Date: Wed, 2 Mar 2016 20:27:50 +0000 (UTC)
From: Koos Smit <kooss@rocketmail.com>
Subject: BEACH FRONT BOY CHAPTER 14

Beach Front Boy

Part 14

The big launch came alongside at the wooden jetty and we stepped ashore.
At the point where the jetty met the beach the boys who had swum ashore
were waiting for us, their wet sarongs now knotted around their waists.
They joined us, chattering and laughing happily as we set off along the
path to the villa.

The path wound around many beautifully designed thatched bungalows set in
lush landscaped gardens before coming to the main complex: a large double
volume thatched building that housed various dining and entertainment
facilities and overlooked a giant shallow swimming pool with a large island
bar built into the centre.

Here and there as we walked along I noticed big, tough-looking, men with
crew-cuts and shouldered assault rifles, wearing sun-shades and hunting
jackets, hanging about unobtrusively but alertly in shady corners.  I
realised these must be some of the `guns' that Andre had spoken of.

Lined up on the wooden deck to greet us were eight handsome young boys
wearing nothing but the African equivalent of the sarong, the colourful
kikoy.  They were all deeply tanned, and had the lithe leanness that comes
with healthy diet and hard physical exercise ... or labour ... in a
tropical climate.  Four of them had the dark complexion, hair and eyes
typical of the Portuguese.  Of the rest, one had sandy hair, two were
blonde and one brawny youngster was a fiery ginger.  Their eyes were
various shades of blue or grey.  It was obvious that these were the slave
boys that Andre had spoken of.

As we came up to them I could see that their perfect bodies bore many
long-healed surface scars; the indelible imprint of their years as the
slaves of a savage warlord.  As is often the case, the scars seemed to
enhance their attractiveness, perhaps because the boys seemed to wear them
with pride, rather like badges attesting to their toughness and courage.

`Bem-vindos a nossa casa! (Welcome to our home)', the biggest boy said,
stepping forward and offering his hand, a broad white-toothed smile
lighting up his handsome face.

`Obrigado (Thank you)', I replied, with one of the few Portuguese words I
had picked up from Pedro back in Durban.

I saw that the boy had the word `Aleixo' tattoed on his left breast.  He
noticed my glance and tapped it with a finger:

`Nome meu ... uh ... me ... name ... Aleixo', he explained. He pronounced
it `Alaysho'.

I then noticed that all of the boys had their names tattooed on the left
breast,

Andre laughed:

`I tried name tags around the neck but they kept getting lost, so the boys
had the idea of tattooing their names: problem solved!'

Aleixo and another boy with `Marco' tattooed on his breast each took me by
a hand and led me off to a bungalow edging onto the beach that had been
allocated to me.  Their hands were strong and hard, like their bodies,
which had barely an ounce of fat to separate skin and muscle.  I realised
that the sexual gratification of the guests was not their only function at
the beach villa.  This was confirmed when I later learned that the boys
also worked hard at keeping the gardens in good shape and at growing
vegetables in the cultivated fields that backed onto the villa.

The Skobbejak boys were led off by the rest of the Inhaca boys to the long
bunkhouse between the villa and the vegetable fields where they themselves
lived when they were not sharing the beds of the guests.

The two boys showed me over the air-conditioned bungalow, explaining where
everything was and how things worked in a mixture of Portuguese, broken
English and hand gestures.  Marco started running water into the big round
sunken Jacuzzi that served for a bath, nodding smilingly as I indicated
that I did not want to bath right now.  Aleixo unknotted my sarong and
tossed it into the laundry basket, fetching a fresh kikoy from a drawer and
draping it over a chair.  As it seemed I was not getting through to them, I
decided to just go with the flow.  Later I realised that they understood
perfectly well but pretended they did not whenever they wanted to get their
way.

I sat naked on a comfortable chair on the veranda, looking out over the bay
and at Skobbejak, wandering what Dirk and Jul were up to as I sipped at a
drink that Aleixo had rustled up and waited for the tub to fill.

After a while Aleixo and Marco both came out and gestured for me to come
inside.  The boys had removed their kikoys and the perfection of their now
completely naked bodies took my breath away.

Both boys had rich brown eyes and shiny black hair shaved on the sides and
longer on the top and back, rather like a pony's mane.  Their skin was
smooth and hairless, tanned a deep glowing mahogany all over and, but for
the many and various scars, would have been flawless.  They were both
well-developed physically and their 13 year-old cocks were already
half-erected in anticipation.

They led me to the bubbling tub, now filled to the brim with warm foamy
water scented with bath salts.  They watched as I stepped in, settled down
into the built in seat and relaxed in the burbling water.  I lay back and
closed my eyes.  In a minute or two I became aware of Aleixo perching
himself on the rim of the tub behind my head, with his legs in the water on
either side of me as he poured shampoo on the top of my head and began to
work it through my hair, massaging my scalp with his strong fingers as he
did so.  The feeling of relaxation was indescribable as every vestige of
tension drained out of my body at the gentle but firm probing of the boy's
fingers.  Then, with my eyes still closed I became aware of Marco slipping
into the water and, kneeling on the bottom of the tub, lifting my one foot
up to his chest.  He squirted liquid soap over my foot and leg and started
massaging it into a lather.  Once he had washed my feet, he took my toes
one by one into his mouth and worked them with his lips and his tongue
while massaging the ball, instep and heel with his strong hard fingers.

As I surrendered myself to the pampering of the two boys I was overcome
with a kind of paralysis of pleasure that I did not want to stop.

