good it felt to have a finger gently stroking me down there.

My shame was complete: my penis expanded into a full erection and the surrounding men cheered and laughed and pointed at my four-inch hard prick. This only seemed to invigorate Sparkle-Eyes as his fingers pinched my now-hard nipples as he continued the gentle assault between my buttocks.

I had closed my eyes, but when I heard the men cheer and applause again, I opened them to see both Eddy and Georgie being manipulated the same as me, and to my shock I saw both their pricks harden; pointing straight out from their bellies.


Taliban Concubine Ch. 01



Sparkle-Eyes pushed me forward until I was standing a foot away from Georgie then he brought a finger to my lips. His finger gently rubbed my lips in a circular motion. He said a phrase repeatedly in my ear as he pointed at Georgie's erection. 

His words were strange and foreign but I knew their meaning. He was making it very clear that he was ordering me to suck Georgie's cock. A wave of shock and nausea overwhelmed me. This was the last thing I expected they would force me to do.

The raucous men were clapping and shouting waiting and encouraging my submission. Sparkle-Eyes pushed my shoulders downward, forcing me to my knees. My face was inches from Georgie's short, fat cock.

My head was pushed forward; I resisted; I vigorously shook my head back and forth. 

"Don't do it, John—please—don't do it!" I heard Georgie's high-pitched squeal.

I found my voice, I shouted: "NO-NO-NO-NO-NO-NO..."

Someone's hand came into my view. It gently cupped Georgie's dangling scrotum then viciously squeezed it hard. A blood-curdling scream filled the damp air inside the cave. I watched Georgie's legs buckle, but the men held him upright.

Sparkle-Eyes repeated the phrase to me again. I knew he was saying: "SUCK HIS COCK!"

Georgie was crying and whimpering. I didn't want them to hurt him anymore. I felt like I was in a dream. I closed my eyes and slowly moved my face to his prick.

"DON'T DO IT!!" I heard Eddy shout. "DON'T LET THEM MAKE YOU THEIR BITCH!!"

I heard a whoosh of air and opened my eyes in time to see a fist bury itself deep in Eddy's belly. Then I saw a huge hand take hold of Eddy's balls and crush them hard until the hand was making a fist. 

I'd never heard such anguished cries of pain come from a human being before; the pain I knew Eddy was feeling was beyond anything in my experience and comprehension.

Desperately lost in panic and fear, I opened my mouth, rounded my lips and slid them over Georgie's purple cockhead. I couldn't bear the thought it was my fault my friends were in severe pain and agony. 

If the only way to stop the Taliban from torturing Eddy and Georgie was to obey their perverse commands—so be it—I considered it a small price to pay to save my friends. 

The men surrounding us erupted in jubilation over my abject surrender and submission. They gleefully shouted epitaphs at me. I was sure they were calling me a "little white cocksucker," and more derogatory names. Their excited voices echoed off the walls of the cave and assaulted my ears. I didn't care as long as it meant I had spared my friends from further pain and suffering.

Then a strange thought crossed my mind: Okay, I have a hard penis in my mouth---what do I do with it?

Memories of my sweet Rebecca flooded my thoughts. She had performed this personal service for me a few times, and I remembered what she did that had felt good, and what hadn't. 

Sparkle-Eyes was impatient; he grasped my hair and began guiding my head forward-and-back. Suddenly, he freed my hands from the leather strap and forced them down to Georgie's crotch.

He showed me what he wanted me to do: I was to hold Georgie's balls in my left hand while I stroked the shaft of his cock with my right. When he was satisfied with my actions, he released his grip on me.

I did as he wanted for a short time but something didn't feel right. Completely on my own volition, I switched hands. I held and massaged Georgie's balls in my right hand as I stroked his cock with my left. To me, this was a move of convenience; it was easier for me to do what they wanted. 

However, to the lust-crazed men watching me, they seemed to think I'd willingly accepted the cock in my mouth and was actually enjoying it. They cheered and clapped the whole time my head bobbed back-and-forth over Georgie's cock. 

I heard deep-throated laughter from Sparkle-Eyes as he gently caressed my hair as I worked on Georgie's prick. He mumbled something that I took to mean: "Good boy...."

The cave fell silent. I was sure all eyes were on my mouth. To me, this was an act of survival. There was nothing sexual about it. As a matter-of-fact, once I settled into a rhythm, the warmth of the cock in my mouth felt good. I kind of liked it. 

There were no thunderbolts and lightening signaling my damnation; I didn't feel any different as a human being; there was no foul or disgusting aroma or flavor—there really wasn't any taste at all; the only thing happening was that a rubbery, male appendage was sliding in-and-out between my lips. 

I heard Georgie moan above me. I knew what that meant. I remembered Rebecca would use her tongue on my cockhead, and lick the pre-cum from my slit. I did the same for Georgie. The taste was slightly salty but nothing offensive.

My hand moved faster on his shaft as I furiously bobbed my head over his expanding prick. I was suddenly surprised to feel his scrotum contract in my hand; immediately he grunted and pushed his cock as far into my mouth as it would go. 

Georgie cried out and I felt and tasted the first salvo of his cum. I panicked—I tried pulling my face away from Georgie's cock but a hand held my head firmly in place. I heard Sparkle-Eyes evil laughter above me. Then he said something to me. 

I knew what he wanted; what was expected of me. I was to completely humiliate myself in front of his men by swallowing Georgie's cum. 

It was that precise moment the fact I was a Taliban prisoner sunk into my mind. My rights as an American were gone. I was no longer a free human being. I was their captive—the 'spoils of war,' and they could damn well force me to do whatever they wanted and if I refused they could torture, or maybe even kill me with no consequences to them whatsoever.

I gulped down Georgie's jizz. The sound of smug laughter invaded my ears. I was nothing more than a Taliban cocksucker and every man in the cave knew it.

Sparkle-Eyes pulled my head away from Georgie's crotch and his flaccid penis fell from my lips. Sparkle-Eyes pointed at splotches of cum in Georgie's pubic hairs and thighs and pushed my face forward. He wanted me to clean-off the cum that had escaped my mouth. 

This was the ultimate degradation. Sparkle-Eyes wanted to demonstrate to his men that I'd been broken—that I was theirs to do with as they pleased. With tears in my eyes, I leaned forward and snaked-out my tongue and licked Georgie clean. 

Until you come face-to-face with a life-or-death situation, you'd like to think of yourself as brave, and unwavering against insurmountable odds. That is human nature. 

I chose to obey my captors--I chose life over death—that is human nature, as well. 

Basic instinct told me to do whatever I had to do to stay alive. When you are living—you have hope. When you are dead—there is nothing but darkness. 

I hung my head in defeat and awaited Sparkle-Eyes next command. I fully expected him to have me suck Eddy's cock, too. He had other plans. He yanked my hair and I jumped to my feet. 

He barked something at his men and they shouted and danced in jubilation. The men instantly pounced on Eddy and Georgie. Sparkle-Eyes led me a safe distance away to where blankets lain on the ground. He forced me to the ground and he sat beside me.

I watched in horror as the men manhandled my friends, forcing them into obscene positions, bent over small barrels, their legs stretched wide apart. I shivered with fear—I knew what was about to happen and I was helpless to stop it.

Eddie knew, too. He screamed at the top of his lungs.

"I'M AN AMERICAN, DAMMIT—YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!!"

It took four men to hold down Eddie, just one for Georgie.

I gasped when some of the men opened their robes and dropped their baggy pants. Each one had a man-sized erection and they were eagerly stroking them as they formed lines behind my friends.

The first men in line dipped a hand into a small bucket then stroked their cocks. They were coating their cocks with a paste-like substance. 

My first thought was 'Good, at least they're lubricating themselves.'

The men moved closer to my friends and I saw their cockheads press against Eddy and Georgie's anus. I couldn't bear to look. I turned my head.

Sparkle-Eyes yanked my hair and spun my head around. He pointed at the grotesque scene. He made it clear he wanted me to watch his men fuck my friends.

Eddie let out a blood-curdling scream when his hole was forced open by the long and thick Taliban cock. With one thrust of the man's hips, his cock burrowed its way inside Eddy's asshole.

Immediately, the man next to him buried his erection to the hilt inside Georgie. My chubby friend gave a 'Yelp' of surprise and began crying. My heart went out to both of them. I never felt such sadness and despair.

Sparkle-Eyes opened his robe and lowered his pants. He too had an impressive erection; not that I had vast experience in seeing hard cocks, but they all seemed a few inches longer than my own, and much thicker.

He grabbed my hand and placed it on his erection. I knew what he wanted: I squeezed his hot flesh and stroked his hard prick.

He murmured his approval and returned to watching his men. I prayed to God that Sparkle-Eyes wouldn't fuck me with his huge cock. I moved my hand faster-and-faster in hopes of making him climax.

The man fucking Eddy shouted something then I watched his body jerk and twist as he shoved his cock harder and deeper into my friend's asshole. The man behind Georgie did the same. I'd never seen men in the throes of orgasm; it was almost comical to watch.

As soon as they were finished, they moved aside and two more men took their place. These men also coated their cocks with the paste then immediately shoved their pricks into my friends.

Sparkle-Eyes stopped my hand. He lay back and spread his legs. He pointed at his cock. 

I should have known what he wanted, but I was momentarily puzzled.

He barked at me. He pointed to his men fucking my friends then he pointed at his cock. I was sure he was telling me I could either suck his cock or he'd give me to his men.

I scrambled to my knees between his thighs and immediately buried my face in his crotch. I opened my mouth as wide as possible and was able to take his entire cockhead in my mouth. 

I sucked on his cockhead for all I was worth. I remembered what he had me do with Georgie. I held and massaged his balls in one hand and stroked the thick shaft of his cock with the other. I decided to suck him the best I could; I didn't want to anger him and become another fuck-boy for his lust-fueled men.

From time-to-time I snuck a glance at his face. His eyes were glazed-over as he stared at the unholy spectacle taking place beside us. I hoped the depraved orgy he was watching would spur him to a quicker climax. My jaw was sore from my mouth being stretched so widely open.

I stroked his shaft faster and harder. My tongue never stopped moving on his velvety flesh. When I tasted his pre-cum I furiously bobbed my head up-and-down. 

I heard him groan. He began thrusting his hips upward. I stroked him even faster. 

Suddenly he growled like an animal and shouted the same words I'd heard from his men when they'd cum inside my friend's assholes.

I did my very best to swallow all his spunk but there was too much of it. He kept cumming and cumming and cumming....

I gulped down at least five mouthfuls before his body came to rest and his penis shriveled in my mouth. I didn't wait for him to say anything: I searched his pubic hair, belly and thighs for cum I had missed and quickly lapped-up every drop.

I was still in mortal fear of being tied down like Eddy and Georgie and getting gang-fucked by sex-crazed Taliban soldiers. I'd do whatever Sparkle-Eyes wanted as long as he protected me from his men.

That is, until he spread his legs wider apart, slightly lifting them until I was staring directly at his anus.

He said something to me but of course I didn't understand. I looked at his face for guidance and thru a crooked smile he stuck his tongue out then pointed at his asshole.

What? I wondered. He wanted me to lick him 'down there'? That's crazy—who in their right mind would do something like that?

His movements were slow and calculated. He sat up, put his arm around my shoulder and stroked my face and hair. He whispered in my ear; his voice soft and gentle, almost like he was whispering to a baby.

He caressed my chest then thighs. His large hand suddenly took hold of my penis and scrotum. He cooed in my ear as he lovingly fondled my private parts. I was confused by his actions, but thought perhaps he'd grown fond of me after I'd sucked him so well. 

I was caught completely off-guard. He abandoned my prick and gently cradled my balls in his hand. His face suddenly contorted into an angry sneer, he screamed in my face and his hand closed tightly around my scrotum. He crushed my balls in his hand and lifted me off the ground.

Blinding pain shot thru my body--I screamed at the top of my lungs. 

Pain the likes I'd never felt in my entire life. Horrible pain that taught me an invaluable lesson: I was a prisoner of war—a captive of the Taliban, and if I wanted to survive I'd better obey their commands without question.

I hated myself for even thinking that Sparkle-Eyes had felt tenderness for me. I was nothing more than a Taliban Pleasure-Boy, and I'd better not make any more mistakes or he'd hang me by my balls without hesitation and laugh all the while he was doing it.

When he released his grip on me, I rolled around the blanket groaning and holding my balls. The pain hadn't fully subsided when he shouted at me. He was in the same position as before and, as quickly as I could, scrambled between his wide-splayed thighs and buried my face in his buttocks. 

With no thought of anything but obedience, I pressed my mouth over his anus and licked the opening of his asshole. His hand pulled my head even closer; I understood what he wanted from me.

I pushed my tongue thru the tight ring of his anus until my face was flat against his flesh. Totally ignoring the taste and aroma, I dutifully licked the walls of his asshole. I heard his evil laughter above me, as tears flooded my eyes.

At first I thought I'd suffocate, but learned to stay calm and breathe slowly thru my nose. After a minute or so I became accustomed to the smell. My tongue was in constant motion lapping at the sandpaper-like walls of his rectum.

When he finally pushed my head away, I saw I'd coaxed another erection from him. I worried he would fuck me with it, but if that's what he wanted, I would bend-over and even pull apart my buttocks to ease the way for him.

Once again, he had me hold and stroke his cock while we watched his men using Eddy and Georgie.

OH MY GOD, I thought, as I now saw men using my friends in two ways.

The men continued to pump their hard cocks in-and-out of Eddy and Georgie's assholes, but now, there were men standing in front of the captives with erections sliding in-and-out of their mouths, as well.

At first, I was surprised Eddy didn't bite the cock in his mouth. Then I heard the sounds emanating from my friends. Instead of horrified cries of pain, I distinctly heard them mewing and moaning and gasping—as if they were actually enjoying themselves.

When one man discharged into Eddy's ass and removed his cock, I heard Eddy groan in disappointment, as if he never wanted it to end.

This startled and alarmed me. Eddy was my last bastion of hope—of strength. If they were able to subdue him, then all was lost—there was nothing in the world that could save us now.

Another man aimed his hard cock at Eddy's opening. To my utter amazement and horror, I watched as Eddie thrust his hips backward and the cock disappear inside his asshole. 

"Oh God—Yesssss...." Eddie cried out in pleasure and satisfaction.

The hair on my neck stood straight—I shivered in fear and trepidation. Eddy loved getting fucked in the ass---now we were surely doomed forever.

The man behind Georgie came with a thundering-loud climax. As he pulled his shriveled cock out of my friend, he looked over to Sparkle-Eyes, patted Georgie's plump buttocks, smiled and said something. 

Sparkle-Eyes responded to the man by standing, pulling me up with him, and led us to Georgie's wicked pose. We waited, I wondered for what? Sparkle-Eyes watched the man using Georgie's mouth. I watched, as well. 

Suddenly Sparkle-Eyes barked an order and the man who'd just finished using Eddy grabbed my arm and pulled me along with him. We walked to the other side and he positioned me behind the man fucking Georgie's mouth.

Then I felt the man's hand stroking my buttocks. He grunted his approval of me. When a stray finger moved between the cheeks and pressed against my anus, I instinctively tried to pull away. He growled at me and I stood perfectly still.

His finger began an incessant massaging of my anus and perineum. The pain in my balls had finally subsided, and now I found myself actually enjoying the man's finger massage.

My small prick rose to full erection. The man chuckled in my ear and said something. I guessed he was insulting my manhood.

There was a strange odor in the air. Not from the fire—something else. I looked to my left and saw a man holding a pipe-like contraption with wafts of smoke coming from it. 

Whatever it was, the man sucked the sweet smoke into his lungs, and held his breath for a long time. It didn't smell at all like marijuana, but I was sure it was some sort of drug.

The man in front of me came in Georgie's mouth with a loud shout then stepped aside. I was pushed forward until my dick was touching Georgie's lips. Georgie was moaning, deliriously mumbling "Yes-yes-yes..."

I looked over at Sparkle-Eyes: he had his cock poised at Georgie's back entrance. He grasped Georgie's hips and rammed his cock in one long, hard thrust inside my friend. 

I saw Georgie's eyes open wide; I expected him to scream in pain but the smile on his face told me all I needed to know. 

I was pushed forward until my prick disappeared into Georgie's mouth. He greedily closed his lips around the shaft and began sucking me. His mouth was warm and wonderful. 

A wave of sadness washed over me as I realized my friend, Georgie, was now, like me, nothing more than a Taliban Pleasure-Boy.

At first I was ashamed and guilty at how much I loved using Georgie's mouth. He was my friend, my mentor, and now I fucked his mouth like he was a common cum-slut.

But his mouth was too good, and he really seemed to love sucking cock so finally I abandoned my inhibitions and enjoyed the incredible sensations he was giving me.

The man beside me said something and I saw he was holding the pipe. He offered the hose to my mouth and I immediately decided to obey. I'd watched the other men—I knew what to do. I inhaled deeply and held the smoke in my lungs as long as possible.

When I exhaled and waited, I became slightly disappointed. Nothing was happening. It seemed to have no effect on me.

Georgie's mouth, however, was absolutely enchanting. His soft lips wrapped around my shaft thrilled me like I was never thrilled before. His serpentine-like tongue snaked and danced over my hotly-pulsating prick. 

The dark cave seemed bright and I loved watching the smoke drift in the air. My prick was alive, twitching and expanding. With each lick of his burning tongue, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

A strange but gentle pair of hands reached from behind and caressed and fondled my breasts. When fingers pinched my hardened nipples, my head snapped backwards, my mouth opened wide in sweet in delight. 

I took hold of Georgie's head, held it in place, and furiously fucked his cherubic face. 

The cum in my balls began churning. I felt an urgent, desperate need to fill my friend's mouth with semen. I wanted him to share in my joy—my pleasure. I wanted to reward him for bringing such euphoria into my barren life. 




Taliban Concubine Ch. 01



I cried out and pushed my cock into his mouth until my pubic hairs pressed against his chin. His fat tongue lapped at my slit as wave after wave of deliciously indescribable pleasure rocked my world. I shouted loud and long. I heard my shrieks of joy echo throughout the cave. I heard Georgie slurping and gulping my cum.

I heard Sparkle-Eyes shout out, too. I watched him frantically fuck Georgie's asshole and felt envious of my friend. I suddenly wanted to feel what Georgie was feeling. 

Georgie cried out; my dick slid from his mouth as he bellowed his orgasm for all to hear. The sound of laughter filled the air but Georgie's voice was music to my ears. I loved that my friend had received as much pleasure as he had given me.

Later that night, as I was lying beside Sparkle-Eyes, listening to his breath catching in his throat causing him to snort and snore; my head was dizzy with delightful memories of an orgasm gone wild. 

I drifted off into dream-world less afraid of what tomorrow would bring. 



Taliban Concubine Ch. 02



Something was pulling on my hair, shaking my head. In my dreamy, sleep-induced stupor, I imagined a super-huge dragon fly had landed on my head, and was clutching at my hair, trying to pick me up and fly away with me.

Then I heard his voice shouting in my ear, and I was wide awake; a chill ran down my spine as I abruptly remembered where I was.

In the darkness of the cave, Sparkle-Eyes roughly gripped my hair; he was trying to make me move from my comfortable sleep position beside him. I had no choice but to go where he was guiding me.

I should have known---he wanted me kneeling between his legs. He was naked down below; his robe had been pulled up to his belly. 

I couldn't see anything in the dark, but I felt his hard cock slap against my cheekbone. I remembered the excruciating pain the night before when I refused to obey him, and he'd crushed my balls with his strong hand---I immediately wet my lips and sucked his cockhead into my mouth. 

I heard him moan, and he released my hair and lay back to enjoy the services of his newly acquired prisoner of war. 

My tongue traced along a bulging vein that ran from the base of his shaft to the crown. I teased and licked the underside of the stiff shaft, remembering how he'd responded the previous evening.

Suddenly, both his hands were beside my face, and I became frightened he was going to hurt me again. Instead, he pushed my head lower, and my lips came in contact with his scrotum; he was holding it in his hand for me to service

I kissed and licked his balls then one-by-one, took each between my lips and gently sucked and rolled them around my mouth using my tongue.

He grunted his satisfaction with my performance then pulled my hair back up to his cock. He was now ready for the main event.

I had quickly learned the better I sucked his cock, the quicker the humiliating ordeal would be done. I set about pleasuring him the best I could. 

Suddenly, the cave was awash with light. I continued sucking, but out of the side of my eyes I saw movement near the fire. I heard Eddy and Georgie complaining as they were roused from their sleep, then dragged beside the fire and placed on their knees. Like I was, they were still naked, too.

The Taliban soldiers formed two lines before them; their hands massaging their morning hard-ons. My heart sank for my friends. I became tense.

I wondered what Eddy would do. With a clear head after a full night's sleep, I couldn't imagine he would obediently submit to their perverted demands. He didn't---and paid an awful price for it.

Four men converged on him holding him still, while the biggest soldier crushed Eddy's balls in his hand then lifted his entire body off the ground, holding him by his scrotum. 

Eddy's blood-curdling scream echoed thru-out the cave. I jerked my head off Sparkle-Eyes cock and shouted at the soldiers.

"STOP-IT---STOP-IT---LEAVE-HIM-ALONE!!"

