Date: Sat, 18 Sep 2004 11:42:14 +0000
From: kitty h <kittyha56@hotmail.com>
Subject: Robin's Fall

Any comments to kittyh55@hotmail.com with "robin" in the heading


ROBIN'S FALL


Robin rang the bell for a third time.  No one came.  He stamped his foot
with irritation; just wait until he found Jomo, he'd give him a good
beating!  Yes, a good beating with his belt.  He loved that, especially
when he made Jomo drop his shorts first.  And afterwards, of course, the
house-boy would suck his willy, even though he did not wish to.

Robin rang again.  Nothing.  He left his room anxious to find the
missing house-boy and thrash him as he had done so many times before.
He went into the kitchen.  No one.  He went across to the native
quarters.  Empty!  With sinking heart he realised the household servants
had fled.  It could mean only one thing, the rebels were in the area.
And there he was, a mere lad, on his own, with no protection.  What to
do?  He decided to hide in the secret basement, his uncle had
constructed for just such an eventuality.

One hour.  Two hours, then he heard the sound of many feet and the crash
of furniture as the station quarters were ransacked.  Robin waited.  The
rebels went away; silence returned to the station.  Robin remained
hidden.  Another hour.  He continued to wait.  Help would come, surely!
Then he heard it, a faint noise above his head.
	"Are you there, bwana?"  It was the familiar voice of his personal
boy, Jomo.  Soon the two boys were united.  The black-boy stared at his
white master.  Was there a hint of triumph in his eyes?  If so, Robin
didn't notice; he was too frightened, and too relieved to find help at
hand.
	"Come with me, quickly" hissed Jomo.  "They are coming back, and
this time they will find you.  You must escape now."

What could Robin do but follow his house-boy's advice.  He looked at the
lad, his hard body glistening in the faint light.  He was in a loin-
cloth, a skimpy loin-cloth.  There was no time to question him.  Nor
could Robin object when the boy ordered him to remove shoes and socks.
Two bare-foot boys walking through the bush would not be tracked, but a
boy in shoes?  There was no gainsaying the bright-eyed lad's instruction.

They walked through the bush for four hours then took shelter.
Throughout the day they watched, then moved on.  The member of the
ruling-race and his "faithful" servant; already Robin was composing his
letter of recommendation which would bring Jomo his medal.  Little did
he realise!  But then he was so used to telling the boy what to do - and
punishing him when he failed to satisfy.  How could Robin know that he
was about to experience a reversal of roles.

They came at last to Jomo's people.  The thorn bush hedge protected from
lions and other undesirables those who lived within.  Jomo gave the
tribal call, and was answered.  They rose and walked into the compound
together, the black boy in his little leather loin-cloth and the white
boy, still in his imperial whites, though minus his shoes and socks.

The chief, a huge black man, came out of his hut, in one hand he carried
the fly whisk symbol of his authority, in the other a short, vicious
looking whip.  Behind him were the warriors, tall silent, near-naked men,
each armed with spears and shield.

Robin stepped forward.  "I am the District Officer's nephew, and this is
my boy.  We seek your shelter and protection until the rebels pass."

	"We know who you are, boy."

The use of the word boy was a deliberate, calculated insult.  Robin
stared hard at the chief, the chief stared back.  It was against custom;
natives always lowered their eyes when addressing a white man.

	"Look, you don't seem to understand.  If you protect us, my uncle
will reward you."

The chief laughed.  His men laughed.  Suddenly Robin felt very
frightened and very alone.  He turned to Jomo for support.  There was a
hardness, a triumph in the lad's eyes that bode ill.  Had the boy
betrayed his master?

A wave and the group now including the two boys returned to the council
hut.  The men retreated to the far end and fell to discussion.  The boys
waited by a sturdy wooden post set in the middle of the room.  Robin
noted with alarm the pair of chains and manacles which hang from the top
of the post.
	"What's going on?" whispered the lone white boy.
	"They are deciding what to do with you" replied Jomo.

The chief rose as did two of his younger warriors who came across and
stood either side of the luckless white-boy.
	"You are charged with bad acts on my nephew, Jomo.  What do you
say, white-boy?"

	"You can't do this to me!" shouted Robin, stamping his bare-foot
on the packed earthen floor.  "I am the District Officer's nephew!" he
screamed.

