Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2006 09:11:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: Aihu Fist <aihufist@yahoo.com>
Subject: My life as a whoring student part 26

No reproduction allowed without prior consent of the author, this is
copyrighted from the moment it appears on the web.


The boys fucked on like fuck happy dogs that couldn't get their dicks out
of the bitch pussy. Paul much looked like an overworked ready-to-drop
bitch. He was so old; I wonder why I came over here. But the wondering took
me to different paths of bliss. The guy, who was tampering with my hole,
wasn't short of tools or ideas. He had his chin on mine pushing it down,
had his long slimy fluids running through my teeth, then bit me in the
cheeks like crazy, calling me `puto' with every centimetre he squirmed
farther in my lovely anus, while he pressed Paul's head deeper on my
cock. I wiggled my ass at times, not to please him; it was an instinctive
movement of mine when he had his cock in for too long.

Paul was good at slurping at my gland, that's all he did until he crashed
over it having been pushed over by the last assault of his rapist
boy. Paul's trickle of sperm lingered scantily over the floor; his
whoreboys cried victory when they came nearly at the same time. Paul fell
out of breath on his sides and pulled his knees up to his chest. He was
wheezing like an asthmatic. One boy ran quickly for his inhaler. I was left
alone for a while and dreamed on.

Gradually I `came down', it was night and I panicked, because I realized I
had not left a note for Omar about my whereabouts.

Paul listened to my anxiety with sheer detachment.

-Don't worry, buddy. You can stay here for the night.

-No Paul, I cannot, he will kill me.

-I thought you were a free boy?

-Not really, he acts like my daddy and if I don't come home I will get a
spanking, surely.

Paul just smiled at that.

-I am sure he enjoys spanking you; he said in-between two puffs of his
cigarette.

How does he do it? Do you have to go naked?

-Not funny Paul, yes, he would do just that.

The Moroccan whoreboys tried to grasp something of our conversation, but of
course they couldn't.

Paul ordered some couscous to be made after which he sent me home escorted
by the boys. He instructed them properly, I had the impression, and the
boys pretended to obey him in everything he said.

I was still kind of wobbly on my legs, but we went anyways.

Paul gave me a wet kiss on the lips, something the boys despised by the
looks of their eyes on me.

We scurried fast through snaking small streets. Until about fifteen minutes
later they stopped walking and pushed in a door of a house they seemed not
to know.

They pushed me inside then up the stairs into the darkness of an abandoned
house.

The one who had fucked me previously said something rapidly to the other
younger one who had fucked Paul. There were huge windows that gave out on
the beach. The house was truly uninhabited. Furniture had gone no curtains;
just a few rats fleeing for human presence.

-Que voulez vous (what do you want?) I asked the boys in French.

-Ta geule, putain (shut up whore), they barked. And the older one put his
hand over my mouth.

Then he released his hand and withdrew.

-C'est mon tour maintenant (it's my turn now) the younger one told the
elder.

 The dark light form outside shone on the boy's faces. They were conspiring
on something. The youngest one chuckled, while the elder one unbuttoned my
trousers and got them falling over my feet. One soft hand caressed my butt
cheeks with much care as if it was seeking the best spot to hit me with a
slap of a hand.

The familiar sound of spitting on their cocks and I grit my teeth once more
for the young bone stake that was announcing it's arrival between my fleshy
flaps.

The young one knew how to fuck much better than his elder `brother'. He was
not afraid to be too close to me either. He wrapped both arms around me and
moved with a certain flair that made me relax my arse muscles for every
thrust he prepared.

Suddenly, his motions stopped. His mouth that was sucking on my neck like a
lover let go of me and started a verbal fight with his bro.

I looked back at both and to my surprise I could see that the other had
taken hold of the young one's attractive cushions. Unbelief from my side,
because this was the first time I saw a Moroccan fuck a younger one, which
is permitted. Just like in Ancient Greece an elder could screw a younger
one and have the younger one perform fellatio on the elder, it was frowned
upon if it was performed otherwise.

This excited me very much. The boy was sandwiched between us and had no
recourse to fight back. I f he wanted to fuck me he had to let the other
one fuck him, seemed to have been the deal. The fighting subsided and there
was only the cussing and hissing and sucking sound to be heard in this
space.

I touched myself down under, rattling my balls, peeling my foreskin back
and forth and got hard. I splattered my spunk against the wall which made
me weaker and more tired after. The boys were near climaxing
themselves. The rod inside me did not easily deflate because after he had
come, both of them forced me to take a long ride on their cocks. Only then
they came, one by one on my shirt and trousers. They laughed about it, got
me up and pushed me out of the house. They did as they were told and
brought me in front of Omar's house. It was eleven fifteen sharp, when one
of the Negroes opened up. His face was in shock when he let me like that. I
went straight to bed, that means Omar's king-size bed.

