Date: Sat, 6 May 2006 16:28:21 GMT
From: "anonymous4371@juno.com" <anonymous4371@juno.com>
Subject: DISAPPEARANCES - Intro. & Part 1 (Authoritarian)

BACKGROUND:

     A recent U.N. report states that hundreds of thousands of people just
"disappear" every year, never to be heard from again.  The report
speculated that such "disappearances" could be due to persons' attempts to
avoid debtors, crimes committed, severe paranoia, marital entanglements, or
military draft. But, allowing for all that, the vast majority of the
"disappeared" weren't old enough to have incurred any of those problems.
Indeed, the largest group of "disappeared" were young men and women in the
age group 15-28 and most within that group were characterized by poverty,
joblessness, lack of training in marketable skills, lack of parental
concern, and non-marital status.  More searching investigations by other
agencies discovered both males and females within this age-group of the
"disappeared" were also characterized by well- defined physiques and
striking good looks - females had nice figures and attractive facial
features; males were muscular, manly, and decidedly well-equipped.  Almost
none of those who "disappeared" ever reappeared back into their societies -
once a person "disappears," almost without exception, they are never heard
from again.  Countries with the highest rates of "disappearances" are
Bosnia-Herzegovina, Tajikistan, Chad, Uzbekistan, Burundi, Columbia,
Afghanistan, Sri Lanka, Eritrea, Cyprus, Gambia, Rwanda, the United States,
Venezuela, Canada, and Mexico.  Thus, "disappearances" come from every
racial, ethnic and religious groupings.

     Where do these hundreds of thousands of people end up?  Since no
remains are ever found, it is assumed they are alive, but where?  And what
are they doing? Strangely, the number of people estimated to be modern-day
slaves throughout the world is almost identical to the number of
"disappearances" from the countries mentioned above. Contemporary slaves
usually do the work no one else wants to do and at the lowest possible cost
- their original sales price and their maintenance is the only cost since
slaves are paid nothing and can be worked long and hard each and every day
without any benefits, vacations, retirement costs, etc.  But that 'grunge'
work can be done by both kids and older adults.  The prime-age group of
slaves, 15-28, are more profitably sold off as sex workers, and females
especially often find themselves purchased for placement in nationally
syndicated brothels, as personal concubines, as members of a rich person's
'harem,' as a millionaire's 'pleasure slave,' or as a matron's 'pet.'
Males in this same age group bring even higher prices, usually for service
in specialized relatively obscure brothels catering to both female and male
homosexual customers, as a rich man's 'sex toy' to be displayed at every
opportunity within the hidden sanctuaries such slaves are usually kept in,
as part of a billionaire's harem of boy slaves secreted away in some remote
estate, as a pimp's 'street boy' charged with earning a specified quota
each and every night, or, most likely, as a master or mistress' 'house boy'
where the duties include cleaning, cooking, meal service, laundry duties,
and, most importantly, discrete full sexual use of their slaves' body at
any and all times for both themselves and their guests within the privacy
of their own homes.

     It is this last group which sets the scenario for the series of
stories to follow which explore the background, training, eventual sale and
the new lives of some of those who disappeared.

Case No. 1:

[The first of these tales is about a young man from an historic area for
slave hunting - the areas touching the Caspian Sea.]


     My name before was Khandik bin Ihadika.  By before, I mean before I
was kidnaped from my native Tajikistan and shipped by air freight
clandestinely to a training center somewhere, I suspect, but never really
knew, in the deserts of North Africa.

     Back in Tajikistan, I was my father's eighth son and 14th child, not
that he ever seemed to care very much.  We were desperately poor even
before I was born and, of course, even poorer as child after child was
added to partake of the family's dwindling resources.  None of us were ever
taught to read or write, we couldn't count beyond 10, and knew nothing of
history or world events outside of our basic very fundamental religious
teachings from the Holy Koran.  The one blessing all members of the family
shared were striking good looks: fine brown head hair that arranged itself
in tight curls, hairless bodies, bright green or blue eyes reflecting some
Kurdish blood somewhere along the line, beautiful long eye lashes and high
cheek bones, small mouths and thin lips, dazzling white teeth, and, as each
one of us developed over the years, powerfully built physiques, huge
sculptured rounded pectorals that encompassed our chest above thin wasp-
like very muscular waists, nice rounded muscular butts, and manhood that
was well-above average in size and protruded nicely as if to advertise
itself.  Even at 15, my maturity was almost complete and most of the
village girls (as well as many of the village bachelors) eyed me hungrily
every time I passed them in my old ragged clothes which barely covered me
anymore.