Soon Aleixo had finished shampooing my hair and his hands moved down the
back of my neck and then onto my shoulders and chest, soaping and kneading
tired and knotted muscles as they went.  At the same time Marco had moved
onto my calves and was slowly soaping and massaging his way up my legs.  By
the time he reached my thighs my cock was standing up straight and hard
under the water.

Now Aleixo motioned for me to stand up and as I did so he slipped into the
water behind me.  I felt his bone-hard cock bouncing a line down my back as
he did so.  He immediately started soaping my back, working down slowly
onto my buttocks and into my crack.  Marco was by now soaping my cock and
balls, sliding his slippery hands up, down and around my straining shaft
and then down onto my balls in a rapid, fluid, series of motions.

Soon I felt Aleixo's hard soapy finger probing at my butthole. I noticed
that his other hand held a brass nozzle at the end of a rubber hose
attached to a bath mixer.  I relaxed my sphincter to ease his access.  He
probed around sensuously for a while and then withdrew his finger to
replace it immediately with the rounded head of the nozzle.  He turned the
tap and a gentle stream of tepid water flushed into my channel.

When Aleixo had sluiced me thoroughly, he turned his attention to cleaning
out first his own and then Marco's channel.

Then the boys towelled me dry and liberally sprayed me, and themselves,
with eau de cologne.  The three of us stood and looked each other over.  We
were all fully erected and I was pleased to see that both Aleixo and Marco
were very well-equipped for their profession.  I reached out to cup my
fingers under their pendulous ball bags and bounced them up and down
playfully.  The boys giggled delightedly and Aleixo returned the favour.

I put an arm around the neck of each boy and drew them in to me, bending to
kiss first one and then the other.  Each one instantly opened his lips and
engaged my tongue with his as he wrapped his strong young arms around me
and pressed his hard young body against mine.  They had the fresh subtle
taste of oyster and my cock hardened even more at the electric touch of
their tongues.

An hour later, having plumbed the moist, warm and welcoming depths of both
ends of both boys, the three of us were in the shower together, rinsing off
the sweat and detritus of the most passionate and energetic boy sex that I
had enjoyed in a few days.  Afterwards we walked naked, my arms around
their necks, across the lawn down to the white sand of the beach where we
found the Skobbejak boys romping in the calm waters together with some of
the guests and some of the boys of the villa, all of them also naked.

Johan and Ben spotted me and came running up.  They stopped in front of us
with feet apart and fists on hips, left foot leading in a stance of naked
aggression.

`Hallo Uncle Jonathan', Johan said, unsmiling, his jaw set and his blue
eyes hard and slitted as he glared at first one and then the other of my
two companions.  Ben just glared.

It suddenly struck me that the Skobbejak boys probably regarded me as
pretty much their exclusive, though collective, property, and might quite
likely object to sharing me with strangers.  I was also aware that Johan
and Ben in particular, as the very first boys I had ever had sex with, felt
they had a special proprietary claim to my affections.  And there was
indeed a special relationship between us for that reason.

I felt a sudden warm glow for my two favourite Afrikaner boys.  There was a
compelling beauty in their muscular machismo, young as they were, their
aggressive possessiveness and their bristling hostility toward perceived
rivals that I found deeply arousing.

`Hallo, boys', I said, unwinding my arms from the Portuguese boys' necks
and stepping forward to hug Johan and Ben to me.

`These are Aleixo and Marco', I said to them, and to the Portuguese boys I
said: `These are two of my many sons: Johan and Ben'.

The Portuguese boys eyed Johan and Ben up and down in frank admiration.
Their eyes sparkled with a hint of lust and Aleixo actually licked his lips
as his gaze wandered down Johan's muscular body, and became fixed on,
Johan's prodigious cock and balls.

Knowing that Johan and Ben always responded best to honesty, I explained:

`We've just been having a fuck in my bungalow'

`Hmm!' said Johan, and then:

`They any good?'

`Very good!', I said.

Johan slitted his eyes.

`Not as good as you and Ben though!', I said softly between frozen lips,
rather like a ventriloquist (I was not sure how much Aleixo and Marco might
understand of what I was saying).

The blonde pair brightened up immediately.  Both of them stepped forward
and extended a hand to the Portuguese boys.

`Why don't you take Aleixo and Marco to my bungalow and have some fun with
them yourselves?', I said to Johan and Ben.

`Will they do it?' asked Johan.

`Yes, of course', I said, `You guys are guests here like me ... they must
do whatever you want'.

`Cool!' said Johan, `Anything?'

`Sure!', I replied.

`What if they won't?', Ben piped up.

Andre strolled up at that moment and answered Ben's question:

`Then you make them!', he said.

`How?', Johan asked.

Andre chuckled.

`Hanging up behind the bedroom door you will find a selection of things
that you can use to punish them until they do what you want them to do.'

`You mean we allowed to whip them?', asked Johan.

`Yes indeed', Andre replied.

Johan looked over the Portuguese boys with new interest.  His cock began to
swell and harden and I felt momentarily sorry for the Portuguese boys.
Johan was definitely going to find a reason to whip them.

Johan and Ben each took the hand of one of the Portuguese boys and led them
back over the lawn to my bungalow, chattering to them in a mixture of
English and Afrikaans.

The last thing I heard before they moved beyond earshot was Johan saying
emphatically to Aleixo:

`No, Aleixo! Ben `n me gonna fuck you and Marco now, okay?

`Okay', Aleixo replied meekly.

`If I know Johan', I said to Andre, `Aleixo and Marco are going to get a
brisk whipping before the morning is out!'

`Likes the BDSM, does he?', chuckled Andre, `Boy after my own heart!'