-Where have you been, he roared? I was worried so much. What happened, tell
me.

What are these stains on shirt and trousers?

-I was at Paul's. I got bored today.

-Did he fuck you?

-No...

He slapped me in the face.

-I don't believe you.

He hit me once more and pushed me into the bed room and closed the door.

He pulled at my shirt and trousers.

-What is this?

He sniffed at the clothes.

-Sperm? So you had sex?

-The whoreboys raped me!

-Who, what?

Another slap hit my other cheek.

-Get undressed.

-Why?

-Because I say so, now!!

I did as I was told. Omar sat down on the bed and told me to lay over his
knees with my tummy. With fierce fire his hand landed on my buttocks
several times. I felt the devil rise in me and bucked and squirmed over him
like never I done before.

-Let me goooooo?

-No, you ought to be punished. You are a bad son.

-And you are a bad dad, I yelled.

Than he stopped slapping my butt and got me up on my feet.

-What did you say? He slapped me once more on my face.

-I said nothing more.

-Why you say this? Tell me I won't hit you no more.

-Paul said you wanted to sell me to him.

-He is a liar, how can you believe this after all I have done for you?

I was puzzled and confused, who was I to believe? Immediately, Omar pulled
me up against his hanging paunch and began to fondle me all over.

-I love you my puppy, you know that.

His finger found my cleft and anus and went in.

-I love your little butt hole so much more and I know you like it, don't
you?

You like it sooo much, I heard.

I said nothing.

-I heard you were a hot boy sought after very much in Torremolinos. I got
this letter form a Hassan, who said that Interpol is looking for you
everywhere in Europe after they closed down a brothel you worked
in. Fortunately you are here with me and in good hands. They will never
find you; don't worry, unless you want to be found?

I shrugged my shoulders. I just wished I could see my mum again, I thought.

His finger was still in me stretching my innards.

I sat in the usual loo position facing his beaming horny face. His other
hand had begun masturbating my pecker which boiling hot. My lips drew a
thin line under my nose.

-True or not, he asked as if we were sitting at a table drinking a fizzy
drink.



-What? I asked.



-You enjoyed all your customers there in Torremolinos?



-Some, ouch!! Don't pull my ass so savagely.



-Sorry, puppy. How did they stretch it in Torremolinos? With dildos? Did
they have you fucked with dogs too?

-Stop it.

-Oooh, are we being sensitive now?

Another finger joined the first.



-How many fingers can you take? Three, four? A fist?

He got them in all four, raised his eyebrows and exclaimed:

-Fantastic, you are worth your kilo of hashees!!!

Now let's see what else you can get in here.

-Azzedine, Azzedine!!

A Negro walked in and said:

-Yes, sir, what can I do for you?

-Bring me a cucumber, the fattest you can find.

The young man came back in hurry and looked very interested at me and how I
sat on Omar's lap. Omar has still all his fingers in me with that young guy
in my presence.

-You can go now Azzedine.

-Yes, sir.

The door closed but I did not really believe he had gone. He could be
spying through the key hole.

-Look Alex, this one is bigger than mine and broader than my four
fingers. Have you ever had something up yours this size?

-I don't think so, daddy.

-Well there is a first time for everything.

He got the olive oil which was always standing on the night table. He had
used it before on me, so I could slide better on his paunch when he wanted
to hump me.

I cringed at the sight of this enormous cucumber which was like fifteen
centimetres long and the circumference as you might have guessed like my
fist.

-Ready?

I nodded up and down. The utter edge felt cold but smooth and not painful.

-Relax puppy, close your eyes and throw your arms around my neck. You must
be brave, because if you can take this one up your professional hole Allah
will grant you all the good men with big cocks who would fight for you.

He drove it like a spindle up my butt.

-Oh Oh Oh, sttt stttooppp itttt.

-Ok. It is half way already; I'll wait a second until your muscle gets
adjusted.

My sphincter was indeed adjusting like some overstretched elastic that
could break up any time. He sat there with the cucumber resting with the
butt of it in the palm of his hand.

-Ok, we go on now.

Much deeper it went but it got finer again toward the other
end. Consequently he pulled it out slowly and shoved it in again the same
agonizing way.

I threw my head in my neck every time he pushed it in or pulled it out. But
the feeling of horniness took over from the pain.

He thoroughly enjoyed it.

-Tell me how many men fucked you like this?

-I didn't cou ou ou nnt thheemmmmm, I nearly screeched, trying to withhold
the urge to scream it out.

