Harem


(Part 1 from 8. Fiction.)

The business trip to Riyadh had been an uneventful one for Peter. Having just started with an American petrochemical company he had been excited to be offered the chance to travel as part of his job. Little did he know that his trip was about to take a decided turn for the worse.

Across the breakfast room in the hotel Mehmet was staring at the clean-shaven handsome American while he slowly sipped his coffee. This white man was just Mehmet’s type – smooth light skin, slim build, an almost effeminate look. He decided right there that he had to possess this object of his desires, and he began to hatch his plan as he finished his breakfast.

It had been simple for a wealthy and connected man like Mehmet to bribe the American’s hired driver. After all, Mehmet was a close friend of a certain Saudi prince who secretly shared some of Mehmet’s more private proclivities. In Saudi Arabia on business from the home base of his company in Ankara, the procurement of his prize he knew would not be difficult – rather the extraction of his conquest back to his native Turkey. This is where the help of his high-ranking friend would come in handy.

Sorry Sir, sorry Sir the driver repeated to Peter as he explained the fake breakdown of the car on the way to Peter’s last business meeting. Quite quickly the driver had blurted out something about going back to the gas station they had passed not long ago to get a mechanic to come and sort out the car trouble. With that the driver took off leaving Peter with the car, and quite confused. Peter did not speak any Arabic, and frankly had no idea where they were in the city as this had been his first trip to Riyadh. Trying to sort out how he could get a hold of the colleagues he was supposed to be meeting with 20 minutes later he did not even notice the sleek black limousine pull up beside his car.

Shit! Peter muttered under his breath. Even though the delay would not be his fault he was upset at this inconvenience disrupting his first business trip in his new job. Peter desperately wanted to make a good impression for his bosses, and hopefully move up the corporate ladder. The more impatient he became the more convinced he seemed that this untimely breakdown would jeopardize his advancement.

“What seems to be the trouble” the tall dark Arab driver of the limo said to Peter as he leaned his head into Peter’s rolled down car window. Peter sat right back in the seat, startled by the statement as he had not even noticed the limo’s approach never mind the fact that the driver had gotten out and approached his car.

“Uh – we seem to have had some kind of engine trouble” Peter replied. My driver has gone back to a gas station to get some assistance. “I see” said Ahmet – the limo driver. “I will tell my employer that we can be on our way then. He had wanted to check that there was no serious trouble before we continued on to his office downtown. You don’t by chance require a lift to that part of town do you? My employer has instructed me that if this is the case he would be happy to offer you transport.”

Peter couldn’t believe his luck – and more out of his ambition to please his superiors than out of any good & common sense, he exited his vehicle and was ushered in to the limo of an absolute stranger. It would be one of the last conscious decisions for himself that he would ever make.

As Ahmet opened the limo door for Peter, he was struck by the size of the driver. Standing 6’2” tall, Ahmet was built like a bull. He had been a wrestler in Turkey prior to his employment by Mehmet – whom he now served as driver and bodyguard. Peter slipped past the giant man and into the cool interior of the car where he found himself seated across from the man who would become his master. Mehmet was himself a large man, only standing 5’10” tall, but weighing a portly 240 lbs. He lived a life of privilege, and liked to indulge himself as his wealth would allow.

“Good morning” Mehmet said to Peter in his heavily accented English. Peter returned the pleasantry and thanked his seemingly good Samaritan for stopping to help. “Think nothing of it my friend” came the reply – “my driver Ahmet will leave a note in your car stating that we have delivered you on to your destination.” There would of course be no note, and shortly after the limo took off, Peter’s car would disappear forever, as would his hired driver – just one more mysterious disappearance of a foreigner in a foreign land like so many other times throughout history.

“Please please” Mehmet insisted, “have some water with lemon.” Peter eagerly accepted as even the short disruption in his car trip had made him quite thirsty in the heat of the Saudi summer. The lemon perfectly disguised the slightly bitter taste of the strong tranquilizer that laced the beverage. “Where can we take you?” inquired Mehmet. Peter turned and gave the name of the office building to Ahmet, but then began to drift into a deep slumber that he would not awaken from for a few hours.