     But, even at 15, I had never 'known' a woman nor even slept with
another village boy, although I was aware some of my close friends had at
least experimented with another boy now and then and a few had bedded down
a female prostitute, widely available in most any Tajikistan village since
women had little options outside of prostitution if they lost their
virginity before marriage. Although pre-marital sex was forbidden to the
likes of me, homosexual liaisons were viewed most tolerantly since little
harm could come of such encounters - the partners found pleasure and relief
and no new babies fouled the waters or muddied inheritance issues. Hence,
many married men engaged in extra-marital relationships with attractive
boys, men not married went from boy to boy or even tried to support whole
cadres of them, and young adolescents gained sexual maturity from
experience with like kind while managing to keep the lid on their unwanted
use of chaste women.

     Perhaps it was my relative sexual innocence as much as my good looks
that led to my being kidnaped by slavers. Of course, back in the old days,
slavery in Tajikistan was common enough and even the smallest village had
at least monthly slave sales where an attractive wench, a likely lad, or a
burly worker could be purchased cheaply enough. The caravans brought in a
wide assortment of human chattel so the land was sprinkled with slaves of
every complexion, build, age, and temperament.  But after the Soviet
takeover in the 1920s, open slave sales became a thing of the past although
slaves still changed hands often enough illegally until the end of World
War II when the normal source of slaves seemed to evaporate and prices got
so high no one could afford them anymore. But with the end of Soviet
domination toward the end of the 20th century, black-market slavery
re-emerged with a vengeance to fill a long unfulfilled need and kidnaping
began the main source of new slaves.  In fact, as a child, I simply got use
to my friends just disappearing one day, never to be seen again.  Although
some within my village now owned slaves again, none of them were natives -
all seem to have come from somewhere else and I, like most others, assumed
those kidnaped were being sold off as slaves, just not in their home
villages.


     Now, based on my own experience, I knew those assumptions were true.
One night I was grabbed from behind when out on the streets by myself with
no one else around, felt a needle sink into my arm as a hood was slipped
over my face.  By the time I was struggling to free myself from my captors'
grasp, I lost consciousness.

     When I woke up, apparently days later, I was naked, had a heavy iron
collar locked around my neck, and was in a cage so small I couldn't lay
down other than in a fetal position and couldn't stand up without touching
the iron bars making up the roof of the cage as well as the sides and floor
of the pen.  As I looked around, I seemed to be in a warehouse of some type
where hundreds of cages were filled with naked bodies.  One side of the
warehouse seemed to hold females; the other side males.  All were collared
like myself, all were in the prime of their youth, and all seemed to be
visually exploring their new surrounds just like myself. Strangely,
everyone was quiet - no one was shouting, no one was banging the doors of
their cages, no one was making defiant gestures.  Everyone caged just
stared outward at each other, was shamed by their nakedness as they tried
to cover their privates, and said silent prayers to their God. All seemed
to know intuitively they had been 'taken' as slaves based on what they had
seen and heard in their native villages.

     This warehouse, I was to learn later, was filled with exactly that -
youth from areas where they were aware of slaves and where kidnaping was
not that rare an event. These would be the easy ones to train because they
already knew most slaves of their age were used for the sexual pleasure of
their owners. As slaves, they would be used sexually among other things and
a good part of their training would be toward that purpose.  That didn't
need to be explained to them - they already knew it.

     Another warehouse, not too far away, was filled with people from very
different backgrounds and expectations.  They too had been kidnaped, but
from areas of the world where slavery was so hidden few knew what slaves,
if they even existed, did or did not do. For them, the whole idea of
slavery was totally unreal - a fantasy if you will - and being used
sexually for an owner's pleasure without their consent was totally
unimaginable as well as abhorrent. Their training would be long and
complicated.  First, they had to be 'broken' to accept slavery itself;
second, they had to learn that as a slave not only their body but even
their will belonged to whoever bought them; third, their body was to offer
their owner any pleasure they were capable of delivering; fourth, such
usage was to be offered immediately, without resistance of any type, and
with no outward indication of any resentment, embarrassment, or shame; and
fifth, slaves were slaves for life - there was no release in this lifetime
from their new status, indeed even their offspring, if they were ordered to
breed, belonged to their master or mistress.