-Let me guess...you have been there for a a few months, so a good average
of four a day.

-More.

-Really?

-Yes, about six or seven.

-They all fucked you or gave you blowjobs?

-It varied, I sucked them off or they did me or both. Usually they fucked
me both in my mouth and my butt hole.

-You swallowed quite some milk, Puppy?

-Yes, I was forced too; the first owner beat the shit out of me if I dared
to refuse.

-Never any two or three-some?

-No, oh no that is incorrect...only once when they were filming me and when
I was not able to see them, they blindfolded me.

Now he took the vegetable out of my ass, I felt I needed to crap and I told
him so. Ok, go ahead, but don't take too long, it is bedtime, honey.

At the toilet Azzedine was waiting for me.

-Hey beauty, do you like the old fart that much or what or are you a cheap
whore?

-No, I have no one to take care of me, that's all, I am too small to fight
this guy, you know that.

-In my country at your age we are men and behave like men. I would never
allow the bastard to push a veggie up my crack.

-It is better that then having to make sex with him.

-What about my cucumber? Have you tasted it?

-Leave me alone I need to take a shit.

-Go ahead, I like watching a pretty boy like you take a crap...

Hence he stood there waiting until I finished my private business. My
bowels emptied all I had eaten today like water.

But when I thought of getting up and make for the bedroom, the guy came
over, opened his fly and whispered: go ahead, take it, I know you can do
it.

His cock head was pink as queer folk, his balls neatly packed underneath
the staggering beauty of his hellish black shaft.

-I cannot, Omar is waiting for me in bed.

-Let him, suck!!

Having said that, he bluntly headed my face down to his waiting cock which
grasped with my lips. I blew it fast and yes, I must say I liked it. I
started liking black fellows more than whites. I realized I was now really
someone who had lost all scruples of sex; moreover it got me hard, I wasn't
the boy of fourteen or fifteen anymore. My own drive was hankering for sex,
better, stronger illicit unknown sex. I got on my knees stroking his sinewy
thighs, reaching for his butt cleft, when I had pulled down his Arab
trousers.

He didn't mind me caressing him with love over his globes which were
hairless and metal hard. My hand disappeared below his purse to find his
African portal.

He was no Moroccan so he let me wander over his body. His moaning was of an
unspeakable beauty, that of a black siren.

Next he descended on his knees as well to embrace me and kiss me
passionately. We cuddled up, clutching our limbs together. His head went
down looking for my yearning dick, took it with the very fat reddish lips
which felt like blown up rubber cushions that massaged my gland until I
shot all I had. Nothing was spilled; he kept it all inside cherishing it
like nectar.

-Alex, I love you, I got a crush on you the minute I saw you. Why don't we
run away together? I will take care of you like a brother and a lover and a
dad, if you will.

How many times had I heard these words?

I said yes, to keep him happy and going. Feverishly he scrubbed his long
cock against my nipples till a jet of white liquid sprayed me all wet
again.

His eyes rolled back and forth.

-I must go now, I whispered.

-Ok. See you tomorrow.

-Good night.

-Goodnight, Azzedine.

I expected Omar to give me another lecture for coming late to bed, but I
found him on his belly snoring like a bear.

I tucked myself in, glad I had not to have sex again with this guy.

-Puppy?

-Yes, daddy?

-Next week I will make a Muslim out of you.

-How?

-You will see...goodnight

Goodnight, Omar.



A new ordeal



I was being watched over both by Omar and his Negro young men, which means,
when I wanted to go out one of his boys had to escort me. No more outings
to Paul and no adventures for me. What Omar didn't know was that all of his
boys screwed me whenever he wasn't home and Omar trained me to hold a
cucumber in my ass every night.

Besides that each and one of the boys who escorted me had friends to whom
they rented me out for short times.

The day after I had my first cucumber up my ass, I begged Omar to give me
some time to stroll through the city. He wouldn't listen to my pleas until
the Negro who had fucked me in the toilet intermediated and got me out of
the house for an afternoon.

I was dressed in my finest garb, something like `Sunday clothes' and the
Negro only wore a shabby djelaba and trod on cheap sandals. He didn't mind.

First we went to a tea house where as usual only men gather. Women are not
allowed in those places unless accompanied by their husbands I suppose.

In a minute I had all the men glancing at me. First they tried to talk to
my escort, who I will introduce here as Hussein. They chatted longer than
womenfolk, and the smoke of the water pipes nearly suffocated me. The tea
was the best I ever drank in my life, sweet mint, the red I liked best.