During the time that he had been drugged, Ahmet had sped the limo through the streets of Riyadh to his boss’s warehouse on the outskirts of town. The big Turk slung the unconscious American over his shoulder, and lugged his human cargo into the warehouse to begin the next phase of Mehmet’s plan.

As Peter began to waken, he tried to move his arms and legs but found that he was restrained by handcuffs and leg irons. Feeling totally perplexed he tried to sit up but was snapped back down onto the thin mattress by a chain attached to both the wall, and a collar around his neck. Instantly panicked, Peter began to yell for help. He was shocked to see Ahmet, the limo driver who had offered him a ride enter the room. Without a word, Ahmet strode over to Peter and delivered a clubbing blow across his face with the back of his hand. “Silence” Ahmet demanded. “You will not speak without permission from your master to do so.” “What?!” Peter exclaimed – which was followed by another such blow from Ahmet’s other hand. Now bleeding from his nose Peter decided against another outburst while he tried to figure out his situation. “You will remain silent” Ahmet demanded, “and await your Master’s arrival”. With that Ahmet spun on his heels, and exited the room.

Peter took stock of his surroundings, a dimly lit empty room with nothing in it save the small bed to which he was shackled. It was only at that point that Peter realized that all he had on was a thin muslin cloth wrapped around his midsection. Barely enough fabric to cover his manhood. Desperately Peter tried to sort out in his head what had happened, but he could come up with no definitive answer save that if Ahmet was here, then his current predicament must also have something to do with the heavy set owner of the limo that he had gotten in to.

About 15 minutes later, the door opened again, and this time both Ahmet and Mehmet entered one after another. “Remain silent” warned Ahmet as he removed Peter’s collar, and replaced it with the loop at the end of a long 1” wide strip of leather. Ahmet cinched up the loop almost to the point of stangling Peter, and dragged him up to a standing position. His change in position was brief however, for as soon as he was brought upright, he was forced by the muscular manservant to a kneeling position in front of Mehmet. Greet your new Master with respect growled Ahmet as he forced Peter’s head down to the floor in front of Mehmet’s feet. “Very nice” whispered Mehmet, as he gazed down at the milky white vision prostrated at his feet. “Bring him” commanded Mehmet as he turned and exited the room.
Ahmet began to drag Peter from the room by his “leash” leaving Peter no choice but to crawl as fast as he could to keep up with the two men.


He was led down the hall to another much larger room, sumptuously decorated with ornate furnishings and smelling vaguely of incense. Mehmet took his seat on a large padded wing chair while Ahmet deposited Peter on the floor in front of him. At least he was more comfortable in this room as the floor was covered from wall to wall in several layers of rich Turkish carpets.

“So” Mehmet began, “you must be wondering what has happened to you.” Peter was instructed to listen carefully as his situation would only be explained to him once. “ I have decided to take you as my concubine, and my slave. I have looked for a very long time for a man such as you to turn into my sex slave and personal property. You will remain here where you are until you are sufficiently trained to return with me to my home in Ankara. You will now begin the process of learning how to obey, pleasure, and service me in whatever way I desire. Your will is no longer your own. You will exist to service me.”

Peter had no way of knowing how dire those statements were. Mehmet was a single-minded man with a voracious and perverse sexual appetite. Being a Muslim in the secular country of Turkey did not afford him the kind of control over others that he longed for. In fact, even here in Saudi Arabia where a wealthy man could control women and others to a great extent, the laws did not provide for what Mehmet had in store for his new slave.

With the explanation of his enslavement complete, Mehmet instructed Ahmet to prepare the slave for his first lesson. With that Ahmet dragged Peter over to an adjoining room that looked like a cross between a bedroom and a torture chamber. A huge gilt king size bed dominated one side of the room, while the rest contained furniture and equipment right out of a BDSM enthusiast’s fantasy. Ahmet manhandled Peter over to one corner of the room, and although Peter struggled he was no match for the former wrestler. Ahmet wrapped one of his large hands around Peter’s already constricted throat and began to squeeze. With his air supply all but cut off he saw a demonic glare in Ahmet’s eyes.