`Yes ... though, actually he likes getting it almost as much as he likes
dishing it out!', I said.

`Excellent, he looks a nice strong lad ... I'll have a job for him later
this week!  And I really wouldn't worry too much about Aleixo and Marco
... they're pretty much into it themselves.  Wouldn't surprize me if they
actually provoke Johan into giving them a whipping!', said Andre.

`What sort of a job?' I asked.

`Once a week we have Whipping Day, when all the boys who have broken the
rules that week are whipped one by one in our little Roman-style
amphitheatre.  It's usually on Friday.  When we have guests it forms part
of the entertainment we lay on for them ... bit of dancing ... bit of
fighting ... bit of sex ... and the whippings.  Otherwise it's just a
punishment routine.  I'd like Johan to do the whippings', he explained.

`He'd love that', I said, `I'm sure some of my boys would like to feature
in the sex show.  And ... one of my boys is actually a Mixed Martial Arts
champion ... I'm sure he'd love to fight.'

`Great!', said Andre, `Sounds like we'll have a cracking show this week.'

`I look forward to it', I replied.

At dinner that evening I was seated at a table together with an athletic
blonde Ukrainian named Kirill, a short podgy Turk named Haluk and a sallow
thin-lipped Venezuelan named Ramos.  They looked like hard, no-nonsense
men.  I got the feeling they might not be using their own names and they
seemed a little guarded in making conversation with me, although they
obviously knew each other.

`I have not seen you here before', said Haluk, who seemed to be the
chattier of the three, `Is this your first time?'

`Yes', I replied.

`I never miss them', said Haluk, `I have been coming for three years now
and always the quality is excellent!'

The other two nodded their agreement.

`You never miss what?', I asked, but Kirill interrupted, leaning forward to
ask:

`You say you are from South Africa?  Are you from the ship with the South
African boys?'

`Yes, indeed I am' I replied

`South African boys are best quality', said Kirill, `Especially white
Afrikaner boys.  Beautiful bodies.  Hard and strong.  Very physical.  Very
sexual.  And they take the whip so well!  Not like the Latino boys
... excuse me if I say so Ramos, I mean no insult ... but thirty lashes
across a Latino boy's back and he screams like a girl and wants to go lie
in the infirmary for a few days.  My Afrikaner boys do not scream and they
go bleeding straight back to work!'

`No offence taken', Ramos said, `What you say is true!  The Nordic boys are
a strong-backed race.  I wish they were not so scarce.'

`Yes, and they are very easy to control.', said Kirill, `They are
well-disciplined and respectful.  Although they can be very hard-necked and
independent, they have been brought up to submit to authority.  Like my own
people.  And like the Germans.  The trick is to get them to see you as the
paterfamilias rather than as the master.  Once you do that they forget they
are slaves and they will do anything for you!  And you must use their
physicality ... they love to compete with their bodies ... that is why they
excel at sports like rugby: always trying to show they are the strongest,
the fastest and the toughest ... if you use that properly you have them
competing about who can work the hardest or the longest hours, who can take
the severest whipping, who can take the most cocks and the hardest fucking.
They're having so much fun competing that they forget they are not free to
do anything else.  Actually, they don't want to do anything else.

`Indeed', Haluk affirmed, `I have just one, and he is very much in demand!
I paid Andre a lot of money for him 6 months ago but already he has made
back my investment ten times over ... and I am talking about the landed
cost, including shipping and documentation costs!'

`What documentation?' asked Kirill, `You should never get your boys
documented!  No passport, no identity, no travel, no escape!'

`Yes, yes! I know that Kirill!' Haluk replied, `By "documentation costs" I
mean what it cost me to get him into the country without documentation!  Do
you think me an idiot?'

As I was wondering what on earth they were talking about, Johan came up
behind me and leaned his folded arms on my shoulders with his chin resting
on his arms.  Then he dropped his arms over my shoulders onto my chest and
slid his hard brown hands over my abdomen to probe absently down the front
of my kikoy.  All the while his steady blue eyes studied the other men at
the table.

`Hallo Johan', I said, `Did you and Ben have a good time with Aleixo and
Marco?'

`Yes thank you, Uncle Jonathan, I had to give them both a good whipping but
after that they did what they was told!'

I felt his big cock hardening at the memory where it poked through the open
back of the chair against my bare back.

`You had to, hey?'. I chuckled

The other three men stared almost open-mouthed at Johan's smooth, hairless,
muscular perfection.

`Is this yours?', asked Kirill, his eyes glinting with lust.

`Yes', I replied.

`This is exactly what I was just talking about', said Kirill, his sarong
tenting in his lap, `A perfect Afrikaner boy!'

Johan practically purred with pleasure and pride, both at the compliment
and the attention he was getting.  He straightened up and moved to stand
next me, leaning into me, one elbow on my shoulder and the other hanging
down by his side as he flaunted his prodigiously erected cock for my
companions to admire.

`Come here, boy!' Kirill ordered, `Come stand next to me, I want to get a
better look at you'.

Johan looked at me.  I nodded permission and he went round the table to
stand next to Kirill.