I didn't see Sparkle-Eyes hand until it was too late. He slapped my face so hard I fell backwards. Bright stars swirled and danced before my eyes. Tears of shock and rage filled my eyes. 

My moment of truth had come via a slap to my face.

I was on the ground rubbing my sore cheek; I watched Sparkle-Eyes angry face shouting at me and pointing at his cock; I looked over and saw Georgie eagerly pleasing the man in his mouth; then I watched Eddy.

The soldiers allowed him precious few seconds to recover from his painful torture before they pulled him to his knees once again. 

This time, beside the man standing before his mouth, soldiers stood on either side of him and forced his hands around their manly cocks. They forced him to stroke their erections while he sucked the cock in front of him.

The soldier laughed as he grabbed Eddy's ears and began to viciously push-and-pull his head back-and-forth as he rammed his cock in-and-out of Eddy's mouth.

Eddie no longer protested. In fact, he seemed to be cooperating with the soldiers and eagerly pleasured the three pulsating cocks.

Sparkle-Eyes shouted at me louder. It was now or never. I could fight him like a man and die with my pride and dignity intact, or submit like a scared and frightened weasel and without a doubt, become a Taliban cocksucker the rest of my life.

Please, do not judge me, dear readers. Many of you insist you would choose death over slavery; that the only honorable solution would be to fight them and die a miserable, painful death. That it is better to die like a hero than live like a coward.

I pray to God that you are never in the position to have to make that choice.

I resumed my position on my knees, between his wide-splayed legs, used my hands to caress his cock and balls, and sucked his cock into my mouth. 

Low laughter resonated deep within his throat. He clasped his hands together behind his neck, and lay back and watched with a self-satisfied smirk on his face as I serviced his cock.

To the victor goes the spoils...

Not long afterwards, Sparkle-Eyes gave me two pieces of what appeared to be beef jerky. 

Knowing these animals, and the way they live, I thought, it was probably goat-jerky.

He motioned for me to eat. I was starving and bit off a chunk; I had no idea what it was, but it wasn't too awful, and the flavor at least masked the taste of Sparkle-Eyes greasy cum.

When we were finished eating, Sparkle-Eyes barked orders to his men. I was pulled to my feet by my hair, and two men dressed me in a loose-fitting robe. I was given worn sandals to put on my feet then lastly, someone wrapped my head in what I thought to be a scarf. I couldn't see or breathe thru the scarf and briefly panicked. 

I was held still as a soldier used a knife and cut tiny slits thru the fabric over my eyes and nose. When they were done, it reminded me of photos I'd seen of women in this country: totally covered from head-to-foot--- not one area of flesh exposed.

They pushed me in the opposite direction from where we entered the cave. We would pass-by Eddy and Georgie and I was able to catch one last glimpse of them.

They were still naked on their knees; their heads lowered, hands by their sides; as we walked by them the last thing I saw was a soldier walk-up to Eddy, and tap him on the head.

Eddy immediately raised his head, took the man's scrotum and erect shaft in his hands then quickly sucked the man's cockhead into his mouth. 

My heart was torn into a million pieces. It was too painful to watch. He was no longer the Eddy I had known. They'd broken his spirit and crushed his soul. 

He was now just like me: a Taliban cocksucker and sex-boy.

Someone shoved me from behind; he wanted me to keep pace with the soldier ahead of me. We were walking into darkness. 

I panicked—it suddenly struck me I was being separated from my friends. I had counted five soldiers besides Sparkle-Eyes, and we were leaving all the others behind. 

Oh my God—Oh my God—Oh my God---would I ever see Eddy and Georgie again? Is this it? 

Despair and loneliness gripped me like a vise; I was totally alone with enemy soldiers deep inside enemy territory. 

Tears rushed to my eyes as I realized I may never see my friends again---that I would probably never see or talk with another American for as long as they kept me alive. I'd never before felt such gut-wrenching self-pity. 

Sparkle-Eyes took my hand in his and guided me in the proper direction. The glow from the fire behind us disappeared; we were in total darkness. Something was different; the air smelled fresher; there was no smoke from the fire to breathe.

My arm and shoulder suddenly crashed against the wall of the cave. Sparkle-Eyes pulled me closer to him; he put his arm around my back and led me thru the darkness.

I was surprised by his gentle touch; his concern for me.

I began gasping for breath; the air was thin and I fought to gulp down oxygen. The hair on my neck stood straight as I realized the walls of the cave were closing in on us. The passageway was getting very narrow. I never knew I was claustrophobic until then.

We walked like this for a good thirty-minutes; it was all I could do to keep from shouting in panic. I wanted out of that cave more than anything.

It began as a single speck of light. I stared at it as we walked. It gave me hope. 

The light slowly grew larger; the air became easier to breathe. My heart finally quit racing. We were coming to the opening of the cave and would soon be out of there.

At the entrance, the soldier ahead of me and Sparkle-Eyes pushed aside brush; there was just enough space for us to get out of the cave. 

We were suddenly outside; the morning sun blinded me; it was directly in our faces, and I guessed it must have been close to 8am. I'd never appreciated Mother Nature as much as I did at that moment.

When my eyes became accustomed to the bright sunshine, I saw we were half-way up a steep mountainside. My breath caught in my throat; a sudden dizziness overwhelmed my head. 

Sparkle-Eyes caught me before I fell and tumbled down the mountain. He waited for me to begin breathing normally, and for my panic to subside. Then he shouted at the soldier ahead of us, and we slowly began traversing the side of the mountain.

Our direction startled me; we weren't going down the mountain to flat ground, no, we were going to maneuver sideways over the tricky slope. 

The footing was treacherous. Sparkle-Eyes stopped and demonstrated to me the proper way to keep my balance. He taught me how to angle my right foot slightly inward to prevent me from falling. After a few steps I was more comfortable and we all began walking faster.

A few minutes later, Sparkle-Eyes released my hand. A strange sense of pride surged thru me; he must have thought I was ready to traverse the mountainside on my own.

'Walking fast' is a relative term. We were going as fast as one could over the steep hillside.

I was so confident of my new-found ability I allowed my mind to wander. I understood the cave had narrowed so much that the Jeep would never make it through. I figured Eddy and Georgie and the other soldiers would leave the cave the same way we had entered.

It made me feel better to think that we would meet up with them at the end of the day.

My foot slipped again—I fell and began to roll down the mountain. One of the men behind us went to his butt, dug in his heels, and caught my hand before I was out of reach.

My heart pounded like never before. I was pulled to my feet and Sparkle-Eyes shouted at me. The scowl on his face told me I'd better pay closer attention to what I was doing.

He didn't have to say another word—I would definitely give it my full concentration.

We walked on-and-on-and-on...

The cool morning air gradually changed into stifling heat. The sun was directly over our heads relentlessly beating down on us. I was sweating profusely under my heavy wrappings. It was getting increasingly difficult to breathe thru the tiny holes over my nose.

My eyes were glued to the ground—I never looked up. Falling and rolling down the mountain would kill me, and I'd be free of the Taliban, but that was not the way I wanted to leave this world.

Sparkle-Eyes shouted, and I finally lifted my head.

Ohhh, thank you God---thank you!

The mountainside became much less steep, easily walkable, and we began a downward descent. We were going down to the flat land.

We'd walked a hundred feet when the soldier in the lead shouted. Sparkle-Eyes grabbed my arm and pulled me to the ground with him; we lay on our stomachs. He rolled his weight on top of me. I was pinned to the ground.

That's when I heard the jets. They were flying low at a very high rate of speed. They flew directly over us. My heart leapt with joy as adrenaline rushed thru my body. 

I was going to be saved! The United States Air Force would rescue me and my friends and we'd be back in our old huts tonight, telling stories, amazing our listeners with harrowing tales of capture, and the brutality of the Taliban.

I almost felt sorry for Sparkle-Eyes. He would no doubt be waterboarded for information. 

We lay still for another minute. I couldn't hear the jet planes anymore. I didn't hear the roar of Humvee's rumbling down the road below us coming to save me and blow the Taliban to smithereens.

All I heard was the rustle of a hot breeze in my ears. Then something else: Sparkle-Eyes whispering to me. I somehow knew what he was saying just by the tone of his voice. 

"You will never be saved, my pretty, American cocksucker! You will belong to me forever!"

And to emphasize his point, I felt his cock grow to full erection and he ground it hard into my buttocks as he chuckled in my ear.

I suddenly heard the voice of Tommy the Pilot and what he had once said: "Those Taliban bastards are damn crafty...the way they dress---hell, they blend right-in with the desert...you can fly right over'em and think you're seeing rocks and scrub brush---they hide in plain sight---dammit, how can you fight someone if you can't see'em?"

I felt ridiculous for allowing myself false hope.

We'd been walking on the flat land for hours. The sun dipped below a mountaintop. The soldier in the lead suddenly veered left up the mountain again. 

My heart sank. I was dog-tired, hungry, my feet were killing me and my sweat had turned into a powerful body odor that made me gag and retch.

I glanced up the hill to see where we could possibly be going, but saw nothing but rocks and small bushes. 

We climbed for fifteen minutes then came to a large bush. The soldier peeled away some branches and to my astonishment he'd uncovered a small opening to a cave. 

No wonder we can't beat these people, I thought. How can you win a war when they can hide inside mountains?

Sparkle-Eyes gripped my neck as we waited outside the entrance. I glanced up at him. He was staring down at me with an ominous glean in his eyes. 

He placed a finger on my mouth and slowly rubbed my lips; a lewd, lustful grin spread across his smirking face. 

A cold chill ran up my spine. I knew damn well he'd be using my mouth again very soon. The only question I had was whether I would be satisfying only him, or all of them. 

The soldier in the cave called out to us and we walked inside. 

We'd walked about a-hundred-feet behind the point-man who held a lit torch. I could sense this wasn't a normal cave. The air was thicker, more humid; there had to be water in the cave, but how can that be?

We came to a large chamber where I saw piles of supplies and even wicker chairs and tables. It almost looked like someone lived there.

We didn't stop. To my surprise, I saw several openings, leading in different directions. We entered one of those openings and the walls of the cave narrowed, and I fought to control my claustrophobia.

Thank God we only walked about two-hundred feet until we entered another large chamber.

The men set about lighting torches that were suspended on the walls. When it was bright enough to see around me I couldn't have been more shocked. The place looked like someone's living quarters. It had all the comforts of home, that is, at least for Afghanistan standards.

Chairs, tables, beds, even a pot-bellied stove. The room itself was the perfect temperature, not too hot, and not too cold. It was a cozy living arrangement, if you wanted to live in a cave, that is.

My breath caught in my throat and almost choked; it occurred to me that Bin Laden himself could have lived here at one time.

One of the men re-entered the main chamber and said something to Sparkle-Eyes. He grabbed my hand and pulled me thru a narrow passage and into another 'room.'

I wasn't sure, but I thought I heard running water. When we entered, torches on the walls illuminated the room.

It was stunning! The first thing I saw was an incredibly beautiful waterfall cascading down in an arc to a small pool, or pond really, at our level. It took my breath away. 

I stood in awe watching the waterfall. All of this inside a cave? Unbelievable--simply amazing!

Sparkle-Eyes wasn't impressed with the beauty. He said something to me I didn't understand. When I failed to respond, he came to me and began tugging at my robe. Now I understood, he wanted me naked.

I removed my robe as he worked at peeling-off the layers of fabric from my face and head. When I was naked, he pushed me to the pond. 

He gesticulated wildly for me to climb into the water. I can't describe how wonderful the water felt on my tired and sore, and very stinky body.

I was close enough to the waterfall to hold out my hand and test the water. It was cold. He screamed at me and I held my breath and moved underneath the cascading water.

It was a shock to my system, at first, but as I stood there shivering, I gradually became used to it. 

He pointed at ceramic containers on a nearby rock. I picked up the one he pointed to and sniffed at it. Lavender soap? My goodness...

I lathered myself from head-to-toe. The water was feeling deliciously wonderful now that I'd gotten accustomed to it. I wanted to stand there forever, but Sparkle-Eye's was growing impatient. He motioned for me to hurry-up.

As I washed the last of the soap from my body, I saw him shed his robe and vest and baggy pants. It was the first time I'd seen him naked.

He climbed into the pond and pushed me aside so he could stand under the water. I stood beside him, unsure of what I should be doing.

He dipped his hands into another container and washed his hair. Then he applied the liquid soap to his underarms. 

He barked at me and pointed to a boulder barely submerged in the water. He wanted me to sit on it. He turned his body slightly, and my eyes suddenly were staring directly at his crotch.

He gave me the soap and pointed to his crotch. 

Of course, I thought.

I poured soap on my hands and lathered his cock and balls. It occurred to me as long as I'd be sucking it later on, it would be to my benefit to clean him as well as I could.

I tried to make cleaning him as perfunctory, and fast, as I could. But it came as no surprise when my hands caused him to become fully erect. Just as I rinsed his cock free of soap, he turned-around, and presented his buttocks to my face. He spread-open the cheeks, and shouted something.

Uh-oh, I thought, as a wave of revulsion hit my senses. I didn't know if he wanted me to lick his asshole or wash it. I chose to wash it. Apparently it was the right choice because he didn't scream or hit me.

Once again I told myself to clean him well; it was very likely my tongue would be inside his asshole later on.

When he was satisfied with my efforts, he turned and faced me again. I could see his cock-slit oozing pre-cum as he presented it to my lips. There was no hesitation---I immediately sucked his cock into my mouth and began pleasuring him.

It was at this point I shut-off my mind. I didn't think of anything but sucking his cock---doing the best I could to make him cum in my mouth as quickly as possible.

After he shot his load, I cleaned the excess stickiness from his flesh. He pulled his flaccid prick from between my lips and started to climb out of the pond. I rose to my feet and he screamed at me. Once again he motioned for me to sit down.

He shouted to his men, and the soldier who had been in the lead all day appeared in the room. He wasted no time in removing his garments.

Sparkle-Eyes spoke to me as though I could understand what he was saying; amazingly enough, I did understand. He was telling me to perform the same ritual with this man as I had with him. 

My question had been answered. He was going to share me with his men. I was going to be a Taliban cum-slut that night.

I don't recall if I was sucking the third or fourth man, but suddenly I heard a commotion from the main chamber. Gun shots echoed thru-out the cave.




Taliban Concubine Ch. 02



Startled, I pulled away from the man's cock feeling a mixture of fear, and hope. Did Sergeant Rick find me? Were he and his men killing the Taliban in the main chamber?

Suddenly, the man who I'd been pleasing brought his open hands swiftly down and crashed them on my ears. My head shook from the pain; stars danced before my eyes. He roughly pulled my head to his groin and I quickly resumed sucking his cock while bells were ringing in my ears.

I decided then and there, whenever I had a Taliban cock in my mouth, I would focus only on that cock. If World War III broke out around me, I would continue sucking until I was told to stop.

The fifth and final man discharged in my mouth, and I after I cleaned him, I heard Sparkle-Eyes yelling at me. I climbed out of the pond; he grabbed my arm and led me a short distance to another small pond.

On the ground I saw not only the garments I'd been wearing, but of all the men. They were heaped in a tall pile. 

He pointed at what looked to be soap, and was speaking a mile-a-minute. I guessed he was giving me instructions. It took me a few seconds, but I finally realized he wanted me to wash the clothes.

He pointed to a wall, and incredibly, I saw a long rope hanging horizontally.

Good grief, I thought. That's a clothes-line. He wants me to scrub their clothes in the pond then hang them on the rope to dry. In the village where we were housed, I sometimes watched older Afghani women scrub their families' clothes in a similar fashion. 

I'm not only their cock-slut, I thought, but their washer-woman, too. Is this my future? 

If I'd learned anything at all, it was to do as they want, as quickly as humanly possible. I went at my appointed job with gusto. 

I was actually glad to be doing it; the clothes, including my own, smelled awful, and I would be happy wearing clean garments the next day.

Sparkle-Eyes now wore a thin, colorful robe. It looked to be more ornamental than functional. 

He grinned as he watched my fast and efficient movements. I was no longer self-conscious of my nudity. In a strange way, I enjoyed the lecherous glances he and his men gave me when I caught them staring at my body.

When I finished, and he marched me back into the main chamber, something smelled wonderful; it had the aroma of real food. I was starving after living on goat-jerky for a day.

I saw what appeared to be meat hanging above the fire; the flames leapt-up, licking at the small pieces, turning them to a golden brown.

Sparkle-Eyes pointed at a blanket on the ground and grunted; I sat down and waited.

One of the soldiers was using his knife on small branches from a tree or bush. I watched him whittle the small sticks until they were clean of bark, and each one had a fine point on one end.

Another soldier used one of those sticks and expertly stabbed it thru five small chunks of meat then handed it to me.

No one else was eating, and I didn't know if I should start eating or wait for them. The soldier said something and nodded his head; I took that as a sign to begin.

The meat was tender and delicious. I had no idea what it was, but at that moment, it was the best-tasting meat I'd had in a long time. It almost tasted like chicken.

When they were done eating, they all sat cross-legged on the ground, and smoked from a pipe. They'd each inhale a lungful then pass the pipe to the next man. The smoke had the same rich and pleasant aroma as the previous night. They did not pass the pipe to me.

My heart began to race; my blood pressure rose. I knew what would be coming next. 

In fact, I surreptitiously snuck glances at the soldier's mid-sections. They wore robes similar to Sparkle-Eyes, and I was fascinated as I watched their hardening cocks slowly expanding outwards, forming tent-like bulges against the thin fabric of their robes.

I don't know why, but seeing their growing arousal before my very eyes caused my own prick to stiffen. 

Someone stood and dragged an old, rickety-chair near the fire. Sparkle-Eyes rose then sat on the chair. He crooked a finger at me and beckoned me to join him. He raised his robe above his waist exposing himself for all to see. He patted one thigh and pulled me to him. I sat on his large, muscular leg.

The cave was silent except for the crackling of the fire. My heart was now pounding and I was sure the soldiers could hear it.

Sparkle-Eyes began talking to his men. Softly and slowly he spoke. His voice reminded me of a school teacher explaining something to his class. The men's eyes were fixed upon him. One of the soldiers stood and left my field of vision. 

Sparkle-Eyes said something then massaged my breasts until my nipples burst into hard, steel points. The men murmured and nodded their heads. When his hand suddenly grasped my erection I gasped and heard soft and low laughter from the men. He stroked my shaft until pre-cum leaked from my slit. His finger scooped-up the fluid then he presented it to my mouth.

I knew I had to play along. I sucked the finger into my mouth and tasted my own juices for the first time in my life.

The man who'd walked away returned carrying a small bowl, and a tube-like object. I swore I read English writing on the tube that contained the word 'cigar.'

The man wore a thin, shiny leather glove on one hand. I wondered why?

I saw what was in the bowl. It was the green, paste-like substance from the night before; the paste that had transformed my friends from kicking and screaming into willing participants in their own debauchery.

The soldier coated the leather glove with paste. Sparkle-Eyes pushed my legs further apart until my balls were dangling free from his leg.

I felt the soft leather glove grasp my scrotum; the warm paste was smeared over my scrotum. He then coated the glove with more paste and took hold of my prick. He stroked my shaft until it too was covered with the slimy green substance.

Sparkle-Eyes assisted me to my feet and pushed my legs even further apart. Two men approached and held me. 

I watched the man with the glove dip the tube into the bowl of paste. I was bent over, hands opened my buttocks. The small, round tip of the tube was pressing on my anus. I gave an audible gasp as the tube pushed thru my opening. The man insistently pushed the tube all the way inside me; he slowly fucked me with the tube for several seconds.

The man was finished; I was once again sitting on Sparkle-Eyes legs. He placed my hand on his hard cock and showed me what he wanted. 

I caressed his balls and scrotum then moved my hand upwards to his cock and lightly stroked it. He wanted me to keep moving my hand up-and-down over his balls and cock.

We sat in silence. I was fully aware of all eyes on me. It seemed they were just watching and waiting.

Why? What were they waiting for? I wondered. I found out soon enough.

It was getting warm 'down there.' The warmth spread quickly. There was no pain---only a growing heat that seemed like it would never stop.

My scrotum and penis became warmer and warmer. The strange thing was the heat seemed to be deep inside, not just the surface flesh; my balls suddenly became burning hot; no pain, only deep, intense heat.

My cock was so hot I instinctively grasped it with my hand; it felt sooo-goood when I squeezed and stroked it.

Sparkle-Eyes slapped my hand away. I groaned in disappointment. 

My asshole was on fire. I pressed my buttocks hard on his leg; I wanted to rub my anus against him. I was so grateful when his finger began stroking my entrance I may have said "Thank you."

I heard him say something but my whole focus was on the hot flesh between my open legs.

A man appeared before me. He raised his robe and inches from my face was his beautiful erection. I didn't wait---I sucked it deep into my mouth and furiously bobbed my head back-and-forth over that wonderful piece of hot flesh.

Sparkle-Eyes gripped my hair and slowed-down my movements. He set the pace for my sucking. 

I whimpered---I wanted to suck all the cum out of this man's balls, but it would take forever going this slow. My tongue couldn't get enough of the man's hot, salty flavor.

"MMMmmmmm mmmmmmm..." I moaned into the man's hot flesh.

My moaning became non-stop. I ground my ass on Sparkle-Eyes finger; my hips jerked and wriggled, trying desperately to push his finger inside me. My rectum demanded to be filled, but he was cruelly taunting and teasing me. I wanted him to finger-fuck me.