One hour later four men had joined our table. They had lots of fun
together. There was no alcohol available but as the day wore on they became
more familiar. They patted my back on and off as if we had known each other
for years. Yet another half hour on three more men stood behind me stroking
through my hair or ran their fingers in the nape of my neck.

 Hussein was happy with so much attention. The boss came and shook my hand
and Hussein's. The conversation was intense and serious all of a sudden
with all the men. They urged me to drink up my tea faster and poured in
once more.

I realised that the tea house was nearly empty of guests but for those
around the table.

Omar had dressed me up like a prince so to speak. My trousers were fin thin
cotton, the kind they sell to tourists, underneath I sat in tight briefs
made in Morocco. My shirt stood half open with a button just above my belly
button.

I was charmed and alarmed with so much attention, but Hussein was smart, he
only spoke in Berber with them, which of course for me was a like
deciphering a riddle.

The owner stood up and closed the doors. One man in his fifties shoved his
hand towards Hussein, who placed his own hand over his. I lost the
opportunity to see what was underneath the hand as the guy tapped me on the
shoulder, grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the chair, upon which all
the men shouted with shrill voices that sounded like they congratulated the
man. I looked back at Hussein when I had left my seat and he only nodded at
me indicating to follow the Arab.

Everyone whistled at me and slapped me on the butt as if I was camel that
had recently been purchased on the market.

We entered the private or one of the private quarters of the owner. He
switched on the light and I saw a small room with a mattress on the floor.

The man pushed me up the wall with my chest against it. My trousers went
down silently. MY underwear followed it. His crusty workman hands nibbled
like a hungry mouth at my cheeks, pinching them. He grabbed my wrist and
pulled behind my back. He made me fondle his hard cut cock which was
already wet. He sighed so much, the heat of his breath covering my
neck. His cock head found the way easily and had no trouble seeking its
pleasure.

The scent of his sweaty armpits drove me high; he came fast shaking like a
leaf.

He left without a word or a look at me.

I picked up the neat white briefs and trousers dragging them over my knees,
but that was far too naïve of me. Someone had turned off the light, surely
that person unlike to squeeze me in the dark.

I got plastered with my back against the cold wall. A hand swam through my
thighs from the front and picked at my ball sac. Subsequently that same
hand had started milking me real roughly. It flattened my gland and tore
the foreskin way too far over it. Then the moans came in surges of lust. I
heard a belt noise, like it was taken out of the loops of the pants they
sat in. My cock felt the cold leather around its shaft like a rope tying it
down. The man who did this spread my legs and forced me down to sit on my
knees on the mattress. He spoke Berber too, but no need to understand the
language, the pushing and shoving sufficed largely.

Don't know how it looked like but it was like me supporting my body on my
chin, my ass in the air, my genitals pulled through my thighs getting
tugged at every minute.

Then the tugging stopped in exchange for the man's own harpoon that
launched itself into my back throat. Yes, he slid in like it was all
buttered, while he lashed my butt cheeks with his belt. Roaring like a lion
he pulled out, flung me on my back to spray it all in my mouth.

He too left without a word spoken.

Four more men came in me that evening, the last one only wanted to be
sucked off...he was the only one who was nice to me, stroking me and kissing
me. He was the youngest; I guess twenty-five or something.

He had a well developed body of a hard worker, brown nipples and emerald
eyes. His lips were nearly purple. His belly hairless and a cock that was
so succulent just looking at that I threw myself at his feet to choke on it
with love. Fortunately I had not sucked any of the others and I hadn't
ejaculated either. We did that together. He took me by the hand and gave me
back to Hussein.

In the night Hussein said nothing, but he was a rich man tonight.

Omar waited with his cucumber in hand in bed.

--Come here my puppy, he said. It is cucumber time for us.

I lay on my tummy, he massaged my anus and after he had licked at the
veggie he drove it in and kept it there for an hour, after which he asked
me to climb his fat paunch so he could stick his Wiener sausage between my
legs and told me to press my ass against it.

At last when I was nearly exhausted, he jutted it all up my hole. Then he
crawled behind me to lick his own sperm away and finger his tongue deep in
me. He sure was not the stereotype Muslim.

He caged my cock in his hand and said:

-You know it looks so ugly this foreskin of yours; I will be more than
happy when they cut it off, the sooner the better.

I was terrified jut by the thought of it adn in a reflex I pulled my cock
out of his clutching fist and shouted: leave me alone you asshole, in my
own tongue.

he grabbed it back and started sucking it so much till he fell asleep
betwwen my legs. Then I made a daring move. I slipped out of bed rolled his
briefs down to get me going in his wooly ass. I believe he must've
drunksomething heavy as he didn't woke up when I came in him. That was my
first revenge on all of the Arabs who had abused me.


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Aihu Fist