Kirill pushed his chair out and sat looking over Johan's body with naked
lust for a while before reaching out to slide his hands over and around
Johan's muscled thighs, down the back of his legs onto his bulging calves
and then up again over his buttocks, onto the ripped ridges of his back and
then onto his chest before sliding down Johan's belly to take hold of his
swollen, bobbing fuck pole.  Johan closed his eyes and shuddered with
pleasure as he surrendered to Kirill's touch.  Kirill drew Johan toward
him.  Johan went up onto his toes, yanked Kirill's sarong open and then
climbed onto Kirill's lap.  Johan faced up at Kirill, one big hand cupped
around the back of Kirill's neck.  Johan pulled himself up to clamp his
open mouth over Kirill's, and began to tongue the Ukrainian vigorously.  He
reached his other hand down to pull at Kirill's straining cock.  Then,
sensing Kirill's desires with the intuition of a practised rent boy, Johan
slipped his tongue out of Kirill's mouth, bent his head down and spat a
thick gob of saliva into his hand.  He slathered it over Kirill's cockhead
before raising himself on Kirill's thighs and reaching behind him to guide
Kirill's cockhead into his fuckhole.  Soon he was bouncing vigorously on
Kirill's lap, every muscle in his back, buttocks and legs bunching and
writhing as he fucked himself on the Ukrainian's thick shaft.

Every eye in the crowded dining room was fixed enviously on the brawny
blonde boy fucking his heart out on the muscular Ukrainian's long shaft.
The air was electric with sexual energy and every single cock in the room
was hard and leaking precum.

Then suddenly Johan's body stiffened and went into spasm as he reached
orgasm.  His deliciously throbbing cock jetted thick spurts of hot white
cum against Kirill's chest and neck.  His spasming anus and clenching
buttocks propelled Kirill over the top.  Kirill bellowed as he ejaculated
deep inside Johan's cum trap.

The whole dining room burst into applause at the performance.  Johan
beamed, red-faced from both pride and exertion, as he revelled in the
admiration, even raising a hand in acknowledgement with Kirill's erected
cock still inside him.  As he stood up, Kirill's cock slurped out of
Johan's hole and flopped wetly against Kirill's hard flat belly as a stream
of Kirill's cum ran out of Johan's still gaping hole and trickled down the
inside of a muscled thigh.

`That was fucking amazing, boy', Kirill said to Johan as Johan bent over to
slurp the cum off Kirill's twitching cock, `And such good manners to clean
your client's cock without being told!'

All over the room food was going cold on unattended plates as men were
calling out for Johan to come and fuck them.  Flushed with pride and
success Johan went from table to table to pleasure his newest and most
ardent fans as the rest of the company either fingered their cocks and
hoped to be favoured next or grabbed the nearest boy to service their
needs.

Encouraged by Johan's example, the other Skobbejak boys were also getting
in on the act and soon dinner had turned into a general orgy.

Kirill turned to me:

`You have trained your boy well.' he said, `What is his name ... Johan, I
think you said?'

`Yes, his name is Johan, but I am afraid I cannot take the credit for
training him.  He was a rent boy when he came to me and he was already very
proficient.  To tell the truth, I learned much from him!', I replied.

`Well, I want him!  Name your price!', said Kirill.

`He is not for sale', I laughed.

`Ah ... I understand ... you expect him to do well on the auction', Kirill
said, `No matter, I will wait for it ... but I intend to have him!'

`What do you mean?  What auction?'

The three men looked at me, puzzled.

`Did you not come for the auction?', asked Ramos.  Then, turning to his
companions with a worried look, `I understood there would be only dealers
here?'

`What auction?', I repeated.

Kirill looked at me suspiciously:

`Why are you here?', he demanded.

`I was invited by Andre', I replied, puzzled at the reactions of my dinner
companions, `We are negotiating a business deal'

`Ah!', said Kirill, relaxing visibly, `You must be the man Andre was
telling us about!'

`Oh yes!', said Ramos, `The man with the sailing ship who is bringing boys
for the slave auction!'

I tried to stifle the feeling of rising panic that threatened to expel what
I had just eaten onto my lap.  Once again I wondered what I gotten
ourselves into with Andre.  I suddenly realised I knew nothing about him
and that I may be in over my head with these people.  I decided that
discretion was the better part of valour and tried to think of a deflecting
answer.

But my three companions had already turned their attention to the orgy that
was in full swing in the dining room.  I mumbled an excuse about having to
go somewhere that none of them even heard and I quickly went looking for
Andre.

I found him in the pub, talking to the men he had introduced as potential
investors.

`Ah Jonathan!', he called out, `Come join us!'

`Actually, I just need to have a quick chat with you in private, if you
don't mind!' I said.

He looked at me a moment and, realising that I was serious, got off his
stool and said to his companions:

`You guys continue enjoying yourselves, I'll be back in a minute.'

He led me to a private office behind the reception desk and closed the
door.

`What's up, Jonathan?' he asked, `It looks serious!'

`It is!' I replied, `What the hell is going on here?  I've just been told
by some shady-looking foreigners in there that you're having a slave
auction here, and that I supposedly shipped some of the merchandise here on
Skobbejak!'

`Okay, okay, I apologise!' said Andre, `I should have been more open with
you ... but you know I hardly know you and I wasn't sure I could trust
you!'

`Well, coincidentally, I have just been thinking exactly the same thing
about you!' I replied, `You better fill me in right now on what's going on
here!'

`Look', he said, `I'm a businessman, as I already told you.  I source boys
cheaply who are destitute and alone ... sometimes in really desperate
circumstances ... and I bring them here for about six months.  I heal them,
look after them and train them to provide a service that is in great demand
all over the world.  Every six months or so I have an auction here at the
villa and I sell the boys on for a fat profit to patrons from ... South
America, the Middle East, Eastern Europe ... everywhere.  The boys they buy
go to upmarket boy brothels in Moscow, Caracas, Buenos Aires, Cairo or
Ankara, to name a few.  Or they become porn stars, or they become the
personal toyboys of Arab sheikhs or Russian billionaires.  Yes, they are
slaves, but they are infinitely better off than they were.  Must I feel
guilty that I make a lot of money out of it?'