     I, like most of my fellow slaves in that first warehouse, knew life as
we had once known it would now be a fading memory.  Our best chance to
avoid intolerable pain and suffering at the hands of our cruel trainers
would be to learn as quickly as possible what they wanted us to do and
master how to do it as easily as we could.  All of us in that first
warehouse knew that slaves were just property as far as society was
concerned; that masters and mistresses would use us for anything that
crossed their minds or to fulfill even the slightest whim, that we would be
symbols of power, authority, and status to those we would be displayed to
by our owners, that most of us would be used sexually unrelentingly until
we were too old to be attractive anymore, and that we would be expected to
know how to please our owners in their sexual use of us with finesse and
perfection.  We would we expected to work in one capacity of another every
waking hour of our existence; we could never expect to have our own wishes
fulfilled, let alone any careers outside our owner's interests; we would
work no matter how tired or exhausted or sick we were; and that our lives
would require us to overcome all feelings of shame, humiliation, insult,
and guilt no matter what our moral or religious background prior to our
enslavement.  Most of us had come from societies where these were common
expectations for slaves and so we knew what would be expected of us now.

     Training was exactly as we thought it would be.  Deviance from our
trainer's commands was met instantly with the cutting whip across our backs
and butts, the cane when cuts would make us unattractive, and the electric
prod for laggardness or insolence. We had to earn every scrap of food and
water, even sleep privileges, through strictly conformity to their rules
and commands.  Even the 'privilege' of relieving our bodies of waste
products had to be earned through compliant behavior.  For the males,
sexual relief was rarely granted despite constant stimulation of our sexual
organs, and, after a short time, we found ourselves willing to do most
anything, no matter how disgusting or degrading, to earn the 'privilege' of
emptying our balls occasionally, usually as part of some sort of public
exhibition.

     At first, chronic starvation, constant thirst, and restriction of our
sleep caused us to quickly master such basic commands as learning to
display our bodies properly, remaining silent unless asked a direct
question, kneeling in the presence of a master or mistress, and allowing
others to fondle and explore all parts of our bodies, including those
things once considered totally private when we were free.  We quickly
learned there was nothing we wouldn't do, no matter what background we came
from, to get a tiny sip of water when you're thirsting to death. Our
trainers understand that and exploited it unmercifully as we were shaped to
our new lives.  Later, the electric prods and the whips taught us to offer
our 'holes' with no objection for the trainer's use in fucking us, to
launch into a sucking of an offered prick with no hesitation and with the
prick swallowed completely down our throat with no gagging or choking
regardless of the prick's length or girth; or to stand absolutely quiet
with our pelvis thrust out as far as possible while a trainer milked us if
someone might want to sample our 'man juice.'  Shame in complete nakedness
and appearing fully aroused in public, let alone being used sexually in
front of total strangers, faded quickly as every other trainee was totally
naked at all times and bodily exposure seemed to be the least of our
problems when getting food of any type was paramount.  As our trainer told
us over and over, "a slave is always a whore - it's part of being a slave"
as if it were some great religious truth as indeed is was according to the
trainers.  They pointed out Christianity, Islam, and Judaism approved of
slavery without exception and these three religions all admonished slaves
to obey their masters in all things. In fact, many parts of the Koran, the
Torah and the Bible clearly directed slaves toward total compliance to the
demands of their earthy masters and those most relevant passages were
painted on all of the training halls' walls as a reminder of God's will.
It was clear slavery was part and parcel of God's master plan and if you
were a slave, God must have intended you to be one.

     Within a scant four months, we were fully trained and ready for
sale. A full morning was allowed for inspection of the goods with the
auction that same day in the afternoon.  That particular day, 60 of us were
being marketed, each of us, scattered throughout the room on all four
walls, chained only by our neck collar so buyers could easily inspect all
parts of our bodies and have us bend over, spread our legs, etc., with no
difficulties.  Fully cleaned and flushed out thoroughly, completely body
shaved and well oiled with a separate spotlight highlighting each of our
bodies, we watched as the doors opened and several hundred or so
expensively dressed potential purchasers flooded into the auction
hall. Most slowly circled the room initially to take in what was available
that day and then went back to the displays that most interested them. A
female offering was placed between every male offering to offer the best
contrast - overall, there were 30 females and 30 males to be sold that
day. Although four months ago, we turned beet red when exposed naked in
front of the opposite sex, trying to hide ourselves until the whips
intervened, now we thought nothing of it and no longer even saw anything
unusual about wantonly displaying ourselves in front of women whether they
be fellow slaves or women buyers.  Indeed, most of us realized our fate
depended on finding a good buyer that day and nothing, let alone some
outmoded and certainly inappropriate notion of bodily modesty, was going to
interfere with showing a buyer what we had to offer them.