He never let go of my hair. He began to brutally push my head forward as the man thrust his cock ever deeper in my mouth. I didn't care at all---I wanted to swallow his entire cock---maybe that would quench the burning fire and lust that was consuming my mind, as well as my body.

My left hand was still massaging Sparkle-Eyes cock and balls. My free hand was wrapped tightly around the shaft of the man I was sucking; frantically stroking him; urging him to climax.

The first salvo of sperm and semen surprised me. The man hadn't cried-out, or given me any indication he was about to climax. I quickly regained my composure and greedily swallowed every drop he gave me. 

I felt an enormous thrill inside me; I was deeply moved and honored he deemed me worthy enough to cum in my mouth. I wanted to cry.

What the hell is wrong with me? I wondered. Snap out of it---that damned green paste is turning me into a whore---don't let them do this! 

When his limp prick slid from my mouth he quickly moved to the side and the next soldier took his place. I took his cock into my mouth the second he raised his robe and revealed it to me.

I'd never felt such arousal; I tried touching my cock again only to have it cruelly yanked away. My entire groin was screaming for attention. 

Maybe he'll allow me to cum once I'd sucked them all off, I said to myself.

My world was nothing but cock. The single thought in my head was to satisfy the cock in my mouth, and the burning lust I felt in my own.

Cock-after-cock was presented to my mouth, and I obsessively sucked them all. I had no idea how many loads of cum I swallowed, I didn't care---I wanted more.

When the last man pulled his cock from my mouth and there was no one in line behind him, I whimpered with frustration. The heat in my balls and cock was burning hotter than ever. I was crazy-dizzy with insatiable lust.

I suddenly became aware of Sparkle-Eyes hardness pressing against my anus. He hadn't climaxed yet, maybe I could get him to fuck me in the ass; I wanted him to be the first.

He was gripping my hips, positioning my asshole on his hardness. I wanted to push down and impale myself on his magnificent cock.

There was a discussion. One of his men was talking to Sparkle-Eyes. They began to argue. I knew Sparkle-Eyes wanted to fuck me as much as I wanted him to, but he hesitated.

The other man pleaded with him; vigorously shaking his head 'NO' over-and-over. 

Sparkle-Eyes said something in a weary voice of disappointment and pulled his cock away from my entrance. I groaned with frustration.

Men grabbed me and stood me up; I was bent over. I felt Sparkle-Eyes cock on my asscheeks. My hands were pulled behind me and they showed me what they wanted.

They made me spread my buttocks far apart---that gave me hope that he'd still fuck me; but no, instead he insinuated his throbbing cock between my cheeks and began moving forward-and-back. I pressed my cheeks together and captured his prick between them.  

The full length of his manly cock rubbing against my anus felt wonderful, natural, but it did precious little to quench my burning need and desire. I needed to feel his hard cock inside of me---I truly wanted him to fuck me in the ass.

He slid his cock back-and-forth with jackhammer-like thrusts. His urgency told me he was close.

Suddenly, he gripped my hips harder---he bellowed and shouted---his cock exploded and his hot jizz flooded the crack of my ass. Streams of warm semen ran down my inner thighs. 

His orgasm inflamed me even more. I cried out in desperation:

"PLEASE LET ME CUM--- PLEEEEEEEZZZ ZZZZZZZZZ..."

The men howled in laughter. They didn't speak English but they damn sure knew what I was yelling.

They stood me upright; my legs still far apart. The cool air on my anus did nothing to relieve the burning need I felt.

One man took my hand and placed it on my cock. I immediately began to madly masturbate---no one stopped me. They pulled my free hand between my thighs; someone gingerly pressed my middle finger to my anus.

Tiny electrical-like sparks shot thru my body as I rubbed my anus. GOD THAT FEELS GOOD!!

The heat inside my asshole was unbearable; rubbing the entrance wasn't enough---I needed something inside me.

I pushed my finger thru the tight ring of my virgin anus. I expected pain but felt only wave-after-wave of indescribable pleasure. Without a thought in my head, I rammed my finger inside my asshole as far as it would go.

The paste had turned to liquid and my finger became wet and slick and easily slid back-and-forth inside my rectum. 

I was vaguely aware of the men clapping and whistling, but my only thought was wishing my finger had been longer and thicker.

I thrust it in-and-out of my asshole and stroked my cock faster and harder. The semen in my balls was boiling and my climax was near. 

I stood before strange men, unashamedly, and enthusiastically masturbating and finger-fucking myself. I didn't care. Whatever self-respect I had clung to, was now totally gone. 

It suddenly occurred to me there was something very wrong. I was at the very pinnacle of excitement and arousal, my cock ultra-sensitive, but I couldn't cum. No matter how hard and fast I stroked it---I couldn't get myself to climax.

I whimpered and groaned and worked at it with increased vigor; my hand became a blur. I finger-fucked myself with wild abandon...still nothing.

I looked at the men thru glazed-over eyes and saw the derisive smirks on their faces. This was the cruelest torture of all: I guessed some ingredient in that green slime was preventing my orgasm; delaying my climax for their enjoyment.

So that was it. I was nothing more than their entertainment. Maybe I wouldn't be able to cum at all. Tears began to trickle from my eyes. 

I couldn't stop, though. The searing heat and need in my cock and asshole screamed louder and louder. My lust begged me; cajoled me into humiliating myself further before the eyes of my Taliban captors. 

I no longer cared I was weak; I willingly gave in to my all-consuming lust. 

I taught myself how to close the walls of my asshole around my finger. I moaned loudly from the exquisite sensations.

The men sitting nearest me had raised their robes exposing their semi-hard cocks. I watched them fondle and caress their genitals; soon, they sported full-blown erections.

I focused on one in particular. It was long and slender with a prominent vein running its length. I fantasized it was inside me; fucking me with long, hard thrusts.

Animal-like noises escaped my throat--- I began growling like a mad dog--- I was close--- damn close!

My entire body was consumed by the heat. Sweat poured from my forehead; my hips pushed violently backwards against the imaginary cock pounding my ass.

Yes-yes- yes---fuck me with that wonderful cock! Fill me with your cum!

I closed my eyes---my neck snapped upwards. My head exploded and I screamed at the top of my lungs.

"OH-GOD--- OH-GOD--- OH-GOD------ YES-YES-YES--- I'M-CUMMINGGG- I'M-CUMMMM INGGGGG—YYYYEEEE ESSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSSS..."

The men howled with laughter and heartily approved of my performance with applause and loud whistles. 

I was gasping for air. The fog in my head was slowly lifting. I became acutely self-conscious of the limp dick in my hand, and the finger still buried deep in my ass. I pulled my hands away from my body.

My breathing hadn't quite yet returned to normal when Sparkle-Eyes pushed me to the blanket and forced me on all fours. He pointed at the hard cock of his point-man sitting four-feet from me; I scrambled on my hands and knees to him and immediately lowered my head and took his erection in my mouth.

I lovingly, and eagerly, sucked their cocks and brought them all to orgasm one more time.

Later, I dreamt of Rebecca; my sweet, and beautiful Rebecca; her pouting lips, the softness of her breasts; the tiny dimples on her cheeks when she smiled at me. Oh, Rebecca...my sweet, sweet darling Rebecca---suddenly she was gone, and all I could see were hard cocks.

My mind filled with images of cocks: long ones-short ones-fat ones-thin ones. I could even smell them; their different aroma's; taste the varying thickness and flavors of their cum. I loved the thought of spending eternity on my knees, pleasuring and servicing men's hard cocks.

I woke with a start. It was pitch-black and I was snuggling tightly against Sparkle-Eyes. My eyes filled with tears. I shivered, not from cold, but out of unbridled fear. 

I remembered the lust and desire I felt earlier when I sucked their cocks. How excited I became when I was able to coax them into cumming in my mouth. 

My God---what have I become? How could I possibly have these feelings? 

Fear and self-loathing overwhelmed me. I quietly sobbed in the darkness. 

My penis and scrotum were still tingling and ultra-sensitive. It had been far and away the most spectacular, mind-shattering climax of my life. I never knew sex could feel that good. 

I was sick with worry; after just two days with these men I had accepted my role as their sex-boy. 

I had learned how to kiss and lick their balls and cocks; how to suck their shafts deeply into my mouth and swirl my tongue on their flesh. I was now able to swallow their jizz without spilling a drop; but what scared me most of all was the pleasure I received when I heard their moans and groans, and their exclamations of joy when they discharged their loads down my throat. 

In a brief flash of clarity, I saw exactly who and what I had become: Yes, I was now a full-fledged Taliban cocksucker, and YES---I was their prisoner of war, and would obey their commands without hesitation. 

Hard cocks and large, hairy balls whirled about in my subconscious. I dreamt of making love with a faceless man who possessed a super-huge cock. I couldn't fit his cockhead in my mouth; his balls were too big to suck; I was whimpering and crying in frustration at my inability to satisfy him. 

The man in my dream was consoling me; stroking my face and hair, and gently squeezing my cock: GOD, IT FELT GOOD!!

My eyes suddenly popped open---it wasn't a dream; Sparkle-Eyes hand was gripping my hardness and he smiled down into my face. I smiled back at him.

He released my cock and guided my own hand to it. He nodded his head and I masturbated in front of his steely-gaze. I felt neither shame nor embarrassment performing such a private act before his penetrating, watchful eyes. 

On the contrary, the intensity of his stare emboldened and inflamed my passions. I stroked my cock with wild abandon.

It was another wonderful orgasm. My entire body shook and wriggled as cum shot straight in the air then landed on my belly making soft, splashing noises.

Sparkle-Eyes smiled, kissed my cheek, and patted my head; he then pointed to his long and thick erection. 

I scrambled between his legs as quick as I could. I knew what he liked and set about pleasuring him. 

When he finally discharged in my mouth, I couldn't swallow his cum fast enough; something had changed; instead of gagging and retching on his foul-tasting gruel, I actually enjoyed the flavor. 

How can this be? I wondered. Hmmm...rich...creamy---almost sweet. I like it! 

He patted my head again and said something I didn't understand. I took it to mean "Good boy!"




Taliban Concubine Ch. 02



My first thought was: What a pleasant way to begin a new day. 

I immediately felt ridiculous for thinking that. What kind of person was I becoming?

I noticed the soldiers were dressed in their clean garments. Sparkle-Eyes was dressing, too. I saw my clothes nearby and reached for them. He stopped me, pointed to his men then gently rubbed my lips with his finger.

I remembered Eddy and Georgie from two-nights ago, and I assumed the position they had taken while waiting for the soldiers to use them.

Upright, on my knees, hands clasped behind my neck, elbows pointing straight-out, and my head bowed, staring at the ground. Sparkle-Eyes chuckled and kissed my forehead.

I heard the first man approach and suddenly saw his feet before me. He softly patted my head and I raised my face until I was staring directly at the thick, purple knob of his hard cock. A copious amount of pre-cum had leaked from the slit. 

I immediately cupped his balls, grasped his shaft, and licked the slick pre-cum from his cockhead. Wasting no time, I wet my lips and sucked his manhood into my mouth.

When he began moaning and thrusting his hips to-and-fro, I was awash in pride and self-satisfaction that he was enjoying the use of my mouth for his pleasure.

He flooded my mouth with semen and as I was gulping it down, I realized his cum tasted as good as Sparkle-Eyes had. I wondered what had changed overnight to cause me to suddenly like the taste of cum.

One at a time the men approached with raised robes exposing their hard cocks to my waiting, and eager mouth. Once I serviced the last man, the first soldier reappeared; I thought he wanted seconds and opened my mouth wide for him. 

No, he handed me a stick, skewered with three large chunks of meat. I took it from him and looked around; all the other men were chomping on goat-jerky. Apparently they were giving me the last of the meat.

I looked at him thru quizzical eyes; he smiled and stroked my face and said something to me.

I didn't understand, but his voice was kind and sincere.

I imagined he said: "This is your reward for giving us pleasure...you have become a truly magnificent Taliban cocksucker."

Wrapped in my tight-fitting garments, Sparkle-Eyes guided me thru the cave. As was the case yesterday, we were leaving the cave in a different direction than we'd entered.

The only light came from a torch the point-man was carrying. I was grateful we were right behind him and not pulling up the rear.

Sparkle-Eyes said something to me and pointed at the side of the cave.

I looked and saw what he wanted, but, at first, I didn't know what I was looking at. A sudden chill ran up my spine when I recognized the patterns; it was a discarded snakeskin---then I saw another one. 

I was confused; I looked at Sparkle-Eyes and he patted his belly as if to say: "Weren't they delicious?"

Just then we passed an opening to another chamber. 

What is that sound? I wondered. The noise became deafening with hissing as we went by.

Oh my God---it's full of snakes! That must be where the men 'caught' our dinner.

The point-man took a sharp left turn and we followed closely behind. I thought it incredible these men could navigate this elaborate labyrinth of narrow pathways, and numerous antechambers. 

How in the world did the man know which direction would lead us out of here?

A half-hour later I saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. I almost shouted my joy; the walls were starting to close-in on me.

Once outside, I filled my lungs with fresh air. I felt alive again. It was a beautiful day, not too hot yet.

My jubilation was short-lived. Instead of leading us down the mountain, the point-man began walking up the steep slope. My head snapped-up and I estimated we were a mile from the peak. 

The first half-hour wasn't too bad. We were making good time and were only a quarter-mile from the top. We came to a semi-flat area and stopped. 

Sparkle-Eyes handed me a canteen with water. I drank two large swallows then gave it back. He showed me another canteen; I took the first one back and drank nearly half of it. He smiled and nodded his head.

We began our ascent; the slope was now extremely steep, and treacherous with rocks; grooves and ruts from past flooding made it even more difficult to climb.

I decided to stop looking at the peak, and concentrate on taking one step at a time. It seemed to help make the climb easier.

When I finally looked-up, wow, we were only twenty-feet from the top. My spirits lifted and I felt re-energized.

I suddenly noticed an odor in the air. It was almost indiscernible, but it instantly reminded me of honey.

The last five feet was so steep, when the point-man reached the top, he stuck-out his walking stick to me; I held onto it, and he pulled me the rest of the way to the top.

The smell of honey became sickly sweet. Where in the world is that coming from? I wondered.

I turned my head and saw what was on the other side of the mountain. I visibly started; my body flinched.

As far as I could see were fields of red flowers. I looked closer and saw what appeared to be channels of water, wide gravel paths, and, way-off in the distance, I saw buildings. They were tiny specks from our vantage point, but they were definitely buildings.

Sparkle-Eyes put his arm around me and pointed at the buildings and said something. I thought I detected a hint of sadness in his voice. 

I think he was telling me, "That will be your new home."

We began our descent and once again, the first fifty-feet or so were the most dangerous. After that, it was almost fun as we quickly made our way down to flat-land.

Sparkle-Eyes drank from his canteen and gave it to me. He made a motion as if telling me: "Finish it." So I did.

We began walking again. The flowers were further away than it looked from atop the mountain. We were heading straight at them.

I knew, of course, that these were poppy fields. I also knew Afghanistan was the top producer of heroin for the world drug trade. I put two-and-two together and figured the soldiers were going to hand me over to a Drug Lord. 

I became very frightened again. Sergeant Rick had regaled us with many stories of the ruthless and cruel Drug Lords in this region of the country. 

Violent thru necessity, sadistic by nature; the Drug Lords were known for quick and brutal retaliation to anyone interfering with their opium crops. 

Sergeant Rick told one story that stuck in my head: a Drug Lord was on the porch of his house playing with his grandchildren and dogs when his men approached dragging an accused thief along with them.

After sending the children, and dogs, inside the house, the accused thief was stripped naked, and stood trembling before the Drug Lord begging for his life. 

The Drug Lord smiled and told the man he would be allowed to live. The man fell to his knees, groveling, kissing the Drug Lords feet. The Drug Lord nodded to his men and a large knife was pulled from its sheath; in one swift, and terrible motion, the man's scrotum was sliced cleanly off. 

It was rumored the Drug Lord sent the still-intact ball sac to the man's wife. The man himself, slightly effeminate by Afghani standards, was given to the Drug Lords men for their enjoyment and pleasure.

Thinking of that story always made me cringe and shiver. 

Trees and large bushes obscured my vision of the buildings. The last look I'd had at them I guessed we were less than a mile away.

I heard running water. To my right I saw a small stream with rapidly flowing water. There was a shady area beside the gravel road next to the stream. Sparkle-Eyes signaled it was time for a short break.

Two of the men, who had emptied their canteens, kneeled beside the stream, lowered their faces, and drank the water directly from the stream. Sparkle-Eyes gave me what remained in his second canteen. He stooped over and filled the other one from the stream.

Sparkle-Eyes gave the command to leave. The five soldiers were talking among themselves; only they could hear what was said.

The point-man suddenly spoke up. His voice was cautious, but playful. Small smiles formed on their lips as they all stared at me. They were asking Sparkle-Eyes a question. He too began to smile. He slowly nodded his head.

I knew exactly what they wanted...they figured this would be their last time alone with me. Once we arrived at the buildings they'd give me to their boss, The Drug Lord, and these men knew he would never share me with them.

They wanted me on my knees one last time; they wanted the young man they'd trained to be a Taliban cocksucker to suck cum out of their stiffening cocks for the final time.

Sparkle-Eyes looked me square in my eyes. He didn't say a word; he didn't order me to do it; he didn't even ask me to do it. I don't know why, but I felt a debt of gratitude towards him. 

Yes, he had hurt me the first night, but that was part of my training. When I'd finally stopped resisting, he'd become very protective of me, even kind and gentle. We shared tender moments alone together. I felt a strong bond with him, and if I wasn't mistaken, his affection for me had grown as well. 

Our eyes locked together. A smile came to my lips. Without his asking, or demanding, or motioning to me, I dropped to my knees.

I heard the soldiers murmuring with appreciation, and anticipation. 

The point-man walked up to me and I saw his excitement straining against the robe. He lifted the garment and exposed himself to me. 

With my newly-acquired skills, I did my very best to pleasure him and all the others that followed.



Taliban Concubine Ch. 03



My mouth was filled with warm, throbbing cock-flesh, but my gaze was trained on Sparkle-Eyes. I wasn't staring at him really; it was more surreptitious glances now and again. 

He was sitting a few feet away watching me suck his men's cocks with a bemused expression on his face, a wistful look in his eyes.

That he was going to miss me when he handed me over to the Drug Lord was obvious; but there was something else going on inside him, too. 

He had grown fond of me; he'd become attentive and shown great concern for my comfort and well-being-dare I say he loved me? I know how odd that sounds, to say a ruthless Taliban soldier suddenly developed feelings for his enemy is ridiculous, but nonetheless, that is how it felt to me. 

Once I'd finally coaxed an orgasm from the last of his five soldiers, Sparkle-Eyes beckoned me to him. 

Instead of crawling on my knees or all-fours in a subservient manner, I stood and walked to where he was sitting on a boulder; staring into his eyes the whole time.

I didn't break my gaze when I dropped to my knees either; I was determined to not look away until he did. His hands were at his side, his robe still covering his obvious erection. 

I raised his garment and freed his throbbing member; my hand found his balls and gently held them; I grasped his steel-hard shaft then slid my lips over his swollen cockhead and took him into my mouth.

Our eyes remained locked together. I angled his shaft downward while I slowly bobbed my head back-and-forth; all the while gazing into his sparkling, brown eyes.

His large, calloused hand stroked my hair and face. He began mumbling below his breath. His voice was soft and tender, but, of course, I didn't understand a word he was saying. 

I chose to believe he was whispering 'terms of endearment' in my ear.

His hot and hard penis pulsated and throbbed in my mouth. I quickened my pace. His hips began to thrust forward ever-so-slightly. I watched the joy and pleasure dancing in the dark brown of his eyes. 

He suddenly threw his head back, and grunted "OHHH."

His eyes closed and broke our loving trance. I shifted my attention to his cock. 

His body stiffened—he was completely still for a nanosecond-then he jerked and bucked and wildly thrust his exploding cock deeper into my mouth.

"OOOOHHHHHHHHH-UUUGGGHHHHHHHH-ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH..."

The language of orgasm is universal.

I had become very good at not allowing cum to escape my mouth. His discharge seemed unusually thick and creamy; I swore I detected the slightest flavor of the snake-meat we'd had for dinner the previous evening.

I was standing, using my tongue to clean my lips and the roof of my mouth clean. Two soldiers came to wrap my face and head with the scarves; Sparkle-Eyes took them and said something to the men. The purpose of the scarves still eluded me. The men returned to the well-traveled gravel road and walked away from us.

When they'd rounded a bend and were out of sight, Sparkle-Eyes suddenly took me in his arms, held my head then kissed me full on the lips. I was so surprised I coughed.

He pulled his face away, allowed me to take a deep breath then kissed me again. I hugged him and returned his kiss. 

We gazed into each other's eyes; not a single word was said. 

I didn't know what heartbreak looked like, but it had to be close to what I was seeing in his eyes.

He slowly wrapped my head with the scarves, carefully placing the tiny slits over my nose and eyes.

We began walking. Well behind the soldiers, his hand found mine. We held hands and walked in-step towards the buildings, still far-off in the distance, where I would discover whatever fate the future held for me.

