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.