Tripoli Shore Leave

The chamber was separated by marble columns into two sections. Beyond the section with the pool was a sexual workout chamber, with a cross-bar and various bondage machines, including stocks, tables with restraints, restraints on the walls, and tables holding ropes, whips, switches, and various penetration toys.

As Sten slowly recovered from having serviced Lovejoy and then five ruffians, attendants came into the chamber and worked on cleaning and pampering the young man's body, putting him into the pool and scrubbing him and anointing him with oils and perfumes. As they worked, the tall man in the elegant thawb who had paid for Sten at the door on the street sat on the edge of one of the couches. He was a handsome man barring a distinct hawk nose. He was of middle age, tall and thin, with dark hair and eyes, and of assured bearing.

"My name is Jozef," he said in a calm voice in accented English. "You are in the pleasure house of Sidi Haji Rahman. You belong to Haji now, who will visit presently to cover and assess you. No one can help you leave here. Your very survival depends on pleasing Haji now and then pleasing whatever men he sells your time to later for as long as you are of use to him. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Sten answered, fully aware of his position, at least for the moment.

"I will be your guide and your friend while you are here. You will want to please me as well as you please Haji. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Sten answered.

"You will be a courtesan here, an exotic one for the tastes of the men of Tripoli. Your survival will depend on how skilled, yielding, and resilient you are. I hope you understand and appreciate that. The more open to the cock you are and the more pleasure you can give men will determine how long you live and can do so in comfort. The men who brought you here said you were experienced with lying under a man. Is that so?"

"Yes," Sten answered. He understood that this is what would benefit him in this situation.

"Very experienced?" the man asked. "Prepared to be yielding?"

"Yes," Sten answered, honestly.

The man smiled, obviously pleased with this answer. He would have said more, as Sten stood at the side of the pool, dry now and perfumed and powdered, and now with gold chains, with tiny bells on his ankles and on his biceps, except the double doors to the chamber opened and a middle-aged, heavy-set Arab strode in, his thawb of the best material, shot through with gold threads. This undoubtedly was the master, Sidi Haji Rahman.

The man stopped by the pool, his eyes drinking in the small, nineteen-year-old blond American, standing there. "Magnificent. Beautiful," he murmured. "He will--"

"I believe he understands what he is expected to do and will provide you good sport."

"Very good. Put him on the couch, Jozef."

As Jozef led Sten to one of the couches, attendants stripped the thawb off Haji, revealing a muscular man, gone to fat, but still powerful of body. His erection was massive; his belly fat wouldn't hinder him in managing to sink deep into Sten's passage. He strode over to the couch and reached down. Within moments he had touched and fondled Sten everywhere, expertly assessing the young man's assets, which, from the sounds the man made, were all that he could hope for.

Playing his part, Sten stretched out, arms reaching out, chest pushed up, open and vulnerable to the man's touch, moaning and panting and moving with the glide of the hands and penetration of the fingers. He raised his arms over his head, grabbing the top edge of the reclining couch, stretching his body out full, spreading his thighs to Haji's touch, and raising one ankle to the Arab's shoulder in a position of total surrender. He responded to the penetration of the fingers, moving his pelvis to slide on the digits. He moaned, but did not resist, as the fingers moved deeper inside him.

As Haji hummed in pleasure at the yielding of the young man, Sten murmured, "Nem, nem--Yes, yes," in the only Arabic he'd learned thus far, adding, "Do what you want," in English, which Haji recognized and awarded with an appreciative grunt. After lifting his mouth and tongue from the young man's body, Haji stroked Sten off with one hand and penetrated him deep, up to the second knuckles, with the fingers of the other. Sten arched his back, rocked on the fingers, and moaned. For a few moments it seemed as if the Arab would bury his fist--and that Sten would in no way resist that--but he didn't.

When Sten had come, Haji came up onto the couch on his knees, pressing them between the young man's open thighs, put an arm under Sten's waist, raising the young sailor's pelvis to him, worked his cock inside Sten's passage, and set up a rhythm of the fuck. Murmuring, "Yes, yes, yes," and the bells on his ankles and biceps tinkling in his rocking movement of receiving and making love to the cock, Sten hugged the man's hips with his knees, pressed his fingertips into the beefy man's shoulders blades and moved in concert to Haji's slow, deep thrusts.

Amazed as he was at the young man's yielding, sensual response to the fuck, Haji groaned in pleasure when he discovered Sten was able to control his passage walls muscles to grip and undulate over the buried shaft, and the Arab gave up his seed before he had planned to. This was an accomplished whore his men had brought to him.

They lay there, panting, moving their hands over the other's body until Haji recovered enough to harden again. He turned Sten onto his belly, the young man yielding all to him, encircled the lad's waist again, lifted his hips off the surface of the couch, mounted and penetrated him, and fucked him again.

The second coupling went as well as the first one, and Sten had reason to think it was over and he'd passed muster with the master. But it wasn't over.

After another period of rest, Haji rose off the couch, motioned to the two bodyguards who had brought Sten up to the chamber. The two came forward.

"Suspend him in the other chamber," he said. He watched as the two bodyguards pulled Sten up from the couch, carried him into the second section of the chamber and suspended him from chains, his wrists bound, from the ceiling of the room.

Naked, Haji came into the chamber, picked up a hand whip, and as Sten whimpered, moaned, and occasionally involuntarily screamed in pain-pleasure, the motion of his body ineffectually trying to avoid the whip sending the bells on his ankles and biceps jingling, suffered briefly--but only briefly and without the full power of Haji's strength behind the whip, the kiss of the lash.