I looked at Andre, astonished.

 `And yes', he added, `There will be an auction while you're here.  The
villa boys have all been here six months now and it's time for them to move
on or the holding cost becomes too high.  All the other guests are actually
here specifically for the auction.  They are regulars who come once or
twice a year to buy new stock.  They spend the week having a bit of fun
trying the boys out so they know exactly who they want when they bid at the
auction.'

`So this is the "hospitality training" and the "overseas opportunities" you
were talking about in Richards Bay?' I said.

`Oh yes indeed', he replied.

`And you had the gall to offer those "opportunities" to my boys!'

`Certainly!' he replied, unapologetically, `Obviously it's not for
everyone, but I know that you have pulled some of your boys out of the
gutter, and maybe they would welcome the opportunity of going overseas and
becoming the personal fuck toy of some multi-millionaire!'

I looked at him in silence for a moment as I digested this information.
Actually, he had a point.  The boys I had rescued from the gutter had an
interesting and comfortable, though hardly luxurious, life at sea.  They
had a `family' that cared for them, they were safe, they ate well and they
slept warm and dry.  But perhaps they could do far better with some of
Andre's clients.

`Look at Derek and Rikus, for example.  When their probation is up they
will just go back on the streets.  Don't you think they might prefer a
chance at something better?'

`Perhaps', I said, `But that is a bridge I will cross when the time comes!'

`Well, not necessarily', Andre said, `You could put them on the auction
now.  They will fetch a very good price, you know, South African boys are
in great demand!'

`So I hear!' I replied, `But even if I wanted to, I have a responsibility
to return them to the State in due course.'

`Don't you know how it works?  My goodness, you have a lot to learn!' said
Andre, `Our mutual friends, Magistrate Carter and Sergeant Scholtz, have
already made them disappear off the system.  No one expects them back, I
promise you!  In fact, if you actually took them back it would cause
absolute consternation.  I promise you that the boys would then genuinely
disappear, just to avoid the embarrassing enquiries that would result!
That's exactly how I get a lot of my boys.  I'm afraid you are either stuck
with them for good or you are going to have to rid of them at some stage.'

`So ... are Derek and Rikus the South African boys you told Kirill and his
buddies I was bringing to the auction?', I asked.

`Well, not actually, although I was going to offer you the opportunity
anyway' he said. `I was actually referring to my nephews'.

If he had hit me with a mallet on the temple I could not have been more
stunned than by this casual revelation.  I thought I had heard wrong.

`You know, I thought I heard you say you were referring to your nephews?',
I managed to say.

Andre looked at me in surprise.

`That's exactly what I did say', he said.

`But Andre!  Your nephews, for crying out aloud!  How can you sell your own
family into slavery?  And such beautiful boys at that!'

`Well, they're perfect candidates for it, as I mentioned just now', he
said, ticking off the criteria on his fingers, `They're destitute
... they're completely alone in the world ... and they're dirt cheap!'

`But they're not alone in the world ... they have you ... their uncle!'

`Yes, well I am not interested in taking responsibility for them, and I
think it would actually be cruel to dump them in a school or an
institution.  I just don't have the time or the interest to take care of
them.  If that makes me a bad person, then so be it!  If I sell them they
get the chance to go off and make themselves useful to someone who will
appreciate them and I get to make a handsome profit off them.'

`Then let me take them', I said, `I am prepared to have them on Skobbejak
at my own cost.  I will even repay the money you have paid me to berth them
for the next six months.'

`You are more than welcome to take them!' Andre said expansively, `Since we
are about to become partners I will even take them off the auction and let
you have them for the reserve price.'

`What is the reserve price?', I asked.

Andre picked up catalogue and slid it across the desk to me.  I felt my
stomach lurch when I saw the price.

`Is that for all three?', I asked, forcing a laugh.

`No, that is per boy', he replied.

My stomach began to cramp as I remembered the promise I had made to Heinke
that I would take care of them and that I would not let anyone harm them.

`Well, that's a bit steep for me right now', I said, trying to sound
off-hand.

Andre looked at me.

`Perhaps we can work something out', he said slowly, `Let me give it some
thought.

I realised that it was not wise to let him know how badly I wanted to take
the three boys.

`Ag, Andre, I don't know', I replied, `We can talk about it tomorrow.
Maybe they're better off with some sheikh after all.'

Andre gave me a searching look.

`You seemed pretty keen on them a moment ago', he probed.

`Ja, well ... I was a bit pissed off that you used me and didn't take me
into your confidence back in Richards Bay', I said.

`Sorry, man, it wasn't personal', he replied.

`Yes, well, if we're going to be partners, you have to be transparent with
me', I said, `And now I'm not so sure that it's going to work, to be
perfectly honest.'

`Don't be like that', said Andre anxiously, `Don't make any hasty decisions
... I promise full disclosure from now on!'

`Well, I'll sleep on it tonight and we'll talk about it in the morning', I
replied.

`Sure', said Andre, `But in the interest of full disclosure can we quickly
talk about that cargo run to the Limpopo River mouth that I need you to do
for me?'

`Let's not jump the gun on that', I said, `We don't know if it's going to
happen yet.  Let's first work out if we're going to have a working
relationship at all.'

`Jeez, Jonathan!', he said, `I didn't know you were that pissed off about
this.  Listen ... take my nephews ... they're a gift from me.  And you can
keep the money I already paid you for them.  But can you please just do
this cargo run?  I need you to leave by tomorrow lunchtime at the latest!
Please, it's really important to me!'

