Thursday, 28 July 2016

Trials of the Old Men (1)




This started long ago as a drawing which didn't make a lot of sense. Then recently I scanned it, played around with it with Manga Studio and colored it. As I was coloring it, as story started taking shape in my head. I decided to write it down. It was the start of the kind of story I would post on the Nifty.org some time ago. But on nifty, that type of story would soon be drowned under the accumulation of incoming stories about young men being used, being taken into slavery and blah blah blah. So I decided to run it here instead. If you like it, do take the time to say a little word about it in the comments section. It'll be a great incentive for me to continue.

Trials of the Old Men (1)

Old Husseyn was puzzled. Today, Master Omar had chained him in the “Room of Pain”, as he called it. That was par for the course. Ever since Omar had bought him off his family three years before, Husseyn had been his slave. Whenever Husseyn thought about it, tears came to his eyes – sold into slavery by his own son! Could there be a crueler fate? But fate had not been so unkind. Omar, the slave trader, had not bought him so he could sell him at a higher price. How could he? Who would buy a skinny old man like him? In fact, Omar had bought him for himself – for his own pleasures. So it was that old Husseyn had become Omar’s love slave, and it hadn’t been easy for a proud old pater familias like him to become the plaything of another man. But Omar hadn’t been that bad – he seemed to have grown genuinely fond of Husseyn and when he wasn’t using him sexually, he had treated him well, given him his own room, fed him well… sometimes, he could even be tender, but that didn’t happen so often. Most of the time, he was still strong and ruthless Master Omar.
Like today.
Except today, it wasn’t Husseyn who was being spanked by Omar’s big paddle-like hands, it was another older man. Who was he? He was obviously a westerner. Surely Omar couldn’t have bought him?
- You seem puzzled, chibani, Omar had finally told Husseyn after tying the old westerner to some of the ceiling ropes. “Chibani” meant old man and was Omar’s pet name for Husseyn.
Old Husseyn was gagged and could not answer his master’s query. The newcomer had remained silent as Omar had brought him in the room, naked, and had let himself be tied without uttering a word.
- This man is a gambler, Omar explained. He’s been living all his life off his gains. But it seems lately, he’s lost his touch. Or maybe he’s not so good at cheating as he used to be? Is that true, Richard?
The old westerner just grunted.
- Ah, I see that you try and remain silent. And well you do. You see, chibani, Richard here lost a lot of money at my friend Ali’s gambling place. And I mean a lot. There’s no way he could repay it. So I offered to repay his debt if he could prove to be a real man and take everything I could throw at him for four days without uttering a certain word. If he can hold it out, he’ll walk away from here a free man and his debts paid for. If he can’t, then his debts will still be paid, but he’ll have to stay here as my slave. You know what that means, don’t you, chibani?
And then, without further ado, Omar began spanking Richard. Big, strong slaps the sound of which echoed through the mostly empty room. Husseyn had often been spanked by Omar – oh, the shame, an old man like him punished like a little boy – and he knew Omar was being relatively gentle. After about fifteen minutes, Richard’s bottom was quite red already and Richard himself was breathing heavily, his brow covered in sweat. Omar finally stopped.
- So, my dear Richard, how was that for starters?
- Was that the worst you can do? Richard answered in a hoarse voice. Why, I’ve got worse from the Head when I was a schoolboy.
Husseyn couldn’t believe his ears. This old man was defying Omar. He was either very tough or very foolish. Or both.
- I’m sure your “Head” was a very fair man who wouldn’t have spanked a young boy without a good reason, Omar said.
Richard chuckled :
- I was a very troublesome little boy.
- I’m sure you were, Omar said. And you’ve turned into a very troublesome man. You robbed Ali’s father blind for years. And then Ali himself. You deserve to be punished for all that trouble you gave them.
- Do your worst, Richard answered. I can take it. And you’d better enjoy yourself while you can, because in four days, I’ll be walking away from here.
- If you do, that’ll be with a very sore bottom, Omar grinned.
He walked to the cupboard where he kept his “toys” and took out a nasty-looking cane. Husseyn winced. Omar had only used it on him once, when he had been very angry at him for some reason. After three hits of the cane, Husseyn would have done absolutely anything to stop the stinging pain.
Omar had seen the glint of recognition in Husseyn’s eyes :
- Ah, I see that you remember that cane, chibani. Oh, but excuse me, Richard, I haven’t introduced the two of you. Chibani, or Husseyn, as he used to be called, is my slave. He was sold to me by his son.
- By his son? Richard gasped. That’s awful!
Richard looked at Husseyn for the first time. Husseyn was taken aback. He couldn’t be sure what the westerner was feeling at the moment but he was pretty sure it was pity – and he couldn’t stand it. Husseyn didn’t want anybody to feel sorry for him.
But that look in Richard’s eyes didn’t last long. Omar had started hitting him with the cane. Richard gasped, moaned in pain. Omar was clearly enjoying himself. You could see the bulge in his shorts getting bigger.
- My dear, dear Richard, Omar said while still caning Richard’s exposed buttock, why do you make it so difficult for yourself? I am not a cruel man, really… Well, not so cruel that I can watch an older man suffering and do nothing to alleviate his pain…
Husseyn chuckled silently. He knew very well how Omar would alleviate the pain that he inflicted on him on an almost daily basis. He would fuck his sore bottom until his asshole was even more sore than his buttocks.
- And why bother, Omar went on,  going through all this torment for four days when you well know that even if you manage not to say the word now, you’ll be in debt again in a few weeks? And you’ll have to go through the whole ordeal all over again… And again… You’ve lost your touch, old man! You might as well admit it and say the word now.
(To be continued)