     I noticed there was a nice variety of bodies for sale that day -
beautiful women and handsome men, pure white to jet black, short to tall,
every eye and hair color available in human stock, and heavily sexed to
moderately so.  Among the males being offered, there were muscle-boys to
swimmer types, young adolescents to men in their prime, some left hairy
while most naturally smooth or closely body shaved, huge studs to those
respectable, but not gigantic, those fully ringed (nose, ear, tit, and
genital), partially ringed (tit and genital only),and those left unadorned,
those with huge pectorals to those well defined but not puffy, those whose
large close-to-their-body balls made sure they protruded naturally (like
myself) to those who balls hung low and needed to be genitally ringed to
protrude well. All the offerings, male and female, were in top health,
excellent muscular tone, without blemish, and, by this time, completely
trained to their new status in society.

     The first inspection of my body was by a woman buyer who seemed
disappointed with the size of my phallus once she had stroked me to a full
erection and turned her attention to a female slave chained next to me, a
full-tittied beauty from Greece who got wet the minute her sex was stroked.
Neither of us, however, seemed to be what she was looking for and the
female slave and I exchanged looks of relief that the ugly old woman wasn't
to be our new owner. After that I was fondled, stroked, prodded and
squeezed by two old men, both looking for a new catamite for their bed; a
rich young aristocrat even younger than myself looking for a new diversion
and something to show off to his friends; a middle-aged fat brothel manager
from Mombasa looking for a nice looking "white" boy who had lots of years
of hard service left in him for his mainly black customers ; a decadent-
looking resort owner from Aruba looking for a new houseboy that would
appeal to both his female and male customers vacationing at his resort with
the sole intent of fulfilling their most erotic fantasies without
restrictions or inhibitions; and, finally, a couple of athletically-built
black men in their mid-30s who shared living quarters and a gay life style
including, it seemed, a couple of live-in male sex slaves for their
enjoyment.  This last couple spent considerable time inspecting my body's
muscles, holes, appendages, and facial features.

     "What do you think, Lance?" one asked the other as he weighed my balls
with one hand and stroked my erect shaft with the other. "He's hung nice
and heavy just like we like them."

     "Yeah, and his tits are nice too - big and juicy on those big pecs of
his that would really look great when we ringed them, Charles," the man
apparently named Lance responded.  "He'd be a nice compliment to the two we
already own - for one thing he's white; for another he's not muscle-bound;
and, best of all, he couldn't be a day over 16 from the looks of him
despite that huge prick he's sporting."

     "Sugar and Buck are getting a little long in the tooth compared to
this one," Charles said as he reached up and began squeezing my tits until
they were erect and swollen, "but I doubt if he can suck as well as either
one of them - when it comes to cock sucking those two we've got simply
can't be beat."

     "They take it up the ass pretty well too," Lance chuckled.  "At least,
I never heard you complain when you're fucking them and I know I think
they're about as good as it gets in that area, long in the tooth or not!"

     "Well, we better check this slave out in those areas before we plunk
down hard cash," Charles advised and he signaled for me to sink to my knees
with my mouth open.

     Without embarrassment of any type, both men had me suck them, making
sure I could take all of them without gagging, choking, or resistance of
any type and that I knew enough to wrap my mouth and throat tightly around
their large organs as they fucked my face rather roughly. Neither of them
shot down my throat, however, saving themselves for the next step of their
evaluation. Once satisfied I was well trained orally, they ordered me to
get on my hands and wide-spread knees with my hole fully exposed and open
to their usage. The man named Lance entered me first, thrusting all the way
in quickly and humping me vigorously with full, long strokes that opened me
up completely as I tried to stifle a slave's usual groans and moans as he
is opened completely by a big organ thrust all the way up his hole over and
over.  When he stiffened with his release of a big load up my rectum, he
withdrew roughly and was replaced almost immediately by his room-mate who
was hung even bigger. Charles was slower in his pumping action, but went
deeper with each stroke and when he finally emptied into me, his output
flooded my interior so I felt cum running down my thighs and onto the
auction room floor forming a big pool beneath me.