I decided right then and there that I would accept his offer of the three
boys and that I would do the cargo run, however dangerous it might be.  I
felt it was worth it to be able to keep my promise to the boys.  But I
thought I would let him stew on it for the night.

`I don't know, Andre', I said, `I'll think about it overnight and I'll let
you know my decision in the morning.'

`Fuck, are you really going to make me sweat over this?', Andre asked.

`Yes' I replied shortly, `Have a good night.'

As I walked out the front door to the reception area I collided with the
brawny ginger-haired German boy who was entering with Stefan on one side of
him and Heinke on the other.  They were holding hands and giggling, their
eyes on each other's outrageous erections rather than on where they were
going.  They also seemed a little glassy eyed and I smelt the whiff of
alcohol on their breaths.

`Sorry, Sir, Sorry!', said the ginger in a cutely thick German accent.
There was genuine fright in his eyes, which were darting about to see who
may have noticed his clumsiness, and his erection had almost instantly
deflated.

`Sorry, Uncle Jonathan', the other two giggled, rather more relaxed about
it.

`Well ... Rudi ...' I smiled, reading the name tattooed on the boy's
bulging chest, `I think you three must come to my bungalow and let me
punish your arses severely for this clumsiness.'

Rudi grinned his relief and I noticed that his cock was already rapidly
returning to the perpendicular.

I put my arms around their shoulders to pull them together and then steered
the mildly tiddled and exaggeratedly happy Nordic threesome down the path
to my bungalow.

Rather than detracting from their sexual performance, the alcohol seemed to
heighten it.  A playful swatting of their arses for their `misdemeanour'
seemed to propel them into a sexual frenzy that lasted well past midnight
and left all four of us completely exhausted when finally we passed out
together on the huge bed.  I remember thinking at one stage that I should
perhaps consider introducing the old Royal Navy tradition of issuing a
daily rum ration to the crew on Skobbejak!

I woke next morning with all three boys' heads grouped tightly around my
morning erection as they sucked and licked my cock together.

`Aah', I groaned softly with pleasure, `That's how you boys must wake me
every day from now on!'

Stefan pulled his mouth off my cockhead long enough to say: `Aye-aye Cap'n,
we'll write it up in the log!' before slurping it into his warm wet mouth
again.

I blew my load down Stefan's throat before returning the favour while Rudi
and Heinke rocked the bed with a `69' evolution on steroids.

After an equally pleasurable shower that went on so long it emptied the
bungalow's hot water tank, the four of us sauntered naked down the pathway
to the dining room.  Everyone seemed to have the same idea about dress the
second day into our holiday, as there was not a sarong or kikoy in sight.

The moment I stepped into the dining room, Andre came scurrying in to greet
me.  He had obviously instructed the staff to alert him.

`I hope you had a good night?', he asked solicitously.

`We did, thank you", I said, winking at the three boys who had spent it
with me, `And you?'

`You know what kind of a night I had!', Andre said testily, `Have you come
to a decision?'

`I have indeed', I replied.

`Well?', he asked.

He seemed desperate.

`Well, I've decided that right now I'm going to have breakfast, but as soon
as I have finished I will see you in the office and let you know.'

Andre looked as if he wanted to say something but, after a long hesitation,
turned on his heel and stalked out of the dining room.





I got the Skobbejak boys to push together a bunch of tables so we could all
breakfast together.  Rudi, Aleixo and Marco seemed to have taken a shine to
our group and joined us for breakfast. It was obvious that they got on well
with my boys.

After breakfast I told the boys to remain in the dining room and wait for
me to return as I had something important to tell them.

Then I went to see Andre in the office.  He looked up at me nervously as I
entered.

`Right, Andre, I've thought about it and I am prepared both to continue a
business relationship of some sort with you and to do the cargo run to the
Limpopo River.'

Andre was visibly relieved, shutting his eyes and letting out a long sigh
of relief as he put a hand to his forehead and lay back in his chair.

`But there are conditions, and they are not negotiable!' I said.

`Name them! Name them!' Andre said, waving his hands in his customary
expansive style.

`First, you have to promise to be completely open with me in future.  We
have to be able to trust each other if we are to work together.'

`I promise!', he said emphatically.

`Second, you sign over your nephews to me officially as their guardian
... for nothing ... and I keep the money you paid me already.

`Sure!', he said, `That's what I promised last night and I stick with
that!'

He jumped up and offered me his hand.

`We have a deal, partner!', he said.

`Not quite yet ... there's more.  You give me Rudi, Aleixo and Marco too!'

Andre slumped in his seat.

`That's plain robbery!', he complained, `That's not what I offered!'

`I haven't finished', I said, `You keep the three of them here at the villa
for now ... I don't have space for them anyway ... and you use them to help
train the next batch of "hosts".  Plus ... you get your chef to train them
in catering until I come get them.  And you organise South African
passports for them from your buddies in the passport office.'

Andre stared at me for a long while.

`Sorry, Jonathan, that's just a bridge too far', he said finally, `I can't
do that!'

`Well then there's nothing else to discuss', I said, turning on my heel,
`Have a good day!'

`No wait!' he called out, `Okay you called it, I fold.'

`Excellent', I said, turning back.

`Okay, you got a deal, partner', he said, a new respect in his voice.

`Can I at least sell the other slaves?' he asked, mock sarcastically.

`I think you'd better ... I don't want you being taken out by the Russian
mob or anything unpleasant like that!' I replied.

`Can I sell Derek and Wikus?', he asked, flippantly, not expecting me to
agree.