For answer, the chief simply gave a slight nod of his head and instantly
the two guards sprang on the lad.  In an attack furious in its violence
Robin had his clothes quite literally ripped from his body.  In seconds
he was naked and exposed before the grinning natives.  Instinctively, he
reached down to cover his private parts, but his hands were grabbed and
his arms raised to be secured to the manacles.  There he was manacled
and chained, his naked body exposed and vulnerable.  The shame of it.
Robin blushed red, terribly conscious of his exposed penis and balls.
Exposed before blacks!

The chief came closer, his huge stomach pressing against Robin's, a fat,
near-naked native rubbing up against England's pride.  He reached
between the lad's legs and grabbed his balls and gave them such a fierce
squeeze Robin screamed with the pain.
	"Did you hurt my Jomo?"
	"Nooo.  Nooo.  I didn't."
	"Liar!" cried Jomo, his eyes bright with revenge.  "The white-boy,
he beat me many times for no good reason.  And made me suck his ..."
(He used an Ashanti word for penis.)  He is a ntanga"  (he used another
Ashanti word, this one roughly translating as licker of boys's arses.)
	"Is that true" persisted the chief, squeezing Robin's balls even
harder.  "Did you use him like that?"
	"No!  I didn't."
	"The truth will now be whipped out of you."

The chief released the captive balls and returned to his council seat.
Robin watched with horror as the two young warriors armed themselves
each with a long springy wand.  And then without warning they began to
whip him.  Two, three times they struck hard across his naked thighs,
cutting his cock into the bargain.  Robin screamed with agony and spun
round to face the post, desperate to save his penis.  Now his young bum
was presented to view, and was whipped.  The pain was almost as bad.  He
screamed, again and again, until he could bare it no longer.
	"I admit it!  I admit it!  Please stop them.  Pleeese!"

A nod from the chief and the beating stopped.
	"Answer before the elders.  Did you beat him?"
	"Yes." sobbed Robin.
	"And did you make him suck your ..."  (That word again.)
	"Yessss.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  Please let me go.  I promise
I'll never do it again."
	His replies were translated to the assembled council.
	"Your guilt is known, the council now decides your punishment"
announced the chief.

There was much discussion.  Two of the elders came over to inspect the
boy.  One of hem even poked a finger up Robin's tight bum-hole.
	"Please" the lad pleaded.
	The old man just gave a toothless grin before returning to the
council to report his findings.  At last after much discussion,
judgement was reached.  Robin was released from the whipping-post and
forced to kneel before the chief.  All he could see was the man's huge
penis; it was as large as an elephant's, a huge ebony dong with a purple
knob; never had Robin seen a cock like it, it was terrifying in its
massiveness.  A hand grabbed Robin by the hair and pulled his head back
until he was forced to look into the cruel eyes of his captor.

	"The council has decided.  You will be known from now as Ogfu,
which in our language means cock-sucker.  And you will prove your name,
here and now.  When your mouth is full of Ashanti juices, you will then
be taken by Jomo to the boys's hut.  And when they have finished with
you, you will be sold to the Arab slave-traders.  White boys fetch a
high price in the slave-markets of the Timbuktu."
	"Noo.  Please. Nooo!" the lad pleaded.  "I'll pay anything, do
anything, but please do not sell me."
	"But you are worth so much, with your tight little virgin bum-
hole" responded the chief as he rubbed his burgeoning dong.  "An Arab
prince will pay much gold for an English boy."

Hands pressed Robin back down until his mouth was pressed against the
huge rod of pleasure the chief had taken from his lion-cloth.  Try as he
could, he could not take it in his mouth, it was just too big.  The
chief merely laughed and ordered him to keep his mouth wide-open, under
threat of a cock-whipping.  And in no time at all he unloaded his balls,
sending streams of salty spunk into Robin's mouth, and all over his face.

Fifteen cocks, some old some young, some big some small, emptied their
contents down the lad's throat until Robin was nearly drowning in spunk.
Truly that day he did earn his title of Ogfu.  Even worse than the
rancid cocks and dripping mouthfuls of spunk, was the utter shame of it.
Robin wished he were dead.  But that was as nothing to what was to come.

                          **********

Still naked and manacled Robin was led on his hands and knees like a dog
across the compound.  A young girl passed them, saw the naked boy, and
burst out into hysterical laughter.  It is a slow business crawling on
hands and knees when you are manacled.  By the time they reached the
boys' hut, there were three more girls and an old woman who followed the
strange procession of fine-limbed black-boy and striped-arse white boy.