"Take him down. Put him on the prie-dieu stocks," Haji commanded. This device was in the form of a prayer bench, with Sten's spread thighs lashed to the frame, his belly on the rail, and his arms hanging own the other side and strapped to the frame. Haji stood crouched over behind him, an ivory shaft in his hand, working it in Sten's passage as the man regained his erection. When he had, he knelt behind Sten, penetrated him, grabbed a hank of blond hair, pulling Sten's head back, and thrust and thrust and thrust to another breeding.

After Haji had left the chamber and Sten had been released from the bondage device, Jozef helped him over to one of the couches.

"He is very pleased," he said. "You will be a favorite of the house."

He lay the panting young man out his belly on the couch and rubbed the tightness out of Sten's muscles. When he felt the young man relax and sigh, close to dozing off, Jozef pulled his thawb over his head, revealing a gaunt but hard-bodied muscular slender body. He moved over on top of the young man, put the bulb of his erection in place, grasped the youth's wrists, forcing Sten's arms over his head, sank his long, thin cock deep inside the young man's passage, and fucked him hard.

* * * *

Sten would have been embarrassed to admit it, if asked, but, on the whole, he enjoyed the short time he spent in the pleasure house of Sidi Haji Rahman. He was sold to men no more than three times a week; visited by the expert cocksman, Haji, once or twice each week; and covered by Jozef, a lover, nearly every night that he wasn't with a house client. He was given more rest time than he had been accorded on the Imperieuse, he was fed well, he was kept clean and pampered, and the sexual torture fetish aspect, open to any client who would pay for it, was not overused.

Not that he and the client didn't visit the other section of the chamber nearly every time and employ one of the machines or that Sten wasn't fucked bound. For what the clients were paying, they almost always went for something a little extra with the exotic blond young man, who was oh so yielding to their desires. But after fucking him by or in the pool, they had little stamina left for the more athletic taking with the aid of the bondage apparatuses, and few of them had the imagination to put Sten in an overly taxing position.

Still, in addition to being ridden on the couch and in the pool, he was bent over the prie-dieu stocks frame, suspended from the ceiling, put on the cross-bar, and even restrained against the wall, bound to the stone at the wrists, throat, and thighs, with his rump jutting out and the client holding his hips and fucking him from behind.

There generally were three couplings in an evening, three evenings a week. Each time there had been an auction attended by a couple of dozen men. Sten was one of three young men who danced on a stage before the gathered men in diaphanous veils, while the men ogled them and speculated. Then an auction was conducted for each of the young men, in succession, with Sten coming last. The top three bidders in each auction got an hour and a half with the young man they were bidding on. The high bid went first, when the youth was at his freshest. There was a full evening of taking and taxing for the young man followed by at least one day of rest--barring visits from Haji and the attentions of the youth's guide--Jozef, in Sten's case.

Only one client taxed Sten to the limit while he was at the pleasure house. David Lovejoy came to the auction one evening. Surprised at seeing Sten on the stage, dancing, he did what no other client had done before. He demanded the claim of all three sessions with Sten that evening if his bid came in at three times of the next man after him, which it did. Then, after exhausting Sten on the couch with his talent to go to the edge, drain Sten, and then back off on his own ejaculation until Sten was babbling and drained achingly dry, he took Sten to the other section of the chamber and used him on every apparatus that was there, whipping the young man until Sten's screams of pain-passion reverberated through the old palace building.

"No one leaves me in the middle of my pleasure as you did in the Bin Zikri Hotel," he had growled.

"It was late. I didn't stay because I had to get back to the Imperieuse," Sten whimpered.

"And yet you didn't go back to the Imperieuse," Lovejoy said.

Sten was too exhausted at that point to discuss it further.

Jozef and the bodyguards had to intervene when Lovejoy's time was up with Sten stretched out on a rack-type table and Lovejoy on top of him, strapping the young man's buttocks and fucking him hard.

Lovejoy left Sten curled up and babbling on the couch by the pool.

Two days later Sten was being bound at the wrists and ankles and carried down to a cart on the street.

"Why?" he asked Jozef plaintively in passing.

"You have been sold to a client," was Jozef's explanation. "This may be a good thing," he added, his voice not giving the least bit of assurance that it was. Clients who normally bought the young men from the pleasure house used them more roughly and more quickly terminally than the pleasure house did.

The villa to which Sten was carted was also at the top of the town. It was smaller and not as well appointed as the pleasure house. He was carried up to a room at the top of the building, just as where the room had been that Jozef had told him was part of the harem complex of an old palace. This room, like the other, with a pool at one end, and a section with sex bondage apparatuses at the other end, quite possibly had once been a harem as well. The room had windows overlooking the city, windows with strong bars on them.

Sten was standing at one of the windows, looking down into the Tripoli harbor and beyond, to where the Imperieuse and other fighting vessels of the allied nations were at anchor, and thought once again and the likelihood he'd ever serve on the Imperieuse again. That was highly unlikely. No one in his family knew where he was. They didn't even know the name he was going by now. And those on the Imperieuse would just think that he had taken his first opportunity to escape impressment and would never be recovered.

He was on his own, responsible for himself and his own survival.

He heard the double doors out to the corridor opening and he turned in that direction. A glowering David Lovejoy stood in the doorway. He was wearing a robe, but nothing else. The robe was open to reveal that he was in hard erection. He hands were being held in front of him, cradling the strands of a hand whip.

"We begin again," he growled.