`I'm not making any promises,' I said, `but I may actually let you do that!
... I need to think about it more, though.  I'll let you know before the
auction.'

`Cool!', he said, `Now let's talk about the cargo run'.

                                                                  * * * * *
*

Just before lunchtime Skobbejak weighed anchor in the windless calm that
had persisted from before we had arrived at Inhaca.  Hugging the coastline,
we motored northeast on a course that would put us a few miles south of the
Limpop River mouth by dawn.  With me were Johan, Dirk, Tiaan, Joshua, Jul
and Stefan, whom I had chosen both for their physical strength and their
competence as sailors.  We also carried two of the villa's armed guards
(`just in case ...' according to Andre).

We rigged a makeshift crane amidships and used this to bring two of the
villa's `rubber ducks' on board.  We would be arriving at midnight and
would have to negotiate the sand bars at the entrance before anchoring a
short distance up the river.  The rubber ducks would be used to move the
cargo from shore to ship.  There was a simple system of light signals that
would identify the parties.

The cargo, as I had suspected, was to be a new gang of slave boys and a
parcel of rough diamonds.

`Don't tell me we have to deal with your warlord friend face to face and
hand over cash for this stuff!', I had said to Andre.

`No', he laughed, `Nothing like that!  My agent has already selected both
the diamonds and the boys.  They are paid for.  He has taken delivery.  You
just have to hook up with him and bring the goods home!'

After he handed me a scale and briefed me about the diamonds, I asked:

`How many boys am I picking up?'

`Well ... ten is what I paid for' he said, `They send more because they
travel a long way through the most awful country and some are lost along
the way.  Sometimes there are less than ten.'

`What if there are more than ten?' I asked.

`There won't be', he said, `But if there are, you can take them for
yourself as part payment for the job.'

`Okay' I said.

`So tell me,' I asked, `If that area is so safe, why are we sneaking around
there in the dark and taking armed guards with us?  And remember that we
are in a new era of transparency in our relationship!'

`Well, the reality is that the situation is very fluid.  Right now there is
a truce, we are told, but there is no guarantee that the truce is still
holding by the time you get there.  We just need to limit the risks.'

`In that case', I said, `You'd better give me some weapons for me and my
boys too!'

`Of course!  I would've suggested it myself but I didn't want to alarm
you.'

`You're alarming me now!', I laughed.

That afternoon, as we motored parallel to the coast, we all practised
loading and firing the assault rifles over the rail.  The boys thought this
great fun.

Half an hour before midnight we were approaching the Limpopo River mouth.
We were moving as slowly as we could without actually putting the engine in
neutral.  There were no shore lights to navigate by so we were relying on a
chart, a depth-sounder and my tidal calculations.  Fortunately there was a
full moon that aided visibility somewhat.  We had switched off our own
navigational lights and all other lights, doing our chart work by the dim
red light of an army torch. We negotiated the main channel through the sand
bars without incident and then proceeded about a kilometre up the river
until we came to a point on specified bearings between two flickering oil
lamps set up on shore.  We dropped anchor and made contact through the
agreed light signals.  We put the rubber ducks in the water and waited.

After a while a slim dark shape glided up out of the dark.  It was a dugout
canoe bearing the agent and two paddlers.  The agent, a black Mozambican,
came aboard and handed over a bag of uncut diamonds.  We weighed them on
the scale Andre had given us.  The weight was approximately correct
... Andre had told us not to be too picky about any discrepancy as long as
it was not above a gram or two.

Then we went ashore in the rubber ducks to pick up the boys.  I drove the
one and Johan drove the other.  I left Andre's guards on the ship as space
in the boats was limited.  I took the lead with the agent in my boat and
Johan followed.  We took our rifles with us, cocked with round in chamber
but with safety on.  We wore shorts but no shirt and, as always, we were
barefoot.  As our engines purred quietly a thought suddenly struck me.

`Are there crocodiles?' I asked the agent.

His white teeth flashed in a broad smile as he leaned toward me.

`No', he said.

I was relieved to hear this.

Then he leaned toward me again.

`Sometimes sharks!', the white teeth said.

Soon we came to the point where a huddle of small figures were sitting on
their haunches at the edge of the water.  A few had filthy non-descript
rags around their waists but most were naked.  Behind them stood three
handlers with rifles over their shoulders and long rhino-hide whips in
their hands.  I picked up my rifle and cautiously got out of the boat,
standing in the water beside it in case I had to launch out quickly.

The agent gave instructions to the handlers in a low voice.  The handlers
snarled orders at the boys and immediately started slashing at them
indiscriminately, almost mechanically, with their whips The boys jumped up
and started to move quickly toward the boats, ducking and weaving
automatically to try and avoid the flailing whips.  Although I heard
rhino-hide smacking meatily against boys' backs, buttocks and thighs,
no-one uttered more than a strangled yelp or a muffled grunt, as if to
confirm that the almost frenetic scything was routine.

There were fifteen boys in the group.  Since each boat was meant to take
five passengers, this presented a problem.

`Why fifteen?' I asked the agent, `I was expecting ten!'

`We take fifteen because they come many many miles and some die' said the
agent.  `Sometimes not even ten.  This time boys very strong.  No one die.
I keep five if you no want?'

`No, I'll take them all' I said.

The five extra boys represented a windfall for me.

Not wanting to make a second trip I squeezed all the boys into both boats
and, very low in the water, we set out very slowly for Skobbejak.  We made
it without incident, transferred the boys to the ship, hoisted the boats
aboard, and weighed anchor.

