Zanzibar
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by Tied_True, reachable at the big Y!
Subject matter: gay male bondage and control
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After returning home I discovered a small slip of paper
bookmarking the Petra section of my guidebook. On it was written
a Jordanian email address with the name 'Sayeed'. What balls! I
could only assume it was from the Jordanian Desert Patrolman, who
had held me captive over three days during my visit to Petra. He
amazed me yet again with how cocksure he was. At every moment
through my kidnapping ordeal he seemed totally confident that I
liked what he was doing to me, and that in fact I would beg for
it. It galled me that he was so right.

At first I wasn't sure if I'd write to him, or what I would say,
but finally I decided to thank him for my captivity, like a good
slave. After all, it had been by far the hottest sexual
experience of my life, despite not being allowed to cum even
once.

I remembered what it felt like to be splayed out in from of him,
tied down and gagged, ready to be fucked. I will never forget the
feel of his cock pounding me as I struggled uselessly against the
ropes - my own ropes - that he used to bind me. Tied up in the
most vulnerable positions for three days straight he used me like
an animal, and even rented me out to a gang of randy Bedouin. By
the third day I was completely broken, having accepted my new
position in life as his permanent fuck slave. I wanted nothing
more than to feel his cock up my ass or down my throat as he
crisscrossed my butt with his riding crop. But it was not to
last. After three days he released me just in time to catch my
flight home, broken yet again, but accepting of his will.

On my way home from Petra I found that he had photographed the
entire ordeal using my own camera. His audacity astounded me.

Several weeks later I received a reply from him. When I opened it
I was horrified to see a picture of me naked, tied and gagged in
a sandstone wadi in Petra. The message read: "Write to me slave.
Tell me what you do now. - Your Master Always."

He still had me by the balls. Apparently he had downloaded the
pictures from my camera during my captivity. How he managed this
while camping in a desert tent on patrol I don't know. I could
only imagine where on the internet the pix would turn up. I felt
humiliated, exposed and controlled all over again.

I did my best to please him with my reply, even though my chances
of ever seeing him again were very slim. I told him a little
about my life and I let him know I would soon be traveling on
safari in East Africa with four of my friends. I sent him a more
recent picture of myself, naked and on my knees, as if ready to
serve him again.

Just as I was about to leave on my trip I received another
message from him. "Enjoy your trip to Tanzania slave. Where do
you stay in Zanzibar? I have been there once to visit my cousin."

I rushed off an email describing my plans. I would spend a week
in London for work and then head to Zanzibar for the weekend. My
friends would join me two days later and we'd make a quick trip
to down the coast before heading off on the safari. Three weeks
in all - it would be a long and exciting trip to be sure.

**********

Zanzibar's maze of narrow streets made getting lost a pleasure.
Ornate wooden doors fronted ancient Arab palaces, which hid
behind them surely even more Oriental treasures. Spice filled the
air and mystique lurked in the corners. Zanzibar's wealth was
built by Arab traders of spices and slaves, and the fruits of
those exploits were still evident in the rich and alluring
architecture. Surely this was a place where the past was still
present, and where old customs were still in force.

I spent the first day following my whims down one cobbled street
after another until my feet could take no more. Finally I asked a
friendly looking man who was walking past if he knew of a good
cafe nearby.

"Yes, of course!" He said with a broad smile. "There is a cafe
near here with the very best coffee in Africa. It's one of the
oldest coffeehouses in the world. I will take you there!"

I was surprised at his excellent English, but he would not accept
my compliments, saying he still had much to learn. Instead he
started telling me about the coffee shop, which he insisted on
showing me in person, even taking me by the hand to lead me
there.

He obviously wasn't a street tout, so I went along with him. In
fact he was very handsome and nicely muscled in a country where
people were generally thin. In his tight jeans and T-shirt he
would have been at home anywhere in Europe. I guessed that he was
Arab in background, which made sense when he told me his name was
Ahmed.

At the cafe Ahmed insisted on buying for me, and it was indeed
the very best coffee I had ever tasted.

We chatted for a long time - where I was from, my trip, how he
had learned his excellent English, his uncle's export business,
and so on. He was obviously from a privileged family so I was
interested to hear his stories. And his enchanting smile helped
keep my attention too.