He would come to recognize that look very well as Ahmet loved to inflict pain on a submissive slut. Peter stopped his struggling and allowed the powerful Turk to position him as his master required. Positioned on his knees, Peter’s feet and hands were both chained to the floor, effectively keeping him from moving. Ahmet went to the wall and removed a leather harness which he began strapping on to Peter’s head. The harness included a hard molded plastic ring gag that Ahmet shoved in to Peter’s mouth. With the harness cinched up the gag kept Peter’s mouth wide open, and the plastic component continued back in his mouth almost to the point of making him gag. Your first lesson slut, Ahmet instructed, will be learning how to pleasure your master’s cock with that pussy on your face. Peter began to panic – he was completely straight and this surreal situation was becoming more and more alarming by the minute.

With that, Ahmet withdrew to a position about 10 feet away while Mehmet entered the room. He had removed all of his clothes, and strode over to his new slave with his semi-erect cock swinging proudly in front of him. Mehmet loved to be deep throated, but had found few women or men who could take his extra large cock as deeply or as vigorously as he liked for as long as he liked. The solution – train a slave that has no option but to do his bidding – and that process was about to begin. Mehmet grasped his swelling shaft and began to rub his meaty cockhead all over Peter’s face.

A thick trail of precum began to form, clinging to Peter’s cheeks, forehead, and distended lips. “For now we will conduct your training with the assistance of this gag” Mehmet told him, “but soon you will beg for my cock in your mouth and throat without such a cumbersome device.” With that Mehmet inserted his still growing cockhead into the tube gag, and worked it slowly deeper until he could feel the back of Peter’s throat. Peter began to gag and retch, which completed the hardening of his master’s cock. Fully erect, Mehmet possessed a 9” circumcised cock that that was as thick as a toilet roll. He pressed another inch of his meat into his slave’s spasming throat. The gagging intensified but unfazed Mehmet kept feeding his tool into Peter’s waiting throat until the entire length of his meat was buried in Peter’s face. The violent gagging and retching continued and Peter’s body tried to expel the invader by vomiting – but he was so thoroughly plugged by the Arab’s cock that the bile had nowhere to go but back into Peter’s belly. Snot began to pour from Peter’s nostrils and just as he was starting to black out from lack of oxygen Mehmet withdrew his snake enough to allow the slave a gulp of air. This process was repeated several times until Mehmet’s cock was coated with a thick layer of slime from deep inside of Peter’s throat, providing perfect lubrication for the Arab master. The tight contractions of Peter’s throat were providing a great deal of pleasure for Mehmet, and he continued the oral raping of his slave for another 20 minutes.

Exhausted, Peter’s throat began to relax and accommodate the thick invader, reducing the spasming contractions that Mehmet had been enjoying. So he snapped his fingers and Ahmet moved in on Peter. Out of his peripheral vision Peter saw Ahmet’s approach, and soon felt the bodyguard’s meaty hand back around his throat – once again squeezing and cutting off Peter’s air supply. Struggling for air, the slave’s throat muscles once again started to spasm, and Mehmet blew his huge load of cum directly down his pussyboy’s gullet. Once he came down from his orgasm Mehmet had to tell Ahmet three times to release Peter’s throat from his grasp.

Peter would later learn that the previous candidate for the position he was now in had inadvertently been killed by Ahmet due to his lust for inflicting pain and suffering. Gasping for air around the now spongy fuckmeat of his master, Peter became aware that Mehmet was neither withdrawing his cock from his mouth, nor continuing to thrust it inward. Mehmet had decided that Peter’s next lesson should be his first step to becoming the domineering Turk’s personal toilet. This was something that Mehmet very much liked training a submissive slave to do – and before he was through this bitch would be turned into his full service toilet whore amongst other degrading and humiliating tasks. As Mehmet relaxed, he told his slave to get ready to receive a gift – the gift of his master’s piss. Peter desperately wanted to get away, but Mehmet’s hands wrapped around the back of his head ensured that he stayed put while the long stream of urine was deposited into his belly.