The early afternoon sun beat down on us. I was sweating and gasping for air inside my cocoon of heavy fabric. My mind wandered; I wanted to think of anything besides my current plight.

The Taliban belief system concerning sex disturbed me. Their religion strictly forbade homosexuality, even so far as condemning men to death, if caught in the act. Yet, amazingly, all of the soldiers I'd encountered in my captivity, showed no reluctance when it came to sexually using myself and Eddy and Georgie for their enjoyment.

Sergeant Rick had told stories of an Afghani tradition called 'Man-Love Thursday'-when men would find a willing male partner and relieve their pent-up lusts and desires.

I remembered the words of Rafsjani, an important Afghani man in the village near our camp. When asked, he gave us the Taliban rationale for their behavior.

"Gentlemen, we all know the male sex drive is nonstop-never-ending...we also know that women are 'unclean,' meant only for childbirth-to provide a man offspring to carry on his family bloodline...it is a biological necessity for men to release their semen, we are all born this way...and since women besides wives are off-limit-where better to relieve oneself than inside a snug-fitting bottom of a pretty young man-the ancient Greeks knew this...we have a saying in my country: 'Women are for procreation—men are for recreation.'"

Someone argued: "But your religion prohibits homosexuality-how in the world can you justify this behavior?"

With a look of astonishment on his face, Rafsjani replied, "A man is homosexual if he falls in love with another man...sex has nothing to do with it!"

Rafsjani was a wise, village elder, he was rumored to be an agent for the CIA. None of us laughed at his statement, or even questioned him.

Anyway, I had grown tired of the vagaries and inconsistencies of religious teachings long ago...his hypocritical answer didn't surprise me in the least.

Sparkle-Eyes suddenly dropped my hand. I looked up and saw a tall, brick tower just ahead of us. It had to be forty-feet high, and there was a man on top looking down on us.

A guard tower, I concluded. I saw three others as I scanned the property. The buildings were all brick and mortar. They appeared to be very, very old.

We followed the road as it swung wide of the guard tower. Trees and bushes still blocked my fill view of the buildings. 

Ahead was a clearing, and I could see another bend in the road. Suddenly, the fragrant air from the poppy fields almost bowled me over; thick and stifling; I struggled for oxygen thru the tiny slits in the scarves. 

We were now out of the trees; I saw nothing but field after field of red poppies. The road cut a swath between one field and another. When I looked left I finally saw the buildings. We were still a half-mile away, but I was able to sense the enormity of the complex; it was more like a compound.

We walked twenty-minutes more then came to a fork in the road. The road on the left led to the compound; the one diagonally branching-off right led to a series of more buildings. Those appeared to be huge quonset huts, long and narrow.

The soldiers ahead of us veered-off to the right; Sparkle-Eyes gently guided me to the left, towards what must have been the Drug Lord's compound.

The closer we walked to the house, the stronger my heart pounded; I clenched my fists to hide the trembling of my hands.

To ease my fears, I studied the house. It was huge, but looked very medieval; old and dilapidated; everything was in dire need of a coat of paint, and fixing-up.

The brick façade was crumbling in places, and the wooden shutters closed over the windows were loose, banging in the light breeze. 

I saw no power poles and guessed the house had neither electricity nor running water.

What kind of rich and powerful Drug Lord lives like this? I wondered.

There was an outside walkway running the length of the house. Sparkle-Eyes motioned me up the four-steps to the walkway.

That was my first surprise. The walkway contained ornate, intricately detailed tiles. The tiles looked almost brand new.

We stood near a door waiting no longer than thirty-seconds before it swung open; and outside stepped a tall, elegantly-dressed man in his forties. He was powerfully built; his black hair and small black beard were neatly groomed. 

The robes he wore were of the finest material, colorful with sharp hand stitching and embroidery. His skin-tone was slightly darker than Sparkle-Eyes.

His piercing brown eyes stared directly at Sparkle-Eyes waiting for him to speak. I could sense that Sparkle-Eyes was afraid of this man. 

Now this is what an Afghani Drug Lord should look like! I mused.

Sparkle-Eyes stuttered; spoke slowly and carefully. The man listened; nodded his head; then replied.

Sparkle-Eyes abruptly turned and left us standing on the terrace. His sudden departure surprised me-he didn't say good-bye. I felt a strange sadness.

I felt foolish that I expected any different. I reminded myself I was nothing more than a Taliban prisoner. I had no rights to expectations-I was their property to be used as they desired.

The Drug Lord motioned me inside. That was where I received the biggest surprise of all.

I had grown-up middle class; my parents were hard-working people who did the best they could to provide for me and my sisters; we were not poor; but we weren't rich, either. 

Whenever they'd take us to the lake in the summer, we drove by mansions and walled-in estates. All of us would point to one mansion or another and say 'I want to live there!' Even my parents played the game.

What I saw inside the house simply took my breath away. The furnishings reeked of money. What I was looking at had such fancy names that I never knew what they were called because I'd never be in the position to buy them. 

The inside of the Drug Lord's house was how I'd pictured the inside of all those mansions by the lake.

I stood in the center of the room; the tall, masculine Drug Lord by my side. I could smell a manly fragrance coming from him. He seemed to be waiting for something or someone. 

To our right was a long, dimly lit hallway. Two figures suddenly appeared at the far end. The Drug Lord positioned me facing the hallway. Curiously, I wondered who the approaching men were, and why we were waiting for them.

The taller of the two men came into the light. I was taken aback; he was hunched over, wearing faded, and shabby robes that were much too big for him. His face and head wore a mass of unruly grey hairs; he looked to be a hundred-years old, but I guessed him to be somewhere in his seventies.

Who's the Old Geezer? I wondered.

The Old Man grunted at the Drug Lord and made a dismissive gesture towards him. The Drug Lord bowed then stepped aside and stood by the nearest wall.

Uh-oh, I thought. I may be wrong about this...the big man may not be the Drug Lord-NO-OH MY GOD-it's the Old Man-the decrepit Old Man is the Drug Lord!

I took note of the figure standing beside the Old Man. I was truly grateful the scarves covered my face and hid my reactions. I had to consciously stop myself from laughing; he looked ridiculous.

The man was about my height and weight, but looked to be in his forties; he had light brown hair with streaks of grey, but his was neatly combed and coiffed. He was naked except for what I called 'Harem pants'-I'd seen them in drawings and depictions of girl's in middle eastern harems belonging to Kings or Sultans or whoever.

His face and body was extremely white, almost a pasty, sickly color. The powder blue harem pants had a lace waistband; they clung to his lower body and ended with more lace around his mid-calves. 

Even more disturbing was the harem pants were translucent; diaphanous. The man's genitals were on display to anyone who looked. His scrotum and semi-erect penis were clearly visible to all.

He made the most ludicrous sight I'd ever laid eyes on. 

The Old Man barked at him and he came to me and began peeling away the scarves on my head. The fresh air on my face was a huge relief. I took three deep breaths, and remained calm as my robes and garments were stripped from me.

I stood nude before the Old Man's squinting eyes. He crudely smacked his lips as his eyes traveled up-and-down my body. 

He shouted something else and Pasty-Man lifted my arms above my head; I understood he wanted me to clasp them together behind my neck. I felt his leg between mine pushing them further apart. I became extremely aware of my dangling penis and balls. 

The Old Man came close; slump-shouldered as he was, he still towered over me. He ran his hands lightly over my body; he made short comments to Pasty-Man who nodded in agreement with the Old Man.

The Old Man tugged at the hair under my arms then did the same with my pubic hair; he muttered something and Pasty-Man nodded his head. He forced my mouth open and examined my teeth; I felt more like a prized animal than a human being.

Pasty-Man swung me around and I felt the Old Man's hands on my back and buttocks. A finger slipped between my buttocks and pressed hard on my anus. It made a sudden, but firm push until half of it disappeared inside my asshole.

I jumped and yelped at the slightly painful intrusion and the Old Man chuckled. He said something that sounded like he approved. 

He shouted orders to the two men then left the room thru the darkened hallway. That was my introduction to the much-feared, all-powerful, Afghani Drug Lord. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Something nagged at my mind as I followed Pasty-Man, staring at him the whole way. I felt like I knew him-although we'd never met, there was something strangely familiar about him.

I thought about him as we walked-where do I know him from?

We stopped before a large door. Pasty-Man looked at the guard and said, "Zayd," then motioned for him to remain by the door. It surprised me; it seemed as though Pasty-Man was in charge. 

We entered a room and the first thing I saw was a huge, oversized bed. Like the rest of the house I'd seen thus far, the furnishings were opulent and very expensive.

The room had soft lighting; the bulbs were covered by decorative shades, but I was able to clearly see the fine, Afghani-made furniture and impressive décor. 

Something caught my eye; I slowly turned towards the bed and saw a large mirror on the ceiling. Oh my, I thought.

Pasty-Man led me into another room. It was a bathroom, but not like any bathroom I'd ever seen. 

On one side, I saw a huge bathtub with a stone wall and water flowing down crystalized rocks; I noticed showerheads on both ends of the tub. It wasn't a bathtub per se, but a tile floor with a drain with a two-foot high ledge; no curtain or door was needed as the shower sprays were several feet from the ledge.

Pasty-Man went to the other side of the room where sat a more traditional bathtub. He opened a gold-plated faucet and began filling the tub with hot water. He picked up a bottle of what appeared to be bubble-bath and poured a carefully measured amount into the tub.

My doubts concerning electricity and running water had certainly been dispelled. I'd never been inside a mansion before; everything was beautiful and obviously wildly expensive. I felt as though I didn't belong here.

Pasty-Man helped me into the tub, and I eased myself into the hot water. God, it felt wonderful.

He immediately set about washing me with soap. He scrubbed my flesh so hard it began to hurt. When his hand went for my crotch I instinctively used my hand to try and stop him.

"NYET," he shouted, and pushed my hand away.

Huh? What did he say? Bells and whistles and screaming alarms went-off inside my head.

Did he say 'NYET'? I stared at his face as he scrubbed my crotch. Impossible-he can't be-can he be? It's not possible he could have survived all these years! 

Suddenly, the story Rafsjani told us one night flooded my memory; a story about a solitary Russian soldier who was left behind in Afghanistan when the Russians had gone home.

During the 1980's, Russia fought Afghanistan in a war similar to ours...they had about as much success as we have had. Many Russians were killed and some were captured.

Rafsjani told us 'The Legend of Dmitri':

"It was Spring of 1987-an unusually wet and rainy spring," he began. "A small Russian squad was on routine patrol...maybe ten or so men...their jeep became stuck in mud—that is a common occurrence here during the wet season...it was near sundown and the squad leader assigned five men to stay with the jeep, to keep trying to free it from the mud...what the soldiers didn't know was they were being watched...Taliban soldiers were 'hiding in plain sight' on the mountain overlooking the men and jeep...when only the five Russians remained-the Taliban rushed down the hillside and surprised them...they were led by the fiercest Warrior-Drug Lord in all the country-Azad...the five Russians realized the hopelessness of their situation and quickly surrendered...

The Russians were lined-up and Azad stood before each man and examined him...the Russians were scared out of their minds, Azad was a large, brute-of-man-a terrifying figure with a cruel and brutal reputation...it is said that three of the Russians wet themselves during Azad's close scrutiny...Azad grunted but made no other comments until he came to the last Russian soldier...the soldiers face was smeared with mud, Azad barked an order and one of his men splashed water on the soldiers face, cleaning away the mud...it is said Azad's eyes became wider than the moon itself, and he literally sucked-in his breath when he saw the soldiers face...

The soldier was a mere boy-no more than nineteen-years of age and looked even younger...it is said Azad's demeanor and harshness instantly disappeared as he stroked the boy's face...Azad had never before seen such a beautiful boy...it is said Azad literally scooped the boy up into his arms and carried him away to his compound...the boy's name was Dmitri, and I have word from reliable sources, that to this day, he remains the concubine of Azad the Warrior-Drug Lord."

"That's incredible," I said. "The Russians just left him behind?"

Afsjani's lips parted in a smile and said, "The Russians went home in 1989...they tried to rescue Dmitri before they left...a diversion was used to get most of Azad's men out of the compound-the Russians sent in a small team and found Dmitri."

"Well," I said, "...if they found him why is he still here?"

Afsjani chuckled. "When the Russians saw what Dmitri had become-what Azad had turned him into-they were horrified and ashamed-they decided Dmitri could never live again in polite society-they abandoned him-they left him as they found him-an effeminate, fully-trained, sissy concubine to an Afghani Warrior-Drug Lord."

My skin began to tingle. There was a slight burning sensation. Dmitri, err, Pasty-Man was massaging some sort of cream to my flesh. I stared at him with a sense of awe and puzzlement.

Was this man really Dmitri? If he is, he survived quite nicely. He's physically in great shape, and he doesn't appear to be miserable or unhappy.

No, I concluded, he can't be Dmitri...well, maybe... 

He made me lift my arms over my head and applied the cream to my underarms. I was more curious about him than what sort of cream he was rubbing on me.

I screwed-up my courage and said, "Dmitri..."

He was busy at his task. I don't think he heard me.

"DMITRI," I said louder.

He whipped his head around and stared into my eyes.

"Yes..." he said. "...problem? Hurt much?"

OH MY GOD-IT'S HIM-IT'S DMITRI!! 

He's alive after all these years! He even understands English. How can this be? This is amazing-I was simply blown-away.

I didn't know what else to say. I had a million questions but unable to speak. I sat in wide-eyed wonderment watching him go about his business.

He began rinsing the cream from my body. He was very thorough. He pushed my legs apart and paid special attention to my penis and scrotum. It was very clinical, nothing sexual about it.




Taliban Concubine Ch. 03



When I was clean he had me stand. The first thing I noticed was-Whoa!-I no longer had pubic hair-none. I lifted an arm and saw no hair underneath. I ran my hand down one leg-same thing-smooth as a baby's bottom. I looked at my chest and the few hairs that had been there were gone. Save for my head, I was now just like him-totally hairless and smooth.

He wrapped me in a thick towel and began drying me; very luxurious. He had me sit in a softly cushioned chair at a vanity table and began blow-drying my hair. 

I was stunned-in shock. In the middle of Afghanistan-far from any town or city-inside a fabulous mansion, there I sat staring into a vanity mirror while a Russian soldier, wearing only diaphanous harem-girl pants, who had been living, and used like a woman for twenty-seven years waved an electrical appliance around my head drying my hair. 

No one in their right mind would ever believe this-hell, I didn't believe it! 

Dmitri took a brush in one hand and began stroking my hair while still using the dryer. My hair had become long; I was past due for a haircut.

I watched him in the mirror; I studied his face.

He was a good-looking man; he was more cute than handsome. Even at his age, his face had finely, chiseled features and blemish-free skin. It was easy to imagine him twenty-seven years earlier, and the appeal he had that attracted the Drug Lord.

He caught me looking at him and said, "I once pretty like you." His accent was thickly Russian

I felt his soft hand stroking my cheek. Our eyes met in the mirror; he had blue eyes like me.

He held my stare and said, "Do not fight or make him angry and you like it here."

It puzzled me as to where and how he had learned to speak English so well.

"I won't be here very long," I blurted out. "The United States Marines will rescue me from this place-my people will never leave me behind!" 

His smile at me was so heartbreakingly sad it caused me to involuntarily shiver and become frightened. Then he spoke softly as he stared into my moistening eyes.

"I, too, believed that for many, many years..."

I followed him into the bedroom and studied his body for the first time. The harem pants seemed too small for him and clung tightly to his round buttocks. It startled me to see how narrow his waist was, and how his hips flared out like a woman's. 

There were many faded markings across his buttocks; barely visible, almost healed.

"Do they punish you here?" I blurted out without thinking.

"Sometime punish-sometime for pleasure..." he said matter-of-factly. 

I mulled over his answer as I waited while he went to a chest of drawers. He rummaged thru a drawer then grunted his satisfaction and returned to me. Another shiver ran up-and-down my spine when I saw what he was holding.

He held out for me harem pants like his, only the ones he wanted me to wear were pink. I flushed a deep red and hesitated.

"You look nice in these, pretty-one...put on-see how fit you," he said.

There was nothing I could do so I took the pants from him. I was surprised how sheer, and smooth the material felt in my hand. I stepped into them and pulled them into place. Mine fit just as snugly as his.

I couldn't help myself; the sheer, feminine-feel of the fabric clinging to my buttocks was so delightful and sensual, my penis became semi-erect. I found myself unconsciously grinding my hips, trying to rub my prick against the deliciously sleek material. 

My cock rose to its full length; it pressed hard against the pants and I couldn't resist: I absentmindedly grabbed my prick thru the pants and stroked the fabric over my erection. I shivered, this time with delight; I'd never felt such an exquisite sensation in my life.

Dmitri laughed-I jerked my hand away; I was mortified with shame and embarrassment.

"It good you like pants-you wear every day-make it easy to service Sayid."

He stood close to me; he took my hand in his and said: "Now feel mine-make it hard...we must be excited when Sayid sees us-it pleases him."

He guided my hand to his semi-hard prick and I closed my fingers around it. I did as I was told. I stroked his warm flesh and felt it grow in my hand. His cock was the same thickness as mine, but an inch longer.

Three-days ago, I couldn't have imagined handling another man's cock. He smiled as I used the same pressure and rhythm on his prick as I liked on my own. I stroked him into a full erection. 

Something caught my eye. I lowered my gaze to his chest. 

Oh my God, I thought, when I saw his nipples. They've got to be at least an inch-and-a-half long! 

It was then I noticed his flat and firm belly; his sculpted chest. He almost had breasts like a woman. Not really, but they were rounded, and quite prominent; I'd seen chests like his before on men who worked-out, and concentrated on their abs. 

"Enough," he said suddenly, pushing my hand from his cock. "Sayid awaits us."

Zayd the Guard was still outside the door. He openly stared at our erections; he nodded his head and smiled. I don't know why, but I felt a warm glow from his approval. 

We followed behind him. The sheer material rubbing my prick was maddening enough, but then Dmitri placed a hand on my buttocks and gently stroked them. I figured he was just trying to ensure I was still hard when we reached Sayid...he needn't have worried about that.

Zayd turned left into a hallway leading us away from the room I had first encountered Sayid. We were going to a different room. 

I drank-in the ornate furnishings we passed along the way. Paintings I actually recognized-they can't be real, can they? They must be copies, right?

Zayd stopped, opened a door and motioned us inside.

A thick and rich smell of leather and money invaded my senses. I looked around at the vases, and sculptures and more fine paintings. The sofas and chairs and divans were all upholstered in dark brown leather. They smelled new-I loved the smell of leather.

I was still soaking-in the atmosphere when Dmitri took my hand. I suddenly saw Sayid sitting in a huge leather chair before us; he reminded me of a king sitting on a throne. 

Dmitri dropped to his knees pulling me down with him. He bowed and kissed the Drug Lord's left foot and said loudly, "SAYID." He then kissed his right foot and said "SAYID" again.

Dmitri sat upright and stared at me. I didn't know what to do; he gently pushed the back of my head and I finally understood what was expected of me. I bowed and kissed and said "SAYID" just as Dmitri had done.

When I looked up I saw a frown on Sayid's haggard face. He shouted something and Dmitri jumped up pulling me with him. Dmitri forced my arms high and had me clasp my hands behind my neck then he pushed my harem pants to the floor.

I stood a few feet in front of a Drug Lord, naked, with a raging boner. Even after two nights in caves with Sparkle-Eyes and his men, I'd never felt so helplessly embarrassed in my entire life.

Zayd the Guard made a move in my direction, and from the corner of my eye I was able to see him reach into a sheath on his robe and produce a small, stick-like object.

Zayd tugged on the stick and it suddenly grew into what appeared to be a four-foot long, formidable-looking cane. 

Just as my mind flashed-back a few days and remembered soldiers using similar canes on Eddy and Georgie, Zayd brought it down hard on my naked buttocks.

I shouted more with surprise than from pain. I tried to lower my hands to sooth my buttocks but Dmitri stopped me, scolded me, and placed them on my neck again.

"Do not move," he said softly in my ear. "...or be worse."

I heard a WHOOSH in the air behind me then-SMACK-the cane landed flush on my asscheeks. I yelped and fidgeted but remained in position.

SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK...

I didn't want to cry, but I couldn't help it. Tears began flowing down my face, first in a trickle, then as a river. I choked-back my sobs for as long as I could but was soon crying like a young boy. 

Sayid shouted something and I stared at his worn face. His thin lips curled into more of a sneer than smile and the cold-steel in his eyes made me feel small and insignificant; in those eyes I saw my new reality-I belonged to him and I damn-well better obey whatever command he gives me. 

His power over me was complete; he could do anything he wanted and no one would help me.

It ended as abruptly as it began. Dmitri pushed me to my knees and I enthusiastically kissed The Old Man's feet while saying "SAYID—SAYID..."

Dmitri was standing next to me; I saw his hands lift the hem of The Old Man's garment. A long, slender semi-erection was a foot from my face. I buried my face in the Old Man's crotch as quickly as possible.

I caressed the shriveled flesh of his scrotum, and fondled his shrunken balls. I stroked and kissed and licked his banana-shaped, semi-hard-on. I used everything I had learned up to this point to coax him into a full-erection but it seemed useless; his cock remained at half-staff.

I licked and kissed up-and-down his bent shaft; my tongue tantalized the soft skin on the underside of his cock, nothing. It was becoming frustrating. No matter what I did his damn cock just wouldn't get fully hard.