     "Eat it," Charles pointed first to his prick, covered in cum and ass
juice, and when I had cleaned him off completely and swallowed the residue,
he pointed to his partner's similarly coated prick and when I had cleaned
Lance off, he pointed to the pool of cum beneath me. I understood what he
meant, and instantly put my face to the floor and licked up his and his
partner's cum which had pretty well emptied out of me by now. Once again I
was reminded that nothing made you feel more like a slave than being fucked
on your hands and knees right in front of everyone, even more than the
collar welded around my neck telling the whole world of my status along
with my constant nakedness.

     As I remained on my hands and knees, I risked looking up to see the
two men exchange a knowing glance with each other accompanied by a little
nod of their heads.  Within minutes, I was being unchained from the wall
and a leash was fastened to my neck collar as my ownership papers were
prepared, signed, and properly notarized by the slave dealer. Almost
immediately, I was led to the trunk of one of my new owner's car, their cum
still dripping out of my stretched asshole.

     The minute we reached "home," I was put in the hands of the two slaves
they already owned who were considerably older. As they had stated back at
the auction house, the two were extremely muscular, almost muscle bound,
were jet black, were all of 25 years old, and were both very heavily hung.
They both were fitted with very thick, tight-fitting tall slave collars
that forced their heads up at all times, were both tit- ringed, and tightly
banded around their genitals so their very large sex organs were thrust out
prominently at all times.  Both had hairless bodies that gleamed from a
recent oiling, both were nude, of course, outside of their body fittings,
and both were devilishly handsome in a very rugged masculine sort of way.
They were perfect slaves for my athletically built new owners, it seemed,
and I shuttered when I thought of them fucking me if that were ever
allowed.

     I found out in the next 15 minutes that my last premonition was true
and both were ordered to fuck me for my owners' "entertainment," much to
the delight of the black slaves who, it turned out, were seldom allowed to
fuck themselves, usually being on the other end of being fucked. The ass
reaming by the black slaves was even more powerful than the trials I had
been put through by my two new owners and by the time the second black had
discharged deep inside me, my ass was aching and raw and felt like it was
so distended I would never regain normal shape again.

     I did, of course, and my life over the next few years consisted of
little else than endless house chores of cleaning, cooking, serving,
sucking, and being fucked by my two black owners, and their two black
slaves, Sugar and Buck.  My owners' two black slaves treated me nicely
enough despite their continual fucking me up the ass and they did "teach me
the ropes" of how to be a good domestic slave under actual ownership.
After a while, I got use to the routine, learned to respect my new owners
and their power, and appreciated having two older slaves looking out for my
best interests.  I even got to enjoy being fucked, not only by my owners,
but by the other slaves in the household as well.  After all, this was my
life now, and it could be a whole lot worse, especially when I saw the
draft slaves out in the streets pulling the wagons under a steady whip with
the cruel bits in their mouths and witnessed first hand the screams of
slave construction workers constantly being disciplined by the bull whip
and electric prods of their overseers as they labored from sunrise to
sunset each and every day.

     I realized how lucky I was to have ended up with two kind and
considerate masters who seldom had to punish me and gave me plenty of slave
chow and water rations twice a day so I was seldom hungry or thirsty. Even
when they loaned me out to their friends to be fucked or to give blowjobs,
they always checked me over when I was returned to make sure their friends
hadn't permanently damaged my body in any way. Being kept kenneled with two
other slaves kept all of us from ever getting lonely and gave us a sense of
family few slaves ever had, let alone open access to each other's bodies
once we were caged for the night.  All thoughts of any family back in that
place I was born were as distant as my remembrance of their strange
language.  And I was sure they remembered me no more than I remembered them
at this point.  All I really remembered was that I was better fed now, had
more people who seemed to value me for whatever reason, and my two black
masters and their two black slaves appreciated me more than anyone in my
old family ever had, even if it was just for the sexual pleasure I was able
to give them whenever they wanted. I had no desire to ever go back to my
former life.

[Comments appreciated: anonymous4371@juno.com.  Thanks. Bill Smith]