With both his cock and his bladder relieved, Mehmet unceremoniously removed his cock from Peter’s mouth with a loud slurp. This was followed by a large glob of phlegm that erupted from Peter’s mouth and began running down his chin onto the floor.

See to her cleaning and preparation for tonight Mehmet instructed his bodyguard. I shall want to use her throat again as well as her cunt. Peter was alarmed by his master’s referral to him in the female gender, but had little time to contemplate the matter as Ahmet was once again on him in an instant. Mehmet strode out of the room while Ahmet stood over Peter with that increasingly familiar gleam in his eyes. Peter was about to start suffering for the pleasure of his master. A role that he would fulfill for the rest of his life.

The burly bodyguard un-strapped the gag from Peter’s mouth and yanked it out. Peter coughed and spluttered as his face had become stiff with his mouth being stretched open for such a long period of time. Ahmet replaced the gag on a nearby shelf and then returned to unlatch the slave’s chains holding him in place on the floor. He then grabbed Peter’s face and squeezed causing his eyes to tear, and his mouth to open and contort. “Time to get ready for your next lesson bitch” Ahmet growled, giving Peter’s face an extra squeeze before shoving his head back with such force that Peter found himself flat on his back on the floor.

Ahmet scooped up the end of the slave’s leather leash that was still attached around his neck, and proceeded to drag Peter off towards yet another room within the private apartments built in to Mehmet’s huge warehouse.

Paying little attention to his surroundings and just trying not to get strangled by the tight leather leash Peter didn’t notice right away that the next room in the complex was tiled from floor to ceiling in marble. This was in fact the first chamber of Mehmet’s Turkish bath that he had installed in the warehouse. The room was warm but not hot, and very slightly steamy & humid. Ahmet placed his size 13 square in the middle of Peter’s back and forced him roughly down on to his belly on the floor. Pinning him there while he removed the cord from around the slave’s neck.

“First you will sweat” Ahmet said, “and then you will be prepared for your master’s pleasure.” With that Ahmet practically picked Peter up by the back of his neck and dragged him over to the side of the room, throwing him through a doorway and then slamming the door behind him. Peter now found himself in a small sauna, and heard Ahmet bolting the door from the outside. He was stuck in this cedar box until his captors decided to let him out. Slowly the temperature began to climb as Ahmet adjusted the dial on the wall. He left his quarry to stew while he disappeared into yet another anteroom to undress and get ready.

After nearly 20 minutes in the stifling heat of the sauna, Peter felt weak and was covered in a thick layer of sweat. He was relieved to hear the door being unlocked, but was quietly alarmed when the door swung open and the sight of Ahmet stripped except for a thin cotton wrap around his midsection filled the doorframe. Ahmet’s skin was the colour of caramel but was covered in a tick pelt of coarse black hair that seemingly extended across his entire body. Huge muscular arms with bulging biceps, traps raising menacingly from the tops of his shoulders, two enormous slabs of muscle for pecs on his chest, and powerful thick legs. Ahmet simply raised his hand and motioned with his index finger for Peter to approach him and exit the sauna. Maybe it was the heat and his desire to get out of the sauna, or maybe it was the first sign of the breakdown of his free will – but peter simply looked at the floor and complied with the silent command, walking right up in front of the hulking Arab and hanging his head down in submission.

“First your filthy infidel’s body must be cleansed” Ahmet stated as he guided Peter towards the marble platform that dominated the centre of the room. Ahmet donned a sock-like tool over his right hand and proceeded to use it to scrub every square inch of Peter’s body with such vigour that the slave thought he would be rubbed raw. Not even his face was spared as Ahmet pried open Peter’s mouth and grabbed a hold of his lower jaw by inserting his four meaty thick fingers in to fill the slaves mouth while his thumb was positioned underneath the jaw. Peter felt like he was being held in a vice as Ahmet raked and scrubbed the coarse cloth over the slave’s face. After being doused with warm soapy water and rinsed thoroughly, the process of tenderizing the slave’s body began. By the end of the process Peter felt like little more than a slab of meat that was being prepared to be served up on a platter to the waiting Mehmet. In fact that is exactly what he was.

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