The Old Man was sitting back on his 'throne,' so when I felt a hand on the back of my head I knew it was Dmitri.

"SUCK COCK," he said.

I opened my lips and lowered my head until several inches were inside my mouth. I immediately went to work to please Sayid. 

A copious amount of pre-cum had already leaked from his slit; I guessed he'd gotten aroused watching my caning. I licked at his knob, tasting The Old Man's fluids for the first time: slightly bitter, not too terribly awful.

I found my rhythm: my head bobbing up-and-down his upper shaft; my hand stroking the lower half of his cock while my other hand massaged and gently kneaded his tiny balls. 

The Old Man relaxed and grunted his satisfaction. I sucked him a long time. My jaws ached; after two-days of having large, Taliban cocks shoved in-and-out of my widely stretched lips, my jaws were finally tired and sore.

His lower body began moving; ever-so-slightly, but he definitely was showing signs of an impending climax. It gave me hope and re-energized me. I began sucking like a mad-man; furiously bobbing my head up-and-down his cock. 

My hand had found the pressure on his cock he seemed to enjoy and it moved faster than a piston.

His shrunken balls noticeably expanded in my hand. I tickled his cock-slit with my tongue and methodically stroked him to orgasm. His body wildly jerked and spasmed, but his cock only shot three small loads of cum into my mouth.

When he came to rest, I made sure I thoroughly cleaned any liquid remnants from his rapidly deflating penis. 

An inexplicable wave of sadness and self-pity washed-over me. I wanted to cry.

Is this how I was going to spend the rest of my life? On my knees, between the legs of a decrepit old man, sucking the shriveled flesh of his half-hard cock until his hamster-balls spit driblets of greasy-cum into my mouth?

Before Dmitri helped me to my feet, he had me kiss The Old Man's feet again and say "SAYID—SAYID" as if I was thanking him for the privilege of sucking his cock and swallowing his cum. He then motioned for me to stand near Zayd the Guard.

I watched Dmitri fall to his knees and kiss the Old Man's feet. Then he looked directly at The Drug Lord and began speaking to him. He seemed to be making some sort of impassioned plea to The Old Man. 

He was explaining something to him, and even though I couldn't understand a word he was saying, his argument sounded eloquent and persuasive.

When he finished speaking, he waited on his knees with his head bowed for The Old Man's reply.

I wondered if The Old Man would explode in a violent rage over Dmitri's impudence; I was certain The Old Man was not accustomed to his long-time slave-boy speaking to him in that tone of voice.

I watched as a curious expression formed on his face. I could see the puzzled look in his eyes; he was surprised by Dmitri's boldness, but he had allowed him to speak.

Suddenly, a thin smile curled his lips. His eyes cleared and I knew he had reached a decision. He leaned forward, bent over and gently stroked Dmitri's face. He patted his head. He spoke softly; his answer was short. The Old Man said something to Zayd the Guard and I saw him nod his head.

We all remained quiet and still as The Old Man stood from his throne and left the room.

Dmitri slowly rose to his feet and came to me. He had tears in his eyes and he was trembling. 

"My pretty-boy-wonderful news," he said to me, "...Sayid has said 'Yes'...he allow me to train you...I teach you your duties here..."

I was confused; I figured it would be his responsibility to 'train' me anyway.

He continued: "...in return, Sayid has agreed I use you for my pleasure...you will be my girl-you must obey me same as him..."

He pointed to the sheath where Zayd the Guard carried the cane and added, "...or else!"

I felt strangely disappointed. What I had really wanted was for Dmitri to be my ally; my confidant, my friend. Someone I could speak freely with; my shelter from the storm that surrounded us. Now he was going to be just another man to please.

Oh well, I thought. What difference does it make now if there is one more cock to suck; one more pair of balls to kiss and lick?

We waited another thirty-seconds then Dmitri took my hand in his and said "Come, padrooga" and led me down the same hallway Sayid had disappeared thru. 

We had walked some distance when he squeezed my hand. It reminded me of walking with my girlfriend, Rebecca, hand-in-hand, and she would show her affection by squeezing my hand. 

I looked at Dmitri and saw a teardrop roll down his cheek. His eyes, which had seemed listless and dull when we first met, now appeared to sparkle with life. I saw a glow on his face I hadn't seen before. 

We suddenly stopped before a door. Dmitri said something to Zayd, it sounded like a command, and I watched Zayd nod and disappear back down the hallway. Dmitri opened the door and gently pushed me inside. 

Once the door closed behind us, Dmitri took me in his arms. He began to softly cry. He stroked my face and gazed deep into my startled eyes. I became frightened. I didn't understand why he was acting like this.

He pulled me close to him and hugged me. I instinctively threw my arms around him and hugged him, too. His body was gently shaking from his choking sobs. I stroked the back of his head; I wanted to comfort him; to ease whatever pain was causing him to cry.

"W-What's wrong?" I stuttered. "Are you alright?"

His hands stroked my face; we were inches apart. I felt helpless watching the tears flow down his cheeks. I didn't know what to do.

He spoke softly while staring into my eyes.

"I never feel like this in life...it is strange-very, very strange...is this what 'happy' feels like?"

My heart instantly melted. I pulled his face to mine and pressed my lips to his; he was tentative, unsure of himself. I kissed him; I worked my lips on his; he was clumsy.

OH MY GOD-it suddenly occurred to me he didn't know how to kiss. 

He must have read my reaction; he pulled away from me like he was ashamed.

"I never kiss before..." he said with heart-wrenching sadness.

"Never?" I asked. "What about Sayid?"

He slowly shook his head. 

I said, "Do what I do..." and pulled his face to mine once again. It didn't take long for him to learn; he became a good kisser in a short time. 

When I pushed my tongue into his mouth he greedily sucked at it. Soon, we were gasping for air and when we broke-off our kiss the widest smile I'd ever seen formed on his handsome face. I couldn't help but smile, too.

I became aware of my throbbing erection straining hard against the harem pants. My pre-cum soaked the front of the sheer, pink material. 

We were standing two-feet from his large bed.

What an odd place for a bed, I thought. It was just inside the door, the first thing anyone would see when they entered the room. I could only think it was meant to make it easier on The Old Man when he came to 'visit' Dmitri.

There was a tall partition separating the bed from the rest of the room. On the right I saw a door and guessed it led to the bathroom. 

Dmitri took my hand and pulled me towards the bed. He yanked-back the blankets exposing rich, burgundy silken sheets.

We lie on our sides, close enough so I could feel his hard cock press against my belly; our heads resting comfortably on luxuriously soft pillows. 

We kissed. Long, lingering kisses of passion. Now that he knew how to kiss, it seemed he couldn't get enough of it.

We reached for each other's cocks at the same time and laughed at the coincidence.

Oh God, how I loved the combination of his warm hand caressing me thru the sheer fabric of the pants. I knew he loved it too by his wriggling hips and soft exclamations of pleasure.

When his fingers pulled at the lace waistband of the pants, I helped him by lifting my hips and he peeled them down and off my legs. I did the same for him. 

He surprised me by making a move to kneel between my legs; I stopped him; I reversed my body on the bed until we were in the classic sixty-nine position. He murmured his approval. 

His erection was slightly longer than mine, but much smaller than the Taliban cocks I had grown accustomed to; it was a joy being able to take his entire length into my mouth. 

I almost jumped out of my skin when his lips slid all the way down my pole and his face pressed against my hairless pubic area. His tongue was non-stop on my pulsating flesh. I couldn't believe the electrical-like sensations he was giving me.

My girlfriend, Rebecca, wasn't very good at sucking my prick; she meant well, and tried hard, but she just didn't have the knack for it.

Dmitri, on the other hand-OH MY GOD-his lips and tongue glided and danced over my flesh like a prima ballerina; his hands stroked, pinched and kneaded my flesh in all the right places.

He was so good I decided to abandon what I'd learned the past couple nights with the soldiers and just emulate him. I did to him whatever he did to me. He seemed pleased by my efforts; imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

We were lost in a symphony of lips and tongues and softly caressing hands. His balls were heavy in my hand, and I lovingly massaged and fondled them. When he suddenly pressed a finger to my anus I did the same for him. 

He probed my opening and found it very tight; my hips lurched and bucked as his finger massaged the walls of my hole. 

I was surprised how easily my finger slid into his rectum; I shouldn't have been-after years of taking Sayid's cock back there, his passage-way was naturally opened far wider than mine.

Our hips gyrated obscenely on the silken sheet; our groans and cries of pleasure increased in volume. Dmitri fully concentrated on my cock; furiously stroking and sucking; I did the same for him.

I felt his balls contract in my hand and prepared myself for what I expected to be a twenty-seven year build-up of sperm and semen. I imagined all his orgasms thru the years had been by his own hand; I wanted him to remember this climax for a long time.

My cock in his mouth muffled his cries of joy. In fact, the vibration of his cries, and the intense heat from his breath pushed me over the edge, as well.

Our bodies flailed about the bed like fish out of water. Our lips clung to each other's exploding cocks. Slurping and gulping noises filled the room. We greedily swallowed mouthfuls of cum while our hands continued coaxing more and more from our shafts and balls. 

And then it was over. I gasped for air and heard him doing the same. For a brief second I didn't know where I was or what had happened. 




Taliban Concubine Ch. 03



The same phrase repeated itself over-and-over in my head.

OH-MY-GOD-OH-MY-GOD-OH-MY-GOD-OH-MY-GOD...

I felt a sweet, delicious aching sensation in my balls. I was hoping Dmitri was feeling it, too. He shifted on the bed and when I saw the wide-eyed wonderment on his face I knew he was. 

It was the first time I experienced overwhelming joy and contentment at providing a man with pleasure. It would not be the last.

He drew my face to his and kissed me. When he pushed his cum-slickened tongue into my mouth and found mine, our juices co-mingled; we sucked at each other's tongues.

He held me close; I rested my head on his chest. I felt his heartbeat; my head rose and fell with every breath he took.

"My padrooga," he said softly. "That was best ever...thank you."

I kissed the cleft between his breasts. He stroked my hair. 

I was almost asleep when a pounding on the door startled me. 

"It be Zayd with food," said Dmitri.

We slowly rose; he handed me my pink pants and I slid them on. 

I almost laughed-why bother wearing these? They don't hide anything.

Dmitri opened the door and Zayd pushed a cart into the room. I could smell the food and was overtaken by a ravenous hunger. Zayd backed away from the cart. I watched puzzled as Dmitri was about to go to his knees; Zayd stopped him.

A smile formed on the guard's mouth as he pointed at me. Dmitri took my hand and led me before Zayd. He whispered in my ear:

"To eat-you must suck...sooner he shoots-sooner you eat!"

Zayd pulled-up his robe until his large erection came into view. 

Geez, I thought. Are all Afghani men hung like horses?

I went to my knees. I was starving and the food smelled so good I heeded Dmitri's advice-I gave Zayd's cock my full attention. I worked quickly, but effectively; I guessed it took ten-minutes before I was gulping down his thick cum. 

With Zayd gone, Dmitri pushed the food cart into the main living quarters. It was very similar to mine; lush and expensive furnishings; very comfortable leather chairs, a sofa and love seat.

I was pleasantly surprised by the food. At the base camp, we ate American food which was bland, if not tasteless. Dmitri pointed to various dishes and explained what they were. 

We had lamb; there was beef; there a mixture of fried onions with raisins, carrots and nuts; there was rice with delicious spices and seasonings. The food was outstanding.

"Is the food always this good?" I asked Dmitri.

Dmitri smiled and nodded his head. "Yes...we eat what Sayid eats..."

Afterwards, Dmitri rolled the empty food cart into the hallway; he led me to the toilet in the bathroom. 

He lowered my pants, took my penis in his fingers and aimed it at the bowl. I released a torrent of piss. He shook the last drop from the head then replaced my pants.

He made a motion and I did the same for him. I guessed one of my duties would be to hold men's cocks while they peed. Although completely foreign to me, I didn't find it overly offensive.

We yawned at the same time. The food and the excitement of the day had worn me out. Hand-in-hand we walked to the bed. I followed his lead and stripped-off my harem pants. 

We resumed our positions: he on his back, with my head resting on his chest. His arm felt warm and protective around me.

I had so many questions, but wasn't sure if it was proper to talk about personal matters. He was my only friend now, and I wanted to learn more about him.

"Dmitri?" I said in a small voice.

"Yes, my padrooga?"

"Sayid has never kissed you?"

"No-not allowed."

"Do you have sex with him every day?"

"Mostly, yes."

"I don't mean to pry into your life-I'm just curious, that's all."

"It okay..."

"Is the sex always the same?"

He sighed and said, "Yes, always same...sometime suck him-sometime he fuck me..."

"Do you hug him? Does he hold you?"

I thought I heard his voice catch; a soft sob escaped from his throat.

"No...not allowed...he never touch me."'

Tears moistened my eyes. That was the saddest thing I'd ever heard- 'He never touch me!' 

His arm tightened its grip on me; I kissed his chest. Images of him living here twenty-seven-years flooded my mind.

Day-after-day-week-after-week-month-after-month-year-after-year-the only human contact he had was impersonal and perfunctory sex. No holding-no kissing-no intimate touching other than satisfying the lust of a man who held the power of life or death over his head every single day.

How could he have survived like this all these years? The loneliness he must have felt every hour of every day...the brutal, gut-wrenching, excruciatingly-heartbreaking loneliness he endured for so many years.

A cold chill ran up-and-down my spine just thinking about it. I kissed his chest; my lips lingering on his smooth flesh.

"Padrooga..." he said; then stopped.

"Yes?" I answered.

"I feel bad for you-I very sorry you prisoner here, but..."

I waited for him to finish; there was only silence.

"But, what?" I finally asked him.

I heard a catch in his voice. Then he spoke in perfect English.

"I am glad you are here-this is the happiest day of my entire life!"

I was awake long after he drifted-off to sleep. My mind was whirling; desperately trying to picture myself in his position. I couldn't even imagine what he'd been thru-how his heart must have ached for companionship every single day.

If it had been me, I would have died of loneliness long ago.

I woke with a start-my heart racing. I was in total darkness-where the hell am I?

I felt around the big bed for Dmitri but I was alone. I became paralyzed with fear-I couldn't move. I had to piss in the worse way but couldn't make myself climb out of bed.

When I heard the door creak open, I held my breath. 

Oh my God, I thought. Please let it be Dmitri!

I heard the shuffling of feet on the carpet then the room became awash in light. A solitary figure stood ominously over the bed staring down at me. I cleared the sleep out of my eyes.

"Where have you been?" I asked Dmitri.

"Pleasing Sayid," Dmitri answered. "He strongest in morning-give me good fuck today!"

Yes, I could see that. Dmitri wore white pants and the entire crotch area was saturated and stained with what had to be his own sperm and semen. 

He saw where I was looking and happily said, "I cum good when he fucks me in morning!"

I wasn't accustomed to such frank and honest talk; I blushed a deep red. He didn't seem to notice.

"You pee yet?" he asked.

An odd question for one man to ask another. I vigorously shook my head.

"Go," he said, pointing to the bathroom.

Just as I began pissing, I heard a pounding on the door. I recognized the sound of the food cart being wheeled into the room; there were muffled voices then silence.

I finished my business and as I entered the room I saw Dmitri on his knees before Zayd.

Without giving it a thought, I kneeled beside my friend. His eyes lit-up when he sensed my presence. He pulled his head away from Zayd's cock and offered it to me. I gladly took it in my mouth and proceeded to give Zayd an orgasm that made him weak in the knees.

Breakfast was scrumptious. If nothing else, I was definitely going to like the food here.

"I could really use a shower," I said after we ate.

"Not now-we do exercise first," said Dmitri.

First, we stripped-off our pants. "Easier this way..." he explained.

He then demonstrated what my daily routine would be as long as I lived here.

Fifty sit-ups followed by fifty push-ups. 

"We do morning and afternoon," he said.

That answered my question as to how Dmitri had maintained a hard, firm belly and chest.

I wasn't out of shape, but my body was slightly soft and flabby; not accustomed to a daily exercise regimen. I struggled mightily to complete my 'workout.' 

"No worry-take time to build-up to fifty," he said. "Time is endless here..."

I didn't know him well enough to figure out if his remark was honest, or his attempt at humor.

The room was heating-up from the mid-morning sun; our bodies were covered in a fine film of perspiration. I was still lying on my belly after the push-ups, catching my breath. 

"Now do we get to shower?" I asked.

I felt his hand begin to stroke my back; softly, slowly, his hand massaged my buttocks. He squeezed one cheek then the other. 

"No..." he replied breathlessly

He now ran both hands over my body. I wondered what he was going to do. 

"Smooth..." I heard him say above me. "...skin soft like girl..."

His hands felt wonderful on my heated flesh. I began to grind my semi-hard prick against the rich carpeting. He chuckled then turned me over on my back. He climbed on top of me, his knees forcing my legs wide apart; he lowered his beautiful face and kissed me.

I kissed him back and placed my arms on his shoulders. Our kisses were soft, unhurried. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his back and moved my hard prick against his belly. I loved the look of wonder in his eyes. 

He reached down, took hold of his hard cock, and ran the glans between my buttocks. He massaged the area from my perineum to my anus with his velvety cockhead.

When his glans paused at my anus, gently pressing on it, I gasped and squirmed against his intense heat.

"Yesss..." I said, my breath catching in my throat. "I want you to be the first..."

I kneaded his shoulders and stared into his passion-filled eyes.

"Fuck me, Dmitri-I want to feel you inside me."

He kissed me then said, "No-not allowed...you belong to Amir-he fuck you first...once he breaks you in-I ask permission to fuck you, too."

"Amir? Who is Amir?" I asked.

"Amir is Sayid's son...Sayid give you to son as gift...you belong to Amir..."

His words made me shiver. I was going to be given to someone as a 'gift'? 

I was now 'property', not a human being. I 'belong to Amir' is the same as saying 'Amir will own me-I will be his slave.' My rights and privileges as a human being were now gone forever. 

I don't know why this surprised me; I suspected I'd 'belong' to someone; I guess hearing the actual words is what startled me.

Dmitri stroked my face as he stared at me with concern.

"No worry," he said softly, "...Amir kind man-he treat you nice...he be good Sayid to you..."

Now I was confused. I said, "Sayid? There's already a 'Sayid.'"

Dmitri smiled and said, "'Sayid' mean 'Master'...Amir be your Master."

Dmitri shifted his weight; I was deep in thought. 

So when I kissed The Old Man's feet, and sucked his cock, I was saying 'Sayid' to him...I'd been calling him 'Master' without realizing it. That makes sense, I guess.

I became aware of Dmitri squatting over my hard prick, positioning the glans at his back entrance. 

He gazed into my eyes and said, "I give you good fuck."

Before I could say anything, he pushed his hips downward and I felt the walls of his asshole gripping the sensitive flesh of my hard cock. 

"OOhhhhh," I groaned and my eyes rolled back in my head. So this is what it felt like to have my cock inside someone-it was wonderful!

Dmitri slowly raised and lowered himself on my prick in a steady rhythm as he smiled down at me, studying my every reaction. 

"OH GOD..." I cried out when his hole squeezed and milked my cock. 

"I teach you to please Amir with asshole," he said; obviously referring to the clenching and unclenching of the walls of his rectum on my prick. 

I watched Dmitri concentrating on his gyrations, and heard soft grunts escape his lips each time he tightened himself and the walls of his asshole massaged my prick like a tight-fitting velvet glove. 

I watched Dmitri's hard cock rising and falling and reached out to hold it; to stroke it. He pushed my hand away.

"Not now..." is all he said. 

The delicious tightness of his asshole gave me sensations I'd never felt before. I wanted the fucking to go on forever...but the excitement was too much. 

I began wriggling my hips; a steady groan coming from deep within me. Dmitri sensed my impending climax and vigorously fucked himself up-and-down my throbbing prick.

I couldn't hold back any longer: "OOOhhhhhhh...yesssssss...Oh-God-Oh-God-OH-GOD-OH-GOD...YES-YES-YES-YESSSSSSSSSSS..."

I flailed about the floor completely at the mercy of my mind-blowing ejaculations. My head exploded with a force I'd never known. I emptied myself into his sucking asshole; the greedy walls of his rectum milked every last drop of cum out of my swollen balls. I heaved and panted and gasped to get air into my pounding chest.

Life is so weird, I thought. All along I figured I'd lose my virginity to my sweet Rebecca on our wedding night, instead, my first fuck is in a Drug Lord's house in Afghanistan inside the asshole of an old, Russian prisoner-of-war. Truth is indeed stranger than fiction. 

Dmitri climbed off my body; I was unable to move. He lay down beside me and stroked and kissed my face. When I opened my eyes he was smiling at me.

"That how you fuck for Amir...you please Master he keep you alive and not hurt you."

He suddenly went to his hands and knees. He positioned himself so his cock and balls were directly above my face. He then placed a pillow beneath my head, tilting my face forward until his hard-on was touching my lips.

"Suck cock, my padrooga," he said in a commanding voice. 

"Dmitri," I said before drawing his manhood into my mouth, "...what does 'padrooga' mean?"

He sighed and said: "It mean 'girlfriend'...now hurry, my padrooga-suck cock!"