As we nosed our way down the channel to the open sea, Tiaan, Joshua, Dirk
and Jul took the boys below and fed them with the pasta and bolognaise that
they had prepared in the galley for them.  Cowed and bewildered, not really
understanding what was happening to them, they were absurdly grateful for
the simple meal and the orange juice they were given to wash it down with.

Finally we exited the river mouth and headed for the open sea.  As soon as
we were out of rifle range we switched on our lights and opened the
throttle on the engine, there being no wind at all to ruffle the glassy
sea.

With Johan on the helm and Stefan keeping watch I went below to take a look
at the slave boys.  I do not believe I have ever seen such a filthy bunch
of boys.  Andre had told me that he had specifically ordered only blonde,
blue eyed, European boys to meet a specific demand, but it was impossible
to identify the colour of their hair, nor indeed any distinguishing feature
other than the colour of their eyes, which all happened to be various
shades of blue or grey.

`Does anyone speak English?' I asked.

Nearly all of them put up their hands, some tentatively.

`Thank goodness for that!' I said.

They had all finished eating by this time, so I ordered them all up on
deck.  They scrambled to obey, glancing fearfully over their shoulders for
the men with the whips.

With the deck lights turning night into day, I got those who had any
semblance of clothing to strip it off and drop it on the deck.  Jul and
Joshua went about picking it up distastefully, holding it at arm's length
as they carried it.

`Phew!  This stuff stinks!' Tiaan said.'

I told them to throw it all over the side.

`Poor fish!' Jul remarked.

In the meantime Tiaan, Joshua and Dirk brought up the five zinc tubs we had
stacked in the crew's quarters and started filling them with the seawater
deck pump.

When the baths were full the slave boys were made to get in one at a time.
My boys handed them thick blocks of saltwater soap and scrubbing brushes
and supervised the bathing process.  It had clearly been so long since any
of them had had a bath that they were almost uncertain how to do it.
Eventually my boys had to soap and scrub the slave boys themselves.  It was
exhausting work and the slave boys were so filthy that each tub had to be
refilled after just two of them had bathed in it.

Two hours later I went to inspect the results of my boys' labours: What a
transformation they had wrought!

Fifteen boys of European descent greeted my sight.  Lithe and hard-muscled,
every one of them was tanned all over a dark mahogany brown, almost
concealing the scores of whip marks, scars, lacerations and bruises that
covered their bodies.  They were all around the age of 11 to 14. Their eyes
were various shades of blue or grey and their hair colour ranged from dirty
yellow to white-blonde. Most had no body hair at all.  Some had glistening
gold down on their forearms and legs.  A couple of the older boys had small
curls of blonde pubic hairs nestling above the base of the cock shaft.

It had slowly begun to dawn on them that their circumstances had changed.
Whether for better or worse most of them had not quite worked out yet,
though the good meal and the bath had woken some early associations in the
memory of some of them.

One of them dropped to his knees and touched his forehead to the deck in
front of me before holding me around my ankles and kissing my bare toes.
He looked to be about eleven or twelve.  Then he sat back on his haunches
with his palms pressed against each other in front of his chest, as if
praying, and asked:

`Are we going home now Baba?'

(Interestingly, `Baba' means both `Father' and `Lord')

`Where is your home?' I asked him.

The boy shook his head sadly.

`I don't know Baba', he said

`What is your name?' I asked him gently.

`I am John, Baba', he replied.

I went down on my haunches in front of him and reached out to stroke his
straw-coloured thatch.

He nuzzled into my hand and purred at my touch.  I saw his cock harden
quickly into a respectable size for an eleven-year-old and it reminded me
that he was a seasoned prostitute as well as being a mine labourer.  The
only time any man would have touched him gently for the last three or four
years would have been when he was going to get fucked.  His responsiveness
was a promising sign, given the career he was destined for, and my cock
stiffened.  He reached out a hard brown hand and placed it over the
swelling front of my shorts, looking up and catching my eye with an impish
smile on his face and a naughty glint in his blue eyes.

Suddenly I found myself lusting for this lean and wiry young slave boy's
hard brown body, covered as it was with the weals and scars of abuse and
slavery.  I stood up slowly, easing him up with me, and held him by the
hand as I directed Dirk, Tiaan, Joshua and Jul to take the slave boys down
to the crew's quarters and make a complete inventory of them.

`I want name, description (hair and eye colour as well as a list of the
permanent scars), language, nationality ... if they know it ... and as much
as you can find out about their background', I called out.

Then I called them closer and added, confidentially, so that Andre's guards
would not hear:

`I want you also to rate each of them for sexual performance.  There are
fifteen of them and five of us, which means you must each fuck three of
them and rate those three "1", "2" or "3", with "1" being the
best. Understand?'

`Cool, Uncle Jonathan', said Tiaan, `Can we start with the sex test? I
really need a fuck after bathing all these okes.  They're all so fucken
horny they try to hump your hand when you wash their cocks ... and now they
made me horny too.'

`Ja, me too', chorused the other three boys.

`I don't mind where you start', I replied, `But remember to keep that part
our secret for now ... I want to choose the five best boys for ourselves
and we have ten hours to make the decision.'

Eager to get physical with the slave boys, Tiaan ordered them to hurry
below.

Once again the slave boys almost fell over each in their rush to be first,
desperately trying not to be the boys at the back who caught the lashes.
It would take them a while to realise that there were no handlers about to
herd and move them about like cattle with their darting rhino-hide whips.

John sidled into me and put an arm around my thighs, looking up at me with
blue eyes as he fingered the tip of his long, thin, eagerly erected young
cock.

Then, with my hand cupping the back of his slender neck, I led him below to
my cabin.