At the hut entrance, Jomo gave a command and the girls fled.  Jomo
pushed up the flap and led in his prize.  The boys, all naked as was the
custom in their hut, flocked round, with much laughter and many
questions.  Jomo explained so fast that Robin gathered only a few
phrases like "anything you want, but not up the arse", "to  be sold"
"to the Arabs", "sucked everyone", "like his uncle" (much giggling),
"end up like his aunt" (roars of laughter).

The youngest boy was ordered into the centre of the ring.  A command,
and the lad turned, bent forward slightly and pulled open his arse-
cheeks to expose his hole.  Jomo explained that when a boy did that Ogfu
was to lick the boy's arse-hole.  The boy turned and shook his prickette.
When a boy does that he must accompany him to the piss-place.  Finally
the lad began to wank himself.  "And when a boy does that" went on Jomo,
"you open your mouth, as you did to the council."

There followed an hysterical hour.  Seven boys face-fucked him straight
away, and two repeated the exercise later.  But it was having a white-
boy to lick their arse-holes that was the true prize.  All insisted that
they be licked.  Robin licked all eleven shit-encrusted arse-holes.
Jomo supervised, sending him back to do two deemed insufficiently laved.
By the end, Robin's tongue was brown with dried-shit.  And then they all
took him to the piss-place where they pissed all over him.  The aim was
to get their piss in his open mouth.  Three succeeded totally, all made
got in good shots.

On the second day Ogfu was whipped by the boys in the centre of the
compound, watched by the whole tribe.  Each of the twelve boys
administered ten strokes with the whip.  It took all day to get through
the 120 strokes of the whip and between the sessions, young girls and
old women would come up and play with his willie or just stand around
and make lewd remarks about the naked white-boy.  That night they left
him alone to recover.

The following morning Jomo woke him by the simple expedient of ramming
his sweaty cock in the lad's mouth.
	"Do you want another whipping?  No.  Then suck me you arse-licking
Ogfu!"

Robin's day began with a mouthful of spunk.  Then they took him to a
cabbage patch and made him weed the plot.

By the end of that week Ogfu barely remembered that his real name was
Robin.  The boys took to having their arse-holes licked clean in front
of the girls.  That was the worst part of it, being watched by giggling
girls.  Yet he almost came to love those tight purpled rings which he
licked clean.  He dreamt of arse-holes.  And also of cocks.  The taste
and feel of boy-cock in his mouth was constant.  One kid alone face-
fucked him five times in one afternoon.  Yet there was still the faint
hope his uncle would come and rescue him.  And then he would have his
revenge.

On the following Thursday Jomo came in the heat of the afternoon and
released Ogfu from his manacles, for the first time.  The lad took a
light metal ring and clamped it round Ogfu's cock and balls.  It was
very tight.  From the ring was a long light chain, the lead chain as
Ogfu quickly discovered.  But first a heavy wooden yoke was thrust
across his back and his arms were bent over it and secured.  Suddenly
the manacles seemed desirable!
	"What is your name?" demanded Jomo yanking on the chain.
	"Ogfu, o master."
	"And what does it mean?"
	"Cock-sucker."
	"But you are an arse-licker too.  And the word for that is Ntanga.
So from now on you will be known as Ogfu Ntanga.  Don't forget it!"

As he led Ogfu by the chain across the compound he questioned him about
his hopes for escape.  Robin was too cowered not to admit to his hopes
of rescue.  Jomo laughed.
	"Who knows.  Perhaps your uncle will come and save you.  Perhaps
not."

Robin shuddered.  What did this boy who had betrayed him to his tribe
know?

At the entrance to the maidens' hut, Jomo knocked and waited.  It was
more than his life was worth to enter there.  The door-keeper, an old
crone took the proffered chain.
	"Go with her and see what happens to white-trash who touch our
women."

Inside the shadowy hut the tribe's virgins lived until marriage.  A
strange half-life of girlish mystery.  No man could enter on pain of
death or worse.  Those captives given to the girls emerged, if they ever
did, changed for life.