I took him into my mouth thinking there could be worse things here than being his 'padrooga.'

Dmitri taught me his routine. Bathe in the tub, soaking in the 'bubble-bath' to soften our skin and keep us hairless; then stand beneath the showerhead to rinse ourselves clean.

We dried ourselves and I watched him apply very light dabs of mascara and eye shadow; that surprised me; I hadn't even noticed he was wearing women's makeup. He fixed his hair in a ponytail and said I'd be doing the same when mine was long enough. 

He slipped into turquoise-colored harem pants and gave me yellow to wear. To my consternation, my prick instantly became semi-erect; I was ashamed to admit I'd been looking forward to feeling the sheer material on my flesh. The sensations it gave me were delightful.

"I teach you to walk," he said; then demonstrated what was expected of me. 

To my horror, I watched him walk away from me: his hips swaying, rolling like a girl; his buttocks visibly clenching and unclenching. He looked quite 'dainty', yet at the same time like a wanton slut.

He motioned to me to do the same. I vigorously shook my head and said, "I can't do that!" 

I was becoming too feminine as it was already; for my own sanity, I wanted to retain some semblance of masculinity.

Dmitri sadly shook his head. He went to the wall beside the bed where a wooden paddle hung by a leather strap; I hadn't seen it there before. He sat on the edge of the bed and motioned me to him.

My God, is he going to spank me? I wondered.

When I was close, he pushed down my pants, grabbed me around the waist, and positioned me across his lap.

"Dmitri, no, please..." I protested.

"You must obey," he said sternly, "or life be very, very hard for you here."

The flesh on my buttocks were still sore from yesterday's caning so when he brought the paddle down on them the stinging pain was excruciating. I cried out.

"I give you only six today-it be good for you-you learn to obey."

I was crying after the third blow from the heavy paddle. When he was done, I was sobbing like a school-girl.

"Now-walk!" he commanded.

For the next hour he taught me how to walk like a woman; my burning asscheeks against the smooth fabric of the pants a constant reminder of my servitude. 

By the time Zayd wheeled in our lunch, I had mastered the art of rolling my hips and buttocks. He whistled derisively and laughed-my embarrassment was complete.

After lunch it was time to exercise. My painful buttocks encouraged me to finish my sit-ups as quickly as possible.

We lay on the bed; Dmitri on his back, me on my side with my head resting on his chest. I asked him about growing-up in Russia. He seemed to enjoy talking. I lay there listening to him, thinking about all his years in this house with no one to talk with-no one who would listen.

We dozed-off. Sometime later we were awakened by Zayd. 

There was no clock in the room; it bothered me I didn't know what time it was. Then it occurred to me, "What difference does it make? Time is only relevant when you have something planned, someplace to go." I had neither.

Zayd followed us down the hallway. I was sure he was watching my new 'walk,' the gyrations of my buttocks inside the clinging material of the harem pants. 

Sure enough, he said something to Dmitri and Dmitri told me: "He like your ass-he say you sexy."

The compliment made me blush, but strangely, a surge of pride rushed thru my veins; a man found me attractive and desirable, and it made me feel good. 

I recognized the large room from the day before, The Old Man was already seated on his throne. We stood ten-feet in front of him; he gave orders to Zayd.

Seemingly out of nowhere, I heard music begin playing. I saw Zayd standing beside what appeared to be a very old boom-box, he must have inserted a disk or tape.

Sayid clapped his hands twice, and Dmitri immediately began to gyrate and dance to the music. 

Yesterday, I had thought the sight of an older guy in harem pants was the most ludicrous thing I'd ever seen-I was wrong-the sight of him in harem pants, with an erection, dancing and moving with the music was now the most ludicrous thing I'd ever seen.

Sayid barked an order and Dmitri turned to me and said "You dance, too."

I hesitated, but when I saw the warning in Dmitri's eyes, I began moving my body to the music. I watched him, and tried to copy his moves. It was difficult; there didn't appear to be any rhyme-or-reason to his movements. I did the best I could.

Just when I thought I had become good at it, The Old Man clapped his hands twice and the music stopped. Suddenly, I heard the shuffling of feet behind us. I turned and looked.

OH MY GOD-there stood Eddy and Georgie! My heart leapt with joy. They were still alive!

I became aware of their nudity. It appeared their hands were tied behind their backs. Except for some minor bruises, they appeared in good health. It looked as though they were fresh-scrubbed; I guessed the soldiers cleaned them at the stream we'd stopped beside the day before.

Then I saw their eyes and shivered. They were glazed-over, listless; I could see looks of deep shock in their retinas. My emotions went from jubilation to heartbreak in a matter of seconds. I couldn't begin to fathom the horror they'd experienced since I last saw them.

The Old Man shouted something and Dmitri began pushing at my shoulders. I went to my knees before The Old Man. I knew immediately he wanted to humiliate me in front of my friends. I also knew he would succeed.

The Old Man lifted his robe above his waist, and there for everyone to see was his shriveled nut-sack and semi-hard cock. He spread his legs wide apart and motioned to me.

I remembered the routine from the day before. I kissed first his left foot and said "SAYID" loud enough for everyone to hear, then repeated that with his right foot.

His bony hand lifted his scrotum; he offered me his balls. I buried my face between his scrawny thighs; I took his scrotum in my hand and began licking and kissing his balls. 

It may have been my imagination, but I swore I heard Eddy and Georgie groan with disappointment.

I sucked each nut into my mouth and bathed them with my tongue. Then I managed to get his entire scrotum inside my mouth; my tongue never resting.




Taliban Concubine Ch. 03



He tapped my head; he was now offering me his cock.

For the briefest of moments I considered defying him; showing my friends all was not lost; that there was hope for rescue; that we could resist these bastards and maintain a shred of personal dignity.

Who was I trying to fool? I didn't believe any of those things. The only thing defying Sayid would get me is a sound thrashing, or worse.

I eagerly took hold of his offering and sucked it into my mouth. I performed eagerly and with enthusiasm in case he'd noticed my nanosecond of resistance.

Once again, he never did get fully hard, and when he finally managed to climax it was as weak and unimpressive as the day before. I doubted Dmitri's claim of last night that Sayid had given him a good fucking-how was that possible?

I once again kissed his feet and paid tribute to him. I felt only slightly bad that Eddy and Georgie had witnessed my capitulation to The Drug Lord, but after what they had been through, I was sure they understood.

I remained bowed before Sayid, staring at his feet. He said something to Dmitri and, while still on my knees, I was led to where my friends were standing. They both had erections. I wondered if their bodies were still feeling the effects of the green paste.

Dmitri positioned me in front of Georgie's short, fat cock and in a commanding voice he said to me, "SUCK."

If Sayid's game was to complete my humiliation by forcing me to service my friend's cocks, he was mistaken. The three of us were past the point of no return; our natural inhibitions and cultural taboos regarding male-male sex had long been shattered by the sexual demands of the soldiers. 

I no longer experienced shame, guilt or embarrassment by holding and caressing a hard penis; and when I opened my lips wide to take his cock into my mouth, I felt lust and desire-not humiliation. 

On the contrary, a surge of exhilaration rushed thru my veins as I gripped Georgie's prick, and sucked the glans deep into my mouth. I felt nothing but a powerful, overwhelming urge to pleasure my friends; to give them both the much needed sexual satisfaction I was sure they were craving.

It took less than five-minutes to make Georgie cry-out; for his body to shudder and shake as I forcefully sucked cum out of his balls. I was delighted to swallow five-six mouthfuls of jizz as I listened to his cries of joy. I even held his legs steady when his knees began to buckle. 

As Georgie's flaccid penis slipped from my lips, I licked-up cum that had escaped my mouth. Then, without being told, I shuffled on my knees from Georgie to Eddy. 

I stared at his long and thick member and felt my balls begin to ache. I found myself intoxicated by the sight of his cock, and the manly aroma emanating from his crotch. My head swooned; I had to take a deep gulp of fresh air to steady myself. 

Eddy's cock presented more of a challenge. My jaws had been trained to open wider than normal, but Eddy was actually larger than any of the Taliban soldiers, and when I was finally able to accommodate his entire glans, I felt a glowing pride and deep satisfaction. 

Except for the loud slurping and sucking noises I made, there was total silence in the room. I was positive everyone was watching with awe and amazement as I worked on Eddy's big cock.

I became all-to-aware of the growing urgency I experienced from my own cock and balls.

Pre-cum had leaked from my slit when I was sucking Georgie, but now, the front of my harem pants was saturated with it. My cock, straining against the smooth and sleek fabric, sent electric jolts thru-out my body. I began squirming, and lewdly rotating and grinding my hips so my cockhead would press harder-and-harder against the sheer material.

I heard the chuckles of the men watching my shameful performance, but I didn't care. All that mattered was Eddy's cock in my mouth, and rubbing my own dick on the soft and smooth material of the pants.

I marveled at the size of Eddy's balls; my hand was too small to hold them both. I gently massaged them as I sucked. My hand could not encircle his girth as I stroked and squeezed his powerful shaft.

My hips were now thrusting and wildly gyrating; the sensations on my cock shot straight to my brain; nothing mattered except getting Eddy to shoot in my mouth. 

I worked in a frenzy of depraved lust; I was obsessed with making him cum. Finally, his huge balls contracted, a guttural, animal-like groan escaped from his gaping mouth, and his big cock swelled, stretching my lips even wider.

Suddenly, the first cannon-shot of cum filled my mouth; I was so caught up in Eddy's excitement I responded with a climax of my own. 

My hips and thighs shook and contorted with delicious spasms of ecstasy as cum erupted from my balls; I couldn't help myself; I reached down, grasped my cock and rubbed the sheer material of the pants back-and-forth on my throbbing shaft. 

I wanted to cry out, to let the world know I was cumming but I had to concentrate on swallowing Eddy's semen in order not to choke or drown; my lower body jerked and bucked as the delicious feel of the harem pants seemed to coax more semen from my balls than normal. 

We must have presented to the Taliban soldiers a spectacle of western decadence; two weak-willed American boys losing control of themselves before the eyes of their captors, but at that moment, neither me nor Eddy gave a damn what the Taliban thought of us. 

Our mind-numbing orgasms were a form of victory over them. They could threaten us with violence and death, but they could never strip us of our uniquely American spirit.

I lapped up the last strands of semen from Eddy's cock-slit. His dick shriveled to normal size and I let it slip from between my lips. I heard him gasping for air above me. 

I was proud and happy that I could give my friends pleasure. I was able to temporarily erase their memories of all they had been thru, and all that was sure to follow.

Sayid clapped his hands together and shouted something to Zayd and Dmitri. He sounded angry. 

The two men lifted my arms until I was standing. I felt Dmitri's hot breath in my ear.

"Sayid not give you permission to climax...you be punished for defying him," whispered my Russian lover, as he choked-back a sob.

I panicked and struggled with the men holding me. I was no match for their strength.

They led me to a corner where two over-head circular rings were dangling from the ceiling. I'd seen them the day before and wondered about their purpose.

My wrists were attached to the rings above my head, and suddenly the rings were raised until I was forced to stand just on my toes. It was a very precarious position, and I soon discovered how helpless I was trying to balance myself on my toes.

I felt someone's hands grasp the lace waistband of my pants and push them down to the floor. In the process, a gentle hand reached between my thighs and lightly squeezed and rubbed my balls; I guessed Dmitri was trying to reassure me everything would be alright.

I figured Zayd would slap my bare ass with the cane; maybe six or seven strokes for the benefit of Georgie and Eddy.

The moment I heard the whooshing noise I knew I was in big trouble: it was most definitely not the cane.

I cried-out in both shock and pain. Zayd was using an actual whip on me. Tears filled my eyes and my body shook and trembled with fear. I knew this was going to be very, very bad.

Dmitri appeared before me; he stroked my face as he stared into my watery eyes.

"Say nothing-you may cry...but say no words...Padrooga, I so very, very sorry-I lied to you—Sayid not give me permission to make love with you—he forbid it-he knows what we did-I so, so sorry-I love you, Padrooga!." 

The pain from the whipping was like nothing I'd ever experienced in my young life. 

I was able to take four stokes of the whip with only tiny yelps and muted expressions of discomfort. When the leather kissed my flesh for the fifth time I began softly crying. By the time the seventh stroke emblazoned my tender skin, I began sobbing, and after that my tears were flowing down my cheeks non-stop and I cried like a baby.

Sayid shouted and the whipping stopped. My wrists were released and I was able to plant my feet on the floor. My knees buckled but someone held me upright. 

I decided as soon as I was able, I would crawl to Sayid on my hands and knees and kiss his feet for as long as necessary. He was my Taliban Master and I would do whatever it took to convince him I would be his obedient American prisoner.

Instead of releasing me, I was led to an apparatus where they tied me face-down, pushed my legs wide apart, and secured them to metal bars.

In my new position, I was acutely aware of being bent-over with my legs so far apart my buttocks were pulled open and I could feel cool air on my exposed anus. My groggy-mind could not comprehend the purpose of this until I heard another WHOOSH fill the air behind me.

I cried-out in surprise as what felt like a hundred thin strands of barbed material came down hard on the back of my thigh. It felt like this new whip had torn open a hundred paper-cuts on the sensitive flesh of my thighs.

The second stroke of the new whip landed precisely next to the first one. I coughed and choked on my sobs as another hundred stinging 'paper-cuts' opened my tender flesh.

Zayd worked first on the back of my left thigh then applied his cruel whip to my right thigh expertly landing the thin, coarse straps just inches from the previous blow; an extremely slow torture.

The final two strokes were the worst. He aimed the strands of the whip between my open buttocks. I screamed and fought against my bonds; I desperately tried to wriggle and move my hips out of harm's way, but my lower body would not move.

The last stroke opened tiny cuts on my perineum and very close to my anus, as well. I blacked-out; the next thing I knew someone was forcing a small open jar below my nose. The foul-smelling aroma from the jar caused my eyes to fly open and I shook the cobwebs from my head.

Suddenly, someone was close to my head; whispering broken English in my ear, it was Zayd.

"Sayid very angry you steal Dmitri from him...you lucky he allow you to live..."

My God! What on earth was he talking about? We had one night of passion—that was it! Sayid is a madman-he must be insane!

Suddenly my bonds were released, I'd never felt such relief. I would gladly grovel and humiliate myself before everyone's eyes, I would make amends with Sayid, and assure him Dmitri was loyal to him—not me, but no, I felt hands roll me over and re-fasten the restraints until I was spread-eagle on my back.

Zayd went to work on the front of my so-far unblemished inner thighs. By the time he was done they were covered with hundreds of tiny cuts, and I was near unconsciousness again. Someone shoved the smelling-salts below my nose until I was fully awake.

The bonds holding my legs apart were unfastened and I sighed a huge breath of relief. 

Sayid shouted and suddenly Georgie and Eddy were on either side of me. The restraints had been removed from their arms and they each took hold of one of my legs, forced me to lay further on my back, then stretched my legs upwards and outwards until I thought I'd snap in two. My entire crotch was nakedly exposed and vulnerable. A blinding, terrifying fear shot thru my immobilized body.

A blood curdling scream escaped from deep inside me when the whip opened a hundred stinging cuts on my genitals. 

The whip came down again hard on my penis—I screamed one more time. When the whip viciously struck my scrotum I tried to scream but nothing came out. When it struck me again and cut open the flesh of my ball sac I passed-out.

My mind was drifting on a cloud somewhere far away. I could hear birds singing full, throaty-songs of contentment; children were playing; their high-pitched squeals of laughter and joy made me think of my own childhood.

I shifted on the hard mattress but the intense pain from my waist to my knees immediately shocked me into reality.

My eyes snapped open; the room was pitch-black save for a small crack in what appeared to be wooden shutters insufficiently covering a window to the outside world. 

The room was small, like a walled-in prison cell. Did they toss me in a medieval dungeon? 

I lay still, and yes indeed, I did hear birds singing and children playing.

I tossed and turned but there was no position I could achieve to escape the excruciating, stinging pain. My mouth uttered a constant stream of mewling cries and sobs.

I rolled to the edge of the bed and forced myself to sit-up. My buttocks felt as though a thousand bumble-bees had implanted their stingers in my soft flesh. . 

I planted my feet on the floor and tried to stand, but immediately fell backwards on the bed. 

Oh my God! The bottoms of my feet had the same paper-cut-like wounds as my thighs.

Sayid was very thorough; he had included the whipping of the bottoms of my feet in his diabolical torture of me.

I couldn't stand, sit or lay in any position without feeling Sayid's wrath.

Tears flowed down my face. I couldn't fathom why Sayid would think I had stolen Dmitri's affections from him. 

Yes, it was true I had strong feelings for Dmitri. He was helping me thru my transition from free, human being to Taliban captive. He taught me what I needed to learn in order to survive. 

And yes, he also taught me how to give a man pleasure; how to make me an invaluable, pleasure-giving boy to convince my captors to keep me alive.

And perhaps, sometime during our brief, heated time together, our souls merged into one and our affection turned into a passionate love. 

So, maybe Sayid was right. He must have sensed something was different with Dmitri.

It had to have been yesterday morning when Dmitri pleasured him. After so many years together, lovers know each other's slightest change of moods. Sayid is more perceptive and sensitive than Dmitri gave him credit. Sayid noticed a change in his concubine and blamed me for it. 

Maybe it became obvious to him that Dmitri and I were in love. Maybe I had indeed, stolen Dmitri's affections from Sayid. I would have to rectify the matter as soon as possible with Sayid.

I needed to relieve my bladder and bowels in the worst way. In the thin light from the crack in the shutters, I saw nothing that could serve as a toilet. I braced myself and stood on my sore feet, stinging pain shot from my feet to my head. I concentrated hard on shutting-out the discomfort. 

I took careful steps to a darkened corner. There was a faint smell of urine. I squinted in the dim light and saw a hole in the concrete floor. It was round, maybe two-feet in diameter. 

When I took hold of my penis and aimed it at the hole, I flinched from the pain and remembered how the whip had cut into my most tender of flesh. I let loose a torrent of piss and heard it splash several feet below the surface of the floor.

Well, I thought, this will be fine for urinating, but what do I do about the other? Do they expect me to sit over the hole?

I heard the creaking of the door and someone enter the room as I relieved myself. Then I heard Zayd's voice.

"You sleep long time...I bring food..."

"Zayd...where's the toilet-I really have to use a toilet!"

He laughed and said, "You at toilet-open legs wide and squat over hole like woman you are now..."

I couldn't protest his insult. He was right. I was now more like a woman than a man. Besides, the gnawing ache in my belly told me there wasn't much time. I squatted over the hole and emptied myself.

"Use pomegranate leaves to clean..." he said.

I hadn't seen them in the near-darkness, but to the left of where I was squatting was a pile of soft leaves. They weren't large leaves; it would require a handful of them to wipe myself.

I never felt so primitive. Squatting over a hole in the ground—crapping into the hole-and wiping myself with leaves. It brought to mind the complexities of human existence before the age of modern conveniences.

"Come to me on knees," he said when I was finished.

I thought it was just another demeaning command to remind me of my status as a prisoner, but as it turned out, it was far less painful walking to him on my knees than my wounded feet.

When I was inches from his standing form, he raised his garment and said, "Suck cock-then you eat!"

Nothing had changed with Zayd.

I had become adept and knowledgeable about the nuances of his erection, and the areas where he derived the most pleasure from my lips and tongue. 

Sucking men's cocks had become somewhat of a game. The sooner I was able to coax them into discharging in my mouth, the greater personal satisfaction I experienced for myself.

It took six minutes of sucking, stroking and caressing until Zayd filled my mouth with semen. I swallowed his gruel in triumph.

I remained on my knees while I ate; he sat on the bed in silence watching me.

The moment I finished, he forced my hands behind my back and cuffed them together. He then attached a tight-fitting collar around my neck; I choked and gagged when he pulled it tight, but he did not loosen it.

He then attached a long leash to one of the metal ringlets in the collar. He opened the door, tugged on the leash, and I was forced to follow behind on my knees.

We emerged into a hallway I'd never seen. There was activity on both ends of the hallway. Mostly women, they appeared to be working on one chore or another.

Zayd yanked the leash upwards, forcing me into a position where my head was held high, and my back was straight in perfect posture. 

My heart sank when I realized his intention: he was going to parade me down the hallway in front of all the women and show me off to them. 

The Taliban are a cruel and cunning people. So soon after inflicting great physical torture, I was going to be subjected to humiliation and psychological torture, as well.

I could feel my self-identity gradually slipping further away. I knew their goal was to destroy my spirit and self-confidence and eliminate all traces of my former personality until I was under their total domination and control. 

It was almost too perfect—too scripted. We casually strode by the women and they would turn and point at my small genitals and laugh with scorn and derision. Some of them spit on me.

Even though I knew deep inside this was planned and pre-arranged, it did little to assuage my embarrassment and utter humiliation. 

To my shame and horror, their plan was having its desired effect: I found myself wanting nothing more than their acceptance, and I was willing to perform any despicable task, or renounce my morals and beliefs to earn their trust and approval.

To this day, I believe it was that long walk of shame down the hallway that cemented my fate.

I remember thinking: What possible use or worth do I have in this life other than to obey and please my Taliban captors?

I counted five sunrises thru the thin crack in the wooden shutters. The previous four days Zayd had guided me thru the same routine:

I would satisfy his morning lust before being permitted to eat; he would cuff my hands and lead me naked by a leash down the long hallway. 

