Power Trip

I squeezed my torn ass tight around his pistoning rod, and milked it as best as I could.

"That's it, cunt. That's it. That's so good. You are the best fuck. The best fuck. Everyone is going to love you. Turku. You have to feel this. You just have to."

"As soon as you are finished, my brother," said Turku, hammering my pharynx.

Mugar nodded. He started to go into the short shoves. He would have loved to have stretched this out all night long, but he felt compelled to give Turku a crack at my asscrack.

""AAAGGGHHH. AAAAGGHHHH. AAAGGGHHH," sighed Mugar happily as he dumped his cum deep inside me. "Such a good fuck. Such a good fuck," he repeated in appreciation. Even now I was feeling little squirts of liquid shooting out into me. When it was finally over, he moved aside and rested, as Turku slammed his long prick into me. At least I was wet now. Wet and open. So it wasn't hurting so much. Turku pulled my asscheeks up toward the base of his prick and began hunching into me.

"Oh. You are right, brother. This bitch has such a nice hot pussy. And you have gotten it so nice and slick for me. My cock is just floating in and out of this nice tight cunt. So smoothly. So easily." Turku was a better fucker than Mugar, I guess, because it didn't seem to bother me so much now.

"Milk my cock, bitchcunt," he ordered, and I again tightened my channel around his pistoning rod. If I hadn't been tied to the bedposts, I would have wanted to raise my legs up and hold his hot masculine body into me. I would have wanted to fold my arms around them and press his insistent asscheeks, as he fucked my own. But I couldn't. My hands were tied. My legs were tied. I tried to move my mouth in front of his, so that he could plunge his tongue into it. He saw what I was trying to do, and he laughed. "Not today, bitchcunt. Not today." And he spat into my mouth.

But now he was moving a little faster. His asshunches were tighter. He was going to add his cum to his brother's. I was now the official Al Habbar family cumdump. I continued to milk his cock, even as the milk spilled into me.

"You were right, brother," said Turku. "This one is the best. Truly a great bitchcunt. 'Now'," said Turku.

I didn't know what 'now' meant. But Mugar got up from the bed and went over to his clothes on the desk chair. He took something out of a pocket. A small, hinged, leather case. He approached the bed. I was still lying lazily under Turku, enjoying the feeling of his softening dick up my ass. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mugar opening the hinged case. He took out something. It was a hypodermic needle. Before I could react, I felt a sharp sting in my upper arm, and.................

I was in a warm rosy darkness. A totally pain-free, thought-free blissful state. Everything was so beautiful. So. Beautiful. It was like I was flying. Just like I was flying. Then my mind started to become a little more aware. I was flying. I was on a plane. I opened my left eye. I was on a plane. A very small plane. A private plane. I was lying on a red silk sofa. The silk was smooth against my cheek. Across from me were Turku and Mugar, once again in flowing caftans, sitting in lounge chairs, drinking tall glasses of whiskey on the rocks. My mouth was so dry. That wonderful warm floating feeling was fleeing. I started to move my tongue around my dry mouth and even attempted to sit up. Turku looked at Mugar. Mugar looked at Turku.

Mugar got up. He picked up the hinged case, which was sitting on a table atop a stack of western girlie magazine. He crossed to a small refrigerator, and took out a small vial from between the many bottles of champagne. He shook it. He withdrew the hypodermic from the hinged case and stuck it through the cork of the vial. He pulled out the plunger. The next dose of my narcotic was now in the needle. He crossed over to me and bent down. He lifted the hem of my caftan.....I was in a caftan too???---He lifted the hem of my caftan and stuck the needle into my left buttcheek. He pressed the plunger. The rosy darkness arose to swallow me. So warm, so thought-free, so pain-free, so blissful. I could easily get addicted.

I was on a plane trip. Not a power trip. And during the trip I must have come out of my stupor around five more times, and been redrugged. One time, I came awake, to find Turku's cock, plunging up and down in my upraised ass. I couldn't blame Turku. My ass was there. It was available. Why not use it? If I had started to get into getting fucked, when they first raped me, imagine how fantastic it felt, now that I was all drugged up. You can't imagine. Or maybe you can.

Both our caftans were raised and his warm zombers rested on my asscheeks, as his jeesh worked in and out of me. I couldn't help but respond. My asshole started to tighten itself around his sweet jeesh. He turned his head and looked at Mugar. Mugar smiled. I guess they were smiling at each other. They knew I was awake and loving it. Eventually the thick white Turkujuice shot out into the opening between my cheeks. This liquid was also addictive. I was getting to need it. As the large thick Turku needle withdrew from me, the fine steel needle in Mugar's hand went into my right buttcheek. Again the rosy darkness. But before it claimed me totally, I felt Mugar's hairy zombers against my now motionless, receptive globes.

Once when I came awake, I realized we were no longer on the plane. I was being bounced along on the back of a camel. Mugar was behind me, holding the reins with one hand, his other hand around my waist, supporting me against him. The camel's hump was pressing into my balls. It was slightly painful.

He knew in a second when I started to come out of the coma. I began to raise my lolling head only to see Turku ride up beside us on another camel. The hinged case was conveniently in the same hand, which held the reins.

This time the needle went into my arm and I was back in my rosy glow.

I don't know how many days we traveled over the desert. Several, I think. Occasionally when I woke, they fed me dates and water. It was blisteringly hot, and I probably would have died without refreshment. But eventually they always put me back to sleep. I don't know why. I wasn't going anywhere? I was in the middle of the desert on the back of a camel? Was I going to escape? But they just kept drugging me. I liked the drugs. So warm, so rosy, so pain-free, so-thought-free, so blissful. I wished that I would never have to wake up. I had a habit now, and I loved it.

After a long time, I came awake in a tent. First I was lying on the sand, and many dark bearded men were taking off my sweaty caftan. They carried me to a pool of water that was actually inside the tent. A small desert oasis. They lowered me into the warm water and began bathing me with scented oils. My hair, my skin.....They got inside all my little openings and crevices. I felt wonderfully clean. I looked around for Turku and Mugar, but they were gone. Obviously they had sold me to this desert tribe. I saw only men there. No women. There were two pools in the tent. One for drinking and one for bathing. One of the men filled a cup from the other pool and brought it to my mouth. I gulped it gratefully. They fed me small pieces of dates and coconuts. Sweet dates. Sweet coconut. Sweet water.

Several of the men lifted me out of my bath. They dried me tenderly with bits of shiny multi-colored fabric. Then they brought over a large hookah. A water pipe. They filled it from the drinking-water pool, and added some thick brown paste into the pipe bowl and lit it. Now there was a verbal buzz. A commotion. They passed the pipe from one to the other and each took a puff or two. All the while, they seemed to be praying. It was like a religious ceremony of some kind.

Eventually it was my turn. I took a puff. They made me take another. And another. And another. Finally I was semi-insensible. I felt many hands turn me over on a silky mat spread across the sand. I was naked. My ass was in the air. I could barely interpret what was happening, but it seemed as if all the many men---maybe fifty, maybe sixty, were stripping off their rough desert robes. There were many, many naked men around me now. All with large stiff cocks. I felt someone crawl over me and feed his cock into my hole. I barely felt anything, being in such a drugged stupor. But what I felt, felt delicious. I felt the cock shoot hot milk into my ass, only to be replaced by another cock. And another. And another.

There would be no more power trips. I was now, forever, the bitchcunt pussy slave of a tribe of male desert nomads, who would fuck me endlessly from now until the end of time. I was a living cumbucket. But they were keeping me clean, and giving me food, and drink, and drugs, and cock. Lots of drugs. Lots of cock. Life was good. Life was very, very good.