A tall naked girl glided across and took him by the chain.
	"Come little white-boy and see what happens to those who attempt
to take our virginity."
	She drew back a leather curtain to reveal his uncle Peter, stark-
naked, chained to a post.  Mind you it took Robin a minute or more to
realise who it was.  They had shaved him all over.  There was not a hair
left on his body.  His wonderful handle-bar moustache had gone for ever.
Each nipple was pierced with a small ring joined by a light chain.
Another ring had been put through his fore-skin, and a chain from that
was attached to the chain between his tits so that every time he moved
cock and tits swung together in painful synchrony.

	"Robin" exclaimed the man.  "What ...?"  The question died on his
lips.
	"That is not his name" said the grim-faced maiden.  "Is it boy?"
	"No Miss" said Robin very quietly.
	"Tell the great District Officer what your name is now."
Robin told him.  The man blinked back a tear; he knew what those words
meant.

The man was released from the post and made to run round the hut much to
the amusement of the assembled girls.  For with every stride his cock
pulled his tits sending shivers of pain through his whole body.  By the
time he returned to where he'd started, his body glistened with sweat.
	"Does your dong hurt" mocked the maiden.  "What a shame.  Here,
let me release you."  She took the ring from his fore-skin and the man
sobbed his thanks.  She began to rub him up as she went on.  "What
happens if this goes hard, cunt-licker?"
	"I get fucked" sobbed the man.
	"Yes.  Up your love-hole."

The man controlled himself, his worm-like prick remained mercifully
small.
	"I wonder what would happen if your nephew sucked you?" the maiden
mused.
	"Please.  No.  Anything but that.  Please."

For answer she pulled on Robin's chain
	"Earn your name, little Ogfu.  Make him hard for us.  Then we can
fuck him again.  Fail and we whip you."

There was no escape.  Ogfu fell to his knees before his sobbing uncle
and began to suck on his penis.  He had learnt much about fellatio in
the previous seven days.  And soon he felt his uncle begin to rise.
Soon his mouth was filled with man-cock.  Robin knelt back, the cock
slid out of his mouth and into general view.

The maiden smiled.  She took the errant prick in her hand, then slapped
it hard.  The man screamed.
	"Now we fuck you" she hissed.

They dragged the man into the centre of the hut and tied him face-down
over a wooden frame.  Then the chief maiden strapped on a huge ebony
dildo.  She played with it lovingly, letting its tip brush against the
unprotected hole.  And then she thrust herself deep inside him with one
mind-searing thrust and fucked the man up his arse-hole whilst his
nephew watched.  Only when the man began to pant and beg for more did
she stop.

She forced Robin to crawl under the block and suck his uncle until he
came.  And then she returned to her task.  When Robin left the hut he
heard his uncle screaming for mercy as girl after girl fucked him up his
ravaged hole.

                          **********


They sold Robin the following day to a passing Arab trader.  He stood
naked and passive whilst the man fingered and poked him, bent him over
and fingered his virgin hole, and otherwise tested the "goods".  A deal
was struck, and the boy was sold.  But before he was handed over, the
chief took him back to his hut.  It was to be the final humiliation.

Beyond in a curtained alcove some one was being fucked.  The climax came
to screams of high-pitched pleasure.  Moments later Jomo emerged.

	"How is the bitch?"
	"Begging for more black-cock, oh chief.  She can't get enough of
it."
	"And now she is to have some more."

He pushed the curtain aside and ushered Robin through.  His aunt lay
stark-naked on a pile of skins, her legs wide apart, a dribble of Jomo's
spunk dribbling down her inner thigh, a hand playing with her clit.  Her
eyes were closed and on her face was a look of sheer delight.  It
changed to confusion as she saw her naked nephew standing there.

The chief pushed the lad forward.  "Regard boy your prim aunt now.  See
how the proud whites now serve their Ashanti masters."  He turned to her.
"Tell the boy what you are."

She looked up first to the boy and then to the gross black who even now
was playing with his enormous dong.
	"I am, oh chief, whore to the Ashanti."
	"And now you get the ultimate pleasure!" he leered and fell on her
covering her nakedness with his bulk.  He fucked her, up her cunt, up
her arse, until he had her writhing with desire.  She was like an animal
on heat - no shame, just naked lust.  And as she writhed to her third
orgasm of the day, she screamed her lust to the skies.  And she then
watched with moans of pleasure as the big black forced Robin to lick him
clean.  That sound was to stay with Robin on the long march across the
desert, and beyond.
                          **********
                            ******
                              ***