The women's demeanor had changed from ridiculing me to patronizing me. They would stroke my head and face, smile and say the same things every day.

When I asked Zayd what they were saying, he laughed, and said, "They say you pretty boy—that you will make Amir very happy..."

There was a room at the end of the hallway with a tub of hot water where Zayd would bathe me. The sweet smelling soaps and fragrances were rather girly, but I loved the aroma, and the feel of Zayd's hands as he personally washed every inch of my body.

The stinging cuts on my thighs and crotch healed-over in three days; and the purple welts on my buttocks and thighs were fading as well. My skin was becoming soft, and very white from lack of sunshine.




Taliban Concubine Ch. 03



My belly was taut from the sit-ups I was doing; and my chest actually showed some definition from the push-ups. I was acutely aware of how my breasts were now a prominent feature on my chest. 

Twice-a-day I would sit on Zayd's lap and he would fondle and knead my breasts. He would twist and pull at my nipples until they were sore. 

I hate to admit this, but when Zayd left me alone, I caressed my own breasts, and massaged my nipples; they had become ultra-sensitive and I became aroused at the slightest touch. 

I ate three meals a day, that is, after I'd swallowed Zayd's cum. I found myself looking forward to having his hot flesh deep in my mouth.

I thought often of Dmitri. I prayed he was alright. If it hadn't been for him I may not be alive. I loved him as much as I felt sorry for him. 

He was younger than me when he left home to serve his country; barely an adult. He never had the opportunity to realize his hopes and dreams. Instead, a cruel twist of fate changed his life forever. 

Circumstances beyond his control forced him to choose between life and death. He chose life and became a Taliban Concubine. Many men would rather die than succumb to the enemy...Dmitri and I view life as a precious gift that one must cling to at any cost.

If you were face-to-face with death and only one other option available to you-which option would you choose? Be honest...

The thought of his country leaving him behind in Afghanistan made me sick. It was worse than outrageous—it was unconscionable. I was sure my country would never do such a thing. 

Once Zayd was gone for the day, and I heard the children playing outside; I would stand on my tip-toes and peer thru the crack in the shutters.

There were four of them, two boys and two girls, and they ran about, shrieking and laughing and playing like children everywhere played. I was puzzled when they mixed English into their own language, but didn't give it much thought.

The longer I watched the joy their pure innocence afforded them, the wider the smile on my own face became. 

One early evening as I watched them, the gates near where they were playing swung open and a jeep drove into the courtyard. The children jumped and screamed and became more animated than usual.

Out of the jeep emerged a man dressed in Taliban garb. He had an impressive frame, and a full beard.

"Papa—papa—papa..." the children shouted.

When the man turned to pick-up one of the children, he was facing me. A jolt of surprise raced-up my spine. He looked vaguely familiar.

I was a good fifty yards from where they were standing, but I sensed I'd seen him somewhere before.

My heart began racing, my breath caught in my throat. 

I found myself staring at his ruggedly handsome face; his broad shoulders and massive chest thinking he was absolutely gorgeous. I immediately chastised myself for thinking of another man in those terms.

The man scooted the children inside and when the courtyard was empty; I went and sat on the edge of my mattress. The man's face lingered dreamily in my mind.

I absentmindedly caressed my breasts and pinched my nipples until they were hard points; all the while thinking of the man's face and muscular body.

My penis rose to full erection and I closed my eyes. 

I fantasized he was naked and I was kneeling between his powerful thighs. My trembling hand moved swiftly up-and-down my hard, throbbing prick.

Suddenly a thought so powerful came to mind that sent me careening over the cliff and my balls erupted like a volcano.

Is that Amir? I wondered. 

My body shook violently as cum burst out of my prick and straight in the air. I cried-out with joy hoping and praying the man outside the window would be my new Master.



Taliban Concubine Ch. 04



Zayd again...using my mouth for his pleasure.

I have grown so lonely in my solitary confinement I look forward to his visits...in fact, I don't know how or why, but I have developed an uncanny sense for anticipating his arrival.

Every morning I awake seconds before I hear the door creak open. I am already on my knees, back straight, head held high, when he wordlessly stands before me and raises the hem of his garment exposing himself to me in the dim light of early morning.

I move forward and inhale his musky and manly aroma; my prick instantly hardens. My hands and mouth linger on his hot male flesh, savoring the moment. I kiss and lick his cock and balls slowly, lovingly...I want the intimacy to last as long as possible---I crave human contact and delaying his climax means I will spend more time with a warm human being---sucking his cock is no longer something I MUST do---it is something I WANT to do and I want to do it well.

To my relief, I have grown rather fond of the taste of his semen and sperm---any man's semen and sperm for that matter...I now consider it a privilege and compliment when they choose to discharge into my mouth rather than make me wear it on my face all day.

After five-six minutes he becomes impatient. I know him well. Sometimes he likes me to prolong the sucking; revel in the sensations and pleasure I am giving him. Other times, this morning for instance, he wants to empty his balls in my belly quickly...he begins moving his hips back-and-forth, forcing more of his hardness into my mouth...that is my signal to suck him faster and harder.

I must say, he always rewards me well for my efforts. Most men I've serviced here have three-four spasms and their balls are drained. Zayd's scrotum contains so much man juice, he is able to shoot four, five, and sometimes six loads of thick and creamy goodness into my greedily sucking mouth before he is spent. 

I am no longer the boy I used to be...I am now the boy they want me to be.

I wonder how much semen and sperm I will be able to coax from Zayd's balls this morning...

"You will dance tonight for Amir---if you disappoint him he will assign you to the soldiers barracks with your friends!" announced Zayd once I'd licked his dangling member clean.

I hadn't thought of Eddy and Georgie in some time. 

Then he added: "Your two friends assholes have been stretched so wide the soldiers use only their mouths now...they drink gallons of Taliban man-seed every day!"

My heart ached for them. Eddy, the proud and manliest one of the three of us must have endured hell to submit to sucking cock...Georgie was more like me, pragmatic, with a low tolerance for pain...I knew it wouldn't take much 'encouragement' to get him on his knees.

"Amir quite good with whip---and he likes marking white flesh---never disobey him!" said Zayd in a threatening tone.

His words were intended to scare and intimidate me, but I felt joy and elation---I had already been whipped into submission; meeting my new Master meant to me that perhaps my long days of solitary confinement were coming to an end.

I thought of Dmitri every day, but didn't have the nerve to ask Zayd if he was alright. If the whipping The Old Man ordered for me was any indication, I couldn't bear to imagine what Dmitri had to endure at the hands of the brutal and sadistic Drug Lord.

I was just beginning to understand the loneliness and hopeless despair Dmitri had to have felt every single day for twenty-seven years...I vowed to myself to try and make his life more pleasant, if I possibly could...that is, if he was still alive. 

The old women took great care in bathing and grooming me for Amir. They excitedly chatted as their hands washed every inch of my body. 

One fat woman took a special interest in me. She delighted in pinching and rolling my enlarged nipples until they were proudly erect; she would then massage my anus until my prick rose to full erection...she would then laugh and point at my long nipples and tiny hard-on and the other women would join in the laughter.

I didn't care anymore...yes, I knew the women were trying their best to humiliate me...to make me feel like less of a man because I wasn't as well-endowed as the Taliban soldiers, but I rationalized it in my mind by believing they were jealous of me---between me and these women---I was the only one servicing manly cocks...I was positive the women hadn't been fucked in years. I must say, even though they resented me, the women did a thorough job of preparing me for the evening. 

When the fat woman put the finishing touches of rouge on my stiff nipples and aureola's, she gave me red, translucent harem pants to wear then pushed me before a mirror and I stared face-to-face with a pretty white girl...it took several seconds for the shock to register I was staring at myself.

My blond hair hadn't been trimmed since my capture and was now hanging loosely on my shoulders; the women had painted my face with rouge and eyeliner highlighting my clear blue eyes; my belly was flat and firm from exercise; my breasts had been manipulated into small round mounds which I guessed to be size 32A; and my nipples---oh my God---my nipples, stood proudly erect from those breasts a good inch-and-a-half in length..,and I was wearing thin, diaphanous harem pants---the traditional garb for female harem slaves.

I wondered at the purpose of my new appearance...if Amir likes boys---why would they go to so much trouble to make me look like a girl?

I waited behind a curtain in a large, banquet-type room. The men were seated cross-legged in a circle on the floor eating from small tables before them. On the far side of the circle I saw the Old Drug Lord, and to my chagrin, Amir, my new Master was seated with his back to me...I was dying to see what he looked like—if he was, indeed, the man I saw in the courtyard with the children---he was gorgeous!

I continued waiting...the men were in no hurry to finish their meals...I tried to picture what it will be like when I danced before them...I prayed to God I wouldn't disappoint Amir, and force him to whip me before all of these men.

I watched as women removed not only the dishes, but the small tables, as well. Dinner was finally over, and I knew soon it would be my turn to provide the evenings entertainment...I was extremely nervous, to say the the least.

Someone dimmed the lighting; the air became cloudy and heavy with smoke. The men were passing around an intricate-looking smoking device, and each one inhaled deeply when it came their turn to smoke from the pipe.

There was music floating in the air as well, and I saw a man with a flute seated against the far wall, and beside him, another man with a tambourine.

Suddenly, Zayd grabbed me from behind and held me still while someone else pushed down the harem pants. My legs were forced further apart, and there was something slick pressing my anus. It was a tube, and it had been lubricated with some substance, and it was slid entirely inside me then removed and then pushed inside me again.

When my asshole was totally lubricated, a hand wearing a rubber glove took my flaccid penis and smeared paste on it, as well. Next, my balls were given a lighter coating of the sticky substance. 

It all happened so quickly, nothing immediately registered in my brain, but in less than two-minutes, the sensations of my prick rubbing against the sheer material of the pants became so delightful I couldn't help becoming aroused and my boner tented-out the front of the red pants.

Then the intense heat began in my asshole. It wasn't painful at all...in fact, my asshole and hard prick seemed to be working together...as the heat intensified 'back there,' my prick became harder and the need to climax more and more urgent.

Oh my God, I thought, this must be the same paste that had turned Eddy and Georgie into cock-craving sluts the first night in the cave after our capture!

A hand grasped my erection thru the pants and squeezed it---OH MY GOD IT FELT WONDERFUL!!

I closed my eyes and moaned as jolts of pure pleasure coursed thru-out my entire body. I lost my balance and someone (Zayd?) caught me before I fell. The musicians began playing and Zayd leaned into me so close I felt his hardness pressing against my buttocks.

"It is time to dance, little one," he hissed into my ear, "...dance like your life depends upon it---because it does!"

He smacked me hard on my butt and I shot forward until I found myself the center of attention surrounded by the men. Something had changed...the men now each had a naked boy beside them and I could see the boys hands moving underneath the men's robes.

The musicians played a slow and melodic tune...I raised my hands above my head and rotated and gyrated my hips to the rhythm of the music...the burning I felt 'down there' intensified---I wanted a faster-paced song to dance to---it took great effort to maintain my slow and simple gyrations.

I remembered the instructions and moved until I was dancing directly in front of The Old Man---OH MY GOD---DMITRI WAS THERE BESIDE HIM---HE LOOKS WONDERFUL!! 

The Old Man's robe was completely open and I watched Dmitri fondle and caress The Old Man's balls and shrunken penis...Dmitri had his work cut out for him trying to coax an erection from the impotent Old Goat.

I danced the entire song in front of The Old Man. I thrust my erection at him; a pre-cum stain the size of a quarter now seeped thru the front of my pants. When I turned to show him my buttocks, I began a more pronounced hip rotation and a series of lewd and lascivious thrusts in his face. I opened my legs wider so he could clearly see my anus...I wanted to help Dmitri give The Old Man a hard-on any way I could.

The song ended and a new one began immediately...faster paced than the first and I moved on to dance before the next man, but not before I stared into Dmitri's eyes and gave him an imperceptible nod of the head...maybe it was wishful thinking, but I swore I saw him wink at me.

Onto the next man...OH MY GOD---IT'S SPARKLE EYES!! I hadn't seen him since he delivered me to The Old Man. A slight smile formed on his lips when he saw the expression of recognition on my face. The boy beside him was vigorously moving his hand up-and-down underneath his robe.

I smiled as I rotated my hips and thrust my erection...I thought he returned the smile...I turned and displayed myself to him as I did to The Old Man...this time however, the burning heat in my asshole made my hip thrust more pronounced, and quite dirty...I spread my legs wide and raised and lowered my hips as though I was impaling myself on his hard cock...I thought I heard him groan.

The beat to each song became progressively faster; and the heat in my asshole caused my inhibitions to totally vanish. My hip thrusts and gyrations became filthier than when I'd practiced. My mind and body were consumed with lust---I needed a hard cock inside me urgently---like right now...when I bent over for each man I reached back and pried open my buttocks so they clearly saw my puckered anus...it took all my strength NOT to reach beneath the pants and finger-fuck myself in front of all these men.

My dancing was having the desired effect on the men. Their hard cocks were now visible; some boys were already bobbing their heads up-and-down on the throbbing male flesh.

I was one man away from my new Master. I decided to give him a good show...when I presented my open buttocks to him I leaned over as far as I could and smiled at him from between my legs...I watched him grab his boy by the hair and force his face down to his cock...he cried out and amazingly, I watched the globs of semen and sperm shoot from his cock and splash against the boy's pretty face.

It was time to dance for Amir. The music was now so fast my gyrating and thrusting buttocks and hips were more obscene than a fifty-cent hooker in a Kunar province whorehouse...the fire in my asshole kept my prick in a constant state of ALMOST ejaculation...my balls were numb---that had to be the reason I hadn't shot a load yet...I was crazy insane with the need to cum---I knew I would do anything---perform whatever lewd and disgusting sex act demanded of me just to relieve the intense pressure in my balls. 

I stared at Amir's tented-out robe and imagined the monster cock that was making such a huge bulge...my mind screamed, OH GOD I WANT THAT THING INSIDE ME---PLEASE FUCK ME WITH YOUR HUGE COCK, MY TALIBAN MASTER!! 

I saw the steely gaze of his piercing brown eyes. His square jaw and chin and his manly, rugged good-looks...I would have ejaculated just staring at his face if it had been possible...yes, I had been trained very well...I promised myself I would make Amir the best Taliban Concubine ever---I would plead with him to allow me the privilege of sucking his manly, Taliban cock---I would spread open my legs and bend over and beg him to fuck me with his beautiful, brown cock!

Maybe it was the paste playing games with my mind, but I considered myself the luckiest boy in the world for having such a gorgeous Master with a huge, hard cock...I will eagerly and happily satisfy his lust again-and-again-and-again-and-again...

My Taliban Master sat stoically, perfectly still,watching my performance...unlike his peers, he refused to reach beneath his robe and stroke his hard cock...I was certain he was the kind of man who never pleasured himself---he didn't have to---his commanding presence alone, and perhaps his skillful use of the whip were all he needed to persuade a woman or pretty boy to submit to whatever sex act he demanded...his satisfaction came from imposing his will on the unwilling and emptying the contents of his balls into whatever orifice he chose.

Amir suddenly rose to his feet and shouted something at Zayd. The obedient servant rushed to Amir and handed him a two-inch thick bamboo cane. Zayd came to me, pushed me to the center of the circle, and barked, "You have displeased Master---lock wrists behind neck!"

Confused, and very afraid, I obeyed his command. Zayd pushed down my harem pants and had me step out of them...I stood totally naked surrounded by Taliban Warriors...I heard guffaws and comments of derision and saw some of them laughing and pointing at my three-and-a-half inch boner---I became overwhelmed with shame and humiliation...since I no longer had pubic hair, I had thought my prick appeared much larger and longer whenever it stood straight out from my belly---obviously it was an illusion of my mind.

I felt a hand stroking my buttocks then felt Master's hot breath on my neck as he whispered to me in perfect English, "My little white American pet, you will pay the price for disobedience...Zayd told you it is forbidden to look at the faces of superior men and you chose to ignore his warning...EVERY Taliban man is your superior---never again look directly at any of us!"

I was so frightened my voice squeaked when I replied, "Y-Yes, Master---I'm sorry, Master!" and immediately lowered my eyes to the floor.

I heard the whoosh of air a split-second before the cane struck my buttocks with such force it caused me to lose balance...I quickly resumed my position and waited for more.

SMACK---SMACK---SMACK---SMACK---SMACK---SMACK---SMACK---SMACK!!

I had learned early on, an obedient Taliban concubine takes punishment silently...while my mind screamed in agony, I allowed only small mewls of surprise and pain escape from my slightly parted lips as the tears flowed freely from my eyes down my cheeks and onto the marble floor.

When he was finished, my buttocks were bruised and on fire, but oddly, my dick was still hard.

"You have performed admirably, my little white pet---you have earned a reward..." he whispered.

UH-OH, I thought. If I had learned one thing in my captivity, it is when a Taliban man says 'You have earned a reward'---it means you must pay a very high price for that reward!

"Your tiny penis has stayed erect thru-out your spanking...you enjoyed it!" he said with a certain glee in his voice. "I will allow you to relieve yourself with your hand...I will resume spanking you---it will stop when you climax---BEGIN!"

SMACK---I hesitated a moment too long. The cane came down hard on my already tortured buttocks.

My left hand flew down to my hard-on and began stroking it as fast as I could. I heard more laughter from the Taliban men.

SMACK---SMACK...my hand was a blur on my prick---SMACK---SMACK---SMACK...I began to feel the cum churning in my balls---SMACK---SMACK...

OH MY GOD---I CAN'T CLIMAX---HE'S GOING TO KILL ME WITH THAT DAMN CANE!!

SMACK—SMACK—SMACK...I was close---oh so close---SMACK---I'm almost there---SMACK---almost...SMACK!!

OH MY GOD---HERE IT COMES!!

I cried out the words Zayd had taught me---the only acceptable phrase I was allowed to utter during ejaculation:

"ALLAH-AKBAR (God is great!)---ALLAH-AKBAR--ALLAH-AKBAR--ALLAH-AKBAR," I shouted over-and-over as huge streams of semen and sperm shot out of my pulsating cock and landed with loud splashes on the marble floor.

The men laughed and whistled and heartily slapped their hands together as they watched my lust contorted body writhing and bucking as my hand greedily pumped every last drop of cum from my rapidly shrinking balls.

As soon as the pleasure faded, the pain of my horribly beaten buttocks became immeasurably worse.

Amir forcibly turned my body until I was facing away from his Warriors.

"Display your buttocks to my men!" he said forcefully.

"Y-Yes, Master!" I quickly replied, and with my head down, tears still flowing from my eyes; I slowly walked around the circle giving each man a close-up view of my battered and bruised flesh.

The men excitedly blurted out comments of appreciation for Amir's expertise with the cane. Three of the men went so far as to pinch my swollen asscheeks eliciting even more whimpers of pain from my closed mouth.

When I'd made a full circle Amir gripped the back of my neck in a powerful hand and pointed at the marble floor.

"GET ON YOUR KNEES AND CLEAN THE FLOOR WITH YOUR TONGUE!!" he ordered. 

I heard more hoots of derision as I instantly went to my knees and obeyed his command. I was amazed at how many large pools of cum I had deposited on the floor.

I was also amazed, unpleasantly, how quickly warm and creamy semen turned into cold and nasty spunk.

I was lapping-up the last of my cum from the floor when I heard loud shouts of approval from the men. When I raised my eyes I saw Master had exposed himself...the men were cheering his manhood!

How odd, I thought...men in America wouldn't be caught dead looking at another man's cock---let alone shout out their admiration for it!

"SUCK MY COCK, WHITE SLAVE BOY!" Amir shouted down at me.

The men cheered again as I immediately obeyed my Master's command.

The manly aroma from his crotch made my head swoon and I had to concentrate hard on pleasuring him. I massaged his huge ball sac as I took in as much cock as my mouth could hold.

I didn't need encouragement or threats of more beatings to suck him the best I could---this was what I had wanted from the very beginning. I used every skill I had learned in my captivity to pleasure him.

The Taliban Warriors mocked me as I sucked, calling me vile names...names I had learned that meant I was not a man...real men would not be on their knees servicing a hard cock...in their eyes, I was nothing more than a girl...to be used in any manner that inflamed their lust, and heightened their sexual pleasure.

Master held my head still and rammed his cock in-and-out of my mouth. My lips rounded tightly over his magnificent erection; my tongue never stopping, licking and lapping at his salty flesh.

With a mighty lunge forward, he buried his prick in my mouth and his cockhead banged the back of my throat.




Taliban Concubine Ch. 04



"ALLAH-AKBAR!" he shouted. "ALLAH-AKBAR---ALLAH-AKBAR..."

I had known from the weight of his massive balls he would have an unusually large flow of semen and sperm when he shot into my mouth, but there was so much of it, and in my limited experience, I could not have prepared myself to swallow all of it.

I did the best I could but small streams of sperm and semen escaped my mouth and dribbled down my chin as I made loud gulping noises with every mouthful...that caused another round of loud derision from the Warriors. 

When his body came to rest, I made a great show of licking and cleaning his now-flaccid penis. I even dropped my head to the floor and licked-up the small pool of cum that had formed. I did everything I could to avoid another spanking for my failure to swallow his entire load.

Amir barked an order to Zayd then patted my head like an obedient dog.