Thursday, 21 July 2016

Colonel Strong Used


Colonel Strong was retired. He was retired, dammit! He was no longer a high-ranking officer in the American army, so he should have been safe traveling abroad. So why had those two men broken into his hotel room at night and tied him up?
It was only when the two men started taking their clothes off that he realized this had nothing to do with him being a retired army colonel and everything with him being a hot white-haired and white-bearded grandad. They were going to have him and use him for their pleasure!

Friday, 15 July 2016

Double Bind


The title is a rather too obvious pun. I didn't have a lot in mind when I drew this, except that the two men who find themselves tied together are actually not on the best of terms. Why? I'm not quite sure. I think the one with the beard might be some kind of outlaw biker or might be involved with some illegal business, and the mustached guy is the local sheriff, who's been after him for quite awhile. But now it seems both men have fallen into the hands of someone who wants to make use of their hot bodies. Who knows? Maybe they'll learn to enjoy each other's company. They don't have much of a choice.

Tuesday, 5 July 2016

Biker Kidnapped


“Ah, so you are awake at last, gringo.  Is good.”
The fat driver had lit a cigarette. He looked at Reb who could only mmmnff in his gag.
“Oh, better not even to try and speak, gringo. They’ve wrapped you up fine, like a neat little package. So that’s what I’m being paid for – to deliver the package.”
He took a long puff on his cigarette. Reb could only wonder who was this fat little greaser.
“You do not like me, eh, gringo? You are disgusted by my sight, I can see it in your eyes. But you’d better be nice to me. You see…”
He took on another puff.
“You see, the men who handed you over to me, they don’t really care what I do with you as long as you’re out of their way. I think you know who they are and why they want you out. I think you also realize you are lucky to be alive.”
Reb couldn’t believe it. So those mafia thugs had finally decided to move onto his territory? Fucking idiots. They would soon realize he was only the most visible part of a big opposition.
“They don’t want things to get messy – yet. Your disappearance should be a warning to others. So I really can do whatever I want with you.”
The fat driver had paused to let the information sink in. Of course, Reb thought, that guy could do whatever he wanted. Even kill him. But for some reason, Reb thought that’s not what the fat greaser had in mind. It would have been so simple to drop him at the bottom of a lake while he was still out. That dope the guys had slipped him was powerful stuff. He must have been out for hours.
“You are a very handsome man, gringo. I know people who’ll pay good money for a man like you. They are very discreet. The people who want you out of the way won’t know you are alive, they won’t know where you are.”
The fat driver had finished his cigarette. He threw away the butt.
“In fact, not even you will know where you are. But be patient, we aren’t there yet.”
The man closed the back doors of the truck and Reb found himself once again in complete darkness. Then he felt the truck start.