Zayd ordered me on all-fours and quickly wrapped a metal choke chain around my neck; he then pushed my legs as far apart as they could go and attached two leather cuffs around my thighs...the cuffs puzzled me...when he produced an iron pipe and fixed it to each cuff, my legs were painfully held wide open by the pipe...my nether region totally exposed to everyone's view. 

I remained on all fours and could not see what was happening above me, but I heard the tell-tale WHOOSH in the air then the all-too-familiar SMACK of the cane on my buttocks. I yelped in pain but Master gave me three more resounding SMACKS before he stopped and leaned down and whispered in my ear:

"Never insult your superiors by spilling their seed!"

"Y-Yes, M-Master," I cried thru choking sobs.

He suddenly yanked on the the leash attached to the chain causing me to choke and gag. The men laughed one more time as Master led me away---my legs so wide apart I became acutely aware of my erection, dangling scrotum and my puckered anus on full view to all the men.

I heard men behind me barking orders and turned my head and saw naked boys either sucking virile cocks, or impaling themselves on huge erections, bouncing up-and-down on the Warriors thighs, their assholes providing pleasure to their Taliban Masters.

It was difficult keeping pace with Master on my hands and knees; from time to time, he yanked on the leash hard for me to keep up with him.

He led me down unfamiliar hallways to an uncertain fate. His rough treatment of me thus far gave me grave concern for my future well-being...was his brutality genuine, or simply an act performed for the benefit of his men?

My heart pounded as he stopped beside a door. He opened it and pulled hard on the leash...of course, I had no choice but to follow him inside and begin another new chapter in my life.

Given the current circumstances, to claim I've been lucky in life may sound naïve and ridiculous, but that is exactly how I feel each morning when I awake and feel the warmth of the sun, hear the birds singing, and feel the heat from Master's body next to mine.

I stealthily climb off the big bed and silently pad my way to the ornate bathroom to relieve myself then prepare my asshole in case Master desires a morning fuck...I hope he does---the feel of his hands pushing and pulling my hips while I bend over for him is so sexy and erotic, I never fail to climax.

Of course, some mornings, he demands the use of my hands, mouth and tongue only, and I am left with an erection, and a painful case of blue balls. 

Depending on his mood, he may allow me to masturbate, but usually he forbids my orgasm until the next time I bend over for him, or am riding up-and-down his magnificent pole of hot and hard flesh.

Between his whip and wonderful cock, he has trained me well. He has proven to me he is a uniquely Superior Man---a man I proudly go to my knees to serve...or to whom I happily bend over and wait for him to use me like the lucky slave boy I am...I am thrilled to be able to call him 'Master'...

I am thankful and blessed he chooses to sleep with me over his wives. It is my belief I have earned that honor and privilege by my eagerness and enthusiasm to satisfy his every demand, no matter how sick or depraved they may be...you know, a slave boy has to do what a slave boy has to do...

Sometimes fragmented memories of my previous life comes to mind and I immediately dismiss them because they seem like nightmares...it is unimaginable I could have lived that way. Life is so much better now that I am told what to do and when to do it...my only responsibility is to ensure I remain desirable for my Master...I am nothing---life would be an empty void without Master! 

After Master's morning orgasm, I assist him with his bath, and help him dress in the clothes I pick out for him. Once he is gone for the day, Zayd immediately comes into the room and uses my mouth, and while I'm sucking him, he pokes fun and calls me Master's favorite woman and wife...I don't care---sometimes I believe it to be true---sometimes I feel more like a girl than a boy, and obeying and pleasing my 'husband' is my only priority in life.

After my morning ablutions, I am taken to a small dining room and eat breakfast with Dmitri. I have come to gain Master's trust and confidence, and he graciously permitted my request to be reunited with Dmitri. We eat breakfast and lunch together, and most times dinner too unless Master or The Old Man has plans for either of us.

Dmitri and I gab like schoolgirls, and laugh and giggle over the silliest things. Sometimes Zayd allows us an hour of intimacy after we bribe him with a blowjob.

Dmitri still calls me his "little Padrooga" (girlfriend), and uses me much like Master does, but always gives me mind-numbing orgasms. 

I love him and he loves me. A few months earlier I would have punched and fought any guy who questioned my masculinity and heterosexuality, but now...who knows? Maybe my destiny had always been for me to become a man's 'Padrooga'...there are certainly worse things in life.

I have been here so long I no longer try to guess the day of the week, or even the month. Dmitri and I are allowed outside of the mansion only briefly, and then it is only to sit on a shaded patio once or twice a week for maybe thirty-minutes at a time.

Dmitri says it is because Amir wants to keep our skin as white as possible; the only acceptable markings to our flesh come from his whip, cane or hand. 

Because I have totally accepted my role as his concubine, Master no longer has a reason or excuse to punish me, so he will create a problem that doesn't exist to give me a thorough spanking.

A few days ago, for example, I was giving him his 'afternoon delight' (my phrase for it); I was naked, kneeling on the floor between his powerful thighs, giving him a long, and loving sucking; as usual, my legs were spread wide apart, and a small mirror placed strategically on the floor so he could stare at my anus as I bobbed my head up-and-down his hot and hard pole of flesh.

I think it rather peculiar, but if the sight of my puckered rose excites him---so be it!

He then said, "Display yourself, my little white slaveboy!" and my hands immediately abandon his erection to reach down to hold open my asscheeks (which, because my legs are so far apart isn't necessary anyway).

Those words alone tell me he's in the mood to punish me because without my hands holding his cock, I cannot control whether I am able to swallow his entire load when he ejaculates. 

He has a way of intentionally jerking his spurting cock out of my mouth for the briefest of seconds, but long enough that I miss swallowing some of his semen and sperm thereby making me guilty of disrespecting and insulting a superior Taliban male and giving him cause to punish me.

I know he's playing a game but it doesn't matter to me: He is the sole reason I am alive...he owns my body AND my soul---he can do with me whatever pleases him. If spanking or whipping me brings him pleasure, so be it---it is his right to do with me whatever he wishes! 

I am grateful for every single day he chooses to allow me to service him.

My free time between meals and exercise periods, I now assist the women with their duties. They no longer insult me, or make fun of me. In fact, they go to great lengths to teach me how to perform womanly chores such as cooking and sewing. 

I am currently working on a new robe for Master. They are teaching me intricate stitches, and I have discovered a creative side of me I didn't know existed. 

They even now find joy when they prepare my body for Amir's pleasure. Asefa and Farzana dote over me in the bubble bath as they clean and shave me. They take pride in painting my fingernails and toenails with elaborate colors and designs; and washing and drying my long blonde hair then fashioning it into a ponytail. 

Lastly, they make sure my 'kuss' (Dmitri said the word translates to 'pussy') is properly cleaned and oiled as to not cause Master any discomfort when he enters me. They then help me into the sheer harem pants I have come to love...the material rubbing my erection drives me absolutely crazy with lust.

When their work is done, they guide me to kneel beside Master's bed to await his arrival. With broad smiles on their faces, they giggle and compliment each other on how pretty I look...I smile too, and thank them for my pleasing appearance because my greatest fear is Master no longer wishing to fuck me.

One day there is uncommon commotion in the kitchen as I assist the women with the preparation of dinner. They are all jabbering a mile-a-minute and I wonder how they can hear what everyone else is saying.

There is a large amount of food, and I can only guess there is some kind of party or special feast planned for tonight.

Later, exercising in the nude with Dmitri, I ask him if he knows what all the excitement is about.

Without stopping his routine, he matter-of-factly says "Warriors capture more enemy soldiers---they be presented to Amir and The Old Man tonight."

For some reason, he and I seem to unconsciously exercise harder and longer than usual, and I feel a persistent nervousness in the pit of my belly. Moments later I blurt out what is troubling me. 

"What if Master finds one of them more attractive than me?"

Dmitri stops and comes to me. He puts his arms around me, draws me close and kisses me. He try's to diffuse the fear he sees in my eyes.

"My padrooga," he says softly, "...no one prettier than you!"

As we kiss, his erection grows and presses against my stomach; I take it in hand and caress him. I feel the slightest downward pressure on my shoulders and drop to my knees and bury my face in his crotch.

My lips and tongue revel in his sweaty, salty flavor. I gently hold his scrotum as I lick the perspiration from his balls. I tease him with my lips and tongue. I want to hear the words; I want to feel his body trembling with desire.

Finally, he could no longer stay quiet. "Padrooga---take it in your mouth!"

I reach down and squeeze and stroke my erection. I suck his cock in rhythm with my masturbating hand. My fears and apprehension are replaced with the calming joy and delight I experience whenever a man's hard penis fills my mouth.

The women take more time than usual bathing and preparing me for Master. When finally they oil my 'kuss' they "Ooo" and "Ahhh" at the tightness of my fuckhole, as I have come to call it. They take turns pushing oiled fingers into me, and each time I close the walls of my fuckhole and 'milk' the finger inside of me---we all giggle at the game, but they seem very impressed with my muscle control.

I wait kneeling beside the big bed sporting a pulsating erection that tents-out my harem pants. I can't help myself---I wonder what the enemy soldiers look like---how big or small their cocks and scrotum's will be, and whether I will be required to bring them to orgasm---I sure hope so...

The door opens and in walks Master. I can tell it is him by the ratty old sandals on his feet---I wish he'd get new ones. He taps my head and crooks a finger at me to follow him. 

In the hallway, I stay three paces behind him, and just to his left. My eyes are hypnotically glued to the manly roll of his hips and buttocks beneath the tight robe...my prick throbs and leaks pre-cum as I imagine those hips violently thrusting his erection deep inside me...the mere sight of Master excites me every time.

I have long admitted and accepted my love for Master. He rules me with his iron will; he praises me when I perform well, and punishes me when I deserve to be. 

In the privacy of our bed, he will stare into my eyes as he kisses me and murmur sweet terms of endearment...of course, outside of our room, I am forbidden to look at his face, but once his masculine body is on top of me and pinning me to the mattress he takes my breath away and I exhale the words "I love you" as naturally as exhaling the air itself.

It is a long walk to wherever we are going, but I am contented and thrilled that Master has chosen to include me in the night's festivities. We finally enter a large room; a raised platform in the center appears to be some sort of stage.

I follow Master to one side of the 'stage' and he directs me to sit beside him; an act in itself that causes a warm rush of pride to course thru my body.

I sit beside him with no outward show of emotion, but inside, my heart is beaming with joy; I straighten my back to sit as tall as possible so everyone entering the room will see me sitting beside my fierce Taliban Warrior.

In the dim light, I finally am able to see the opposite side of the room---I see Dmitri and The Old Man sitting and waiting as we are. I am struck at how small The Old Man appears to be...and the troubled expression on Dmitri's face.

The room begins to fill with Master's soldiers. There is an air of excitement and anticipation...the men are laughing and seem to be congratulating one another. 

The soldiers are enjoying an abundance of food and drink...Master and I remain stoic, silent, watching the spectacle unfold before our eyes. 

I feel good the soldiers are enjoying themselves. Master told me how brave they have fought against our brutal enemy---an enemy who without provocation, invaded our homeland, and murdered thousands of innocent women and children. It warms my heart to see their smiles, and hear their laughter...they deserve a night of celebration for their heroic fight!

Suddenly I hear a flute and tambourine and watch as two, very white-complected slave boys climb up onto the stage and dance for the cheering men. They wear only a swath of cloth over their genitals, and it does little to conceal their erections.

They wildly gyrate their hips in time with the music and I see immediately they are not as good of dancers as I am when I entertain Master. I am overcome with a rush of pride---I am a better slave boy than either of them.

Something troubles me as I study their faces. I feel as though I know them, but of course, that is impossible---they are 'barracks slaves' servicing dozens of brave soldiers every day while I am a 'house slave' responsible only for my Master's enjoyment.

One of them is in perfect shape with nice muscles, and a sculpted chest...the other is doughy, chubby, I briefly wonder why the soldiers would want to fuck him, but when he turns and shakes his buttocks, I understand the appeal he may have for the men...his jiggling asscheeks are quite enticing...I am certain many brave soldiers have delighted in his soft, plump buttocks as they plow their magnificent Taliban cocks deep inside his 'kuss' from behind.

I see two more boys ascend the stairs: one black--one white---I assume they are the newly captured enemy soldiers.

My breath catches in my throat as I stare at the large, and finely muscled black boy...the sheath draping his privates conceals nothing---his enormous erection is jutting majestically from his crotch---hard, firm and extremely proud...his cock rivals Master's in length and thickness...the appearance of it causes my own prick to pulsate and throb inside my harem pants.

My attention is suddenly diverted to the much smaller white boy who is totally naked. I hear panicked cries of "OH-GOD---OH-GOD" as he desperately tries to move as far away from the huge black cock as possible, but the two barracks slaves catch him, hold him in place, and bends him over. They kick his legs wide apart and the boy is helplessly offering the big black cock an enticing target.

The expression on the face of the black boy is unmistakable---fear and revulsion...but I know from my own experience the paste they have smeared on his genitals will soon cause him to capitulate to the fervent burning lust in his groin, and will transform him into an animal concerned with one thought only---to mercilessly fuck the bending boy until he empties every last drop of his boiling semen and sperm into the boys asshole.

One of the barracks slaves, seeing the reluctance of the boy to fuck his friend and fellow soldier, takes hold of his cock and firmly strokes it...in a matter of seconds all will to resist has disappeared and he gives in to man's basest instinct and desire. He grasps the bending boy's hips, aims his cock, then with a mighty and heart-stopping thrust, rams his monster cock into the helpless boy's asshole.

The music drowns out any and all sounds escaping the boy's mouth. The boys struggles and expressions of pain and outrage quickly change into cries of ecstacy and pure bliss---his mouth forms a perfect 'O' and with an odd smile on his face he begins meeting each thrust of the big black cock with mewling and grunting noises as he violently pushes his hips backwards in desperate hopes of impaling himself on every single inch of the magnificent pole of flesh inside his newly deflowered asshole.

Master opens his robe and pulls my head downward. I am momentarily disappointed I cannot watch the erotic spectacle before me, but soon I am swooning, and furiously bobbing my head up-and-down his wonderful cock.

I am lost in the sucking. I do not hear the shrieks from the opposite side of the stage. Master roughly yanks my head upward and I wonder if I've done something wrong. He covers himself with his robe, leaps up then disappears into the crowd.

I shake the lust and confusion from my head and watch men rush to where Dmitri and The Old Man are sitting. 

Dmitri is standing, frantically waving his arms. I do not see The Old Man---I guess he is on the floor...the scene becomes surreal---the newly captured soldiers on stage are fucking like madmen---groaning, straining to climax while just beyond them I see Master pick up the limp, lifeless body of his father and rush for the door.

Someone is shouting at me, I see Zayd standing over me. He takes my arm and pulls me along with him...I manage one last look back and see Dmitri standing alone...wearing the most heart-wrenching expression I've ever seen on another human beings face...I want to go to him but Zayd will have none of it---just as we exit the ballroom, I hear the fornicating captives bellow and scream as they finally achieve the greatest orgasms of their lives...

Zayd locks me inside my room. I sit alone pondering the possibilities...what does this mean? My head is spinning and I suddenly feel very, very cold as I wonder what will happen to Dmitri if The Old Man does not survive.

I am alone the following day...at meal times Farzana unlocks the door and wheels the food cart into the room. I ask her questions but she does not answer. She remains silent while I eat then takes the cart with her when she leaves, re-locking the door.

It is late and I am about to drift off to sleep when I hear the door open. My heart surges---Master is here! shouts my mind.

The light suddenly blinds me, and when I squint, I see Zayd standing nearby. Wordlessly, he raises the hem of his garment exposing his virile erection. I scramble off the bed to my knees and suck his cock deeply into my mouth. 




Taliban Concubine Ch. 04



It takes less than two-minutes of licking and sucking for his hips to begin to push-and-pull his hot, trembling cock in-and-out of my mouth. He holds my head still and uses my lips and tongue to masturbate himself. He cums quickly; he holds my ears as he discharges inside my mouth. I am nothing more than a receptacle for his lust. 

I dare speak to him and ask, "The Old Man?" 

He looks down at me and says, "Dead!"

I quickly add: "Dmitri?"

His eyebrows raise and his eyes narrow into a quizzical stare. "Why would Amir want HIM?" 

I gaze deeply into his brown eyes and say, "Please save him."

Two more days and nights without Master. I am growing fearful in my isolation. 

Zayd arrives before bed time and I drop to my knees and service him. He has made it clear no words are to be spoken. As soon as I empty his balls and lick him clean he finally speaks.

"Amir make plans with Warriors---on patrol tonight---not sure when returning!" he says. 

"What about Dmitri? Is Dmitri okay?" I ask softly.

He gently strokes my face and I search his eyes for clues but find nothing. He leaves me alone, and in the darkness I think of Dmitri, I cannot help but cry myself to sleep.

At first I thought I was dreaming. I swore I heard the WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH of helicopters, but soon realized Master has NO helicopters. 

It was the rapid POP-POP-POP that brought me fully awake and I bolted upright in bed searching the darkness. I recognized the sounds to be gunfire---I heard men shouting in the distance using perfect English.

More gunfire---more shouting. The noises were still a distance away...I guessed they were near the barracks. 

My breath caught in my throat---sharp jolts of fear coursed thru every fiber of my being. I knew what was happening---the white devils were invading our compound---we were under attack by enemy soldiers!

I shiver in the dark as I listen to more gunfire and shouting. I flip on the bedside lamp and search the room. I race to the far wall and take down the ceremonial sword hung there for decoration---it is my only weapon for self-defense.

Loud footsteps clomping down the hallway---a masculine voice shouting "JOHN---JOHN---JOHN."

My head whips towards the lamp realizing my mistake---the white devils will see the light in the room...before I can run and turn off the lamp the door flies open and I am twenty-feet away from a single enemy soldier. I raise the sword over my head ready to use it on the white devil himself!

He looks me up-and-down with a mixture of pity and disgust. "OH MY GOD, JOHN---WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?" he shouts.

I don't know why he calls me 'John'---I've never seen this man before...and I certainly don't understand why he is so appalled by my appearance---I'm looking GOOD...my taut, flat belly---my enlarged aureola's and nipples---the ornate dangling ear rings---my diaphanous, pink harem pants---my flowing blonde hair---I'VE NEVER FELT SO BEAUTIFUL IN MY LIFE!!

"John, don't you know me? You used to call me 'Sergeant Rick'---remember? C'mon, we're here to save you---we've already rescued your friends---let's go---we have to leave before the Taliban returns!"

I stare hard into the devils bright blue eyes, and---OH MY GOD---IT'S SERGEANT RICK---HE'S HERE TO RESCUE ME AND EDDY AND GEORGIE AND THE TWO SOLDIERS---THEY CAME FOR US---THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE US HOME!!

From down the hallway I hear: "SERGEANT, WE DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME---THE DRUG LORD IS RETURNING WITH HIS MEN---WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!!"

The second soldier peaks into the room, sees me and exclaims, "OH MY GOD!!"

I see the sadness in Sergeant Rick's eyes as he implores, "Johnny, c'mon, we have to go---this is your only chance for freedom---PLEASE---come with us!"

I stare into his eyes as I slowly shake my head back and forth. I hear his sigh of disappointment.

The second soldier says in a flat tone of voice, "Leave him be, Sarge---he wouldn't be able to live a normal life back home anyway!"

Sergeant Rick gave me one last look, shook his head, then the two men disappeared back down the hallway.

I was on my knees beside the big bed, my back straight, and my head held high when I heard the helicopters take off and fly away.

Hours later I hear excited footsteps in the hallway approaching my room. 

I had remained on my knees---a million thoughts had rushed thru my mind including doubts and regrets...did I do the right thing by staying here, or was it the greatest mistake of my life? Was the soldier with Sergeant Rick right when he'd said I'd never be able to live a normal life back home? I'll never know...

I could feel the massive presence of my Master standing in the doorway. I disobeyed orders and glanced at his handsome, and rugged good looks. I saw a slight smile play across his lips.

He entered the room followed by Zayd and DMITRI---my heart sang with joy---I'd never felt so alive with happiness!

He stood inches away from me. I stared at his ragged sandals and a broad smile lit up my face. He caressed my cheeks and hair and finally spoke.

"Farzana overheard the American soldier...why did you choose to stay?" he softly asked me.

I said nothing. I rose to my feet, pushed down my harem pants and kicked them aside. I rested my head and shoulders on the bed, spread my legs, reached between them and pulled apart my buttocks and displayed my 'kuss' to him.

"I belong to you---you are my Master!" I quietly told him.

I heard the shuffling of footsteps then felt Dmitri's familiar fingers oiling my 'kuss' for Master's enjoyment.

When I felt Master's strong hands grip my hips, I reached back and found his magnificent cock and guided it to my entrance. I wriggled and squirmed as I worked the bulbous knob just past my sphincter...I held my breath and waited for him to thrust into me.

He said with a chuckle, "You disobeyed me---your eyes strayed to my face---after I fuck you, I will mark your buttocks with a sound whipping!"

His words caused my erection to throb---the sperm and semen in my balls boiled and threatened to burst immediately...and in the split second before he impaled me on his wonderful, rock-hard cock, I praised Allah and made a vow to be a loving and obedient Taliban concubine for as long as my Master desired me.