At last he got up and said he had to go. It was the end of the
day and he needed to drop by his uncle's warehouse to lock up
after the workers went home. I could go with him if I liked? If I
wanted to see the spice trade from the inside I would never get a
better chance, he said. I couldn't resist.

The spice warehouse a fascinating store room of small kegs and
boxes arranged on shelves and on top of packing crates that
looked truly ancient. Ahmed led me on a smelling tour around the
room, first cinnamon, then cardamom, turmeric, cloves and nutmeg.

As he continued the explanation I suddenly became very drowsy,
and felt an immediate need to sit down. A few seconds later I was
out.

********

I awoke with a start and felt an aching pain in my shoulders,
arms and hamstrings. I tried to move but couldn't lower my arms,
which were pulled up behind me. I panicked, and tried to call out
but found I was gagged. Now I really panicked and started
struggling to move in any way possible, but realized I was in
bondage, bent over at the waist, my arms bound together and
pulled up behind me, probably hanging from the ceiling somehow,
while my knees and ankles were also tied tightly to each other.
My mouth was stuffed with a gag which was held in place by
something tied very tight around my head. Fuck! How did this
happen to me?!

I screamed into the gag but hardly any sound came out. I
struggled against the bondage, but quickly realized it only made
the pain in my arms and shoulders worse. I tried to reposition
myself to ease my aching muscles but the bondage was tight and
had very little play. I was definitely fucked.

And getting fucked could be a distinct possibility in this
position. My ass was completely exposed. My cock and balls were
pushed back and held in place behind my legs, which were tied
together by rough fiber ropes around my knees and ankles. It felt
like something was tied around my balls, making them plump and
vulnerable in their sack, but I couldn't be sure. I was trussed
up like a chicken on the block.

And my head ached. I must have been drugged. I realized I was
completely naked, and it must have been Ahmed who betrayed me.
Fuck! How could this be happening again?

I grunted into the gag again as loud as I could in the hopes of
attracting help. As I heard footsteps approaching me slowly from
behind I wondered if that was such a good idea. I could hear what
sounded like a crop of some kind slapping against the palm of a
hand and I was pretty sure where it would be landing next.

"Hello again, my slave. Did you enjoy the tour?" It was Ahmed.
How could he be doing this to me?!

He continued to stand behind me, so it was impossible to see what
he was doing, but I could hear him. He seemed to be playing with
a switch, idly slapping it against his open palm. I had a bad
feeling about this.

"Yes, you are my slave boy now," he said. "You know we are famous
for owning and trading slaves here in Zanzibar. And I now own
you."

"I own all of you," he continued after a moment, still standing
behind me.

"I own this," he said as he tapped the switch against my cock,
which was trapped behind my legs and facing him.

"I own these," he said as he gave my vulnerable balls a little
slap.

Mmmmph!

"Yes, I own this," he insisted with a more serious slap of the
crop to one butt cheek. "And this," with an equally forceful blow
to the other.

Mmmmmph! Mmmmmmph!

"Yes, slave, I own all of you," he told me, as he traced the
switch up and down my legs, across my back, along my arms and
under my belly, before returning to my vulnerable cock and balls.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! I groaned in pain and bit into my gag as the
switch rained down on my balls. It hadn't been that hard but it
was painful enough. It was clear that he could inflict some
serious pain if he wanted to.

"Do I own all of you now, slave?"

"Mmmmeph Mmmir!" I grunted into my gag as best I could, nodding
my head vigorously. I tried pleading with my eyes, but he wasn't
looking.

"You know what, slave? It doesn't matter what you think. I own
you, and you don't have any say in it. That's what it means to be
a slave."

He proceeded to demonstrate that to me. Without any further fuss,
he just unzipped and took the plunge. There was nothing I could
do to resist, tied up with my arms in the air behind me. He
slipped right in like he was coming home. Given the position I
was in, his entry was remarkably easy.

With his first stroke he let out a sigh of relief like a parched
man who had just quenched a mighty thirst. He picked up speed
immediately, which got my cock hard in no time. He kept up the
pace like he was running from a bull, not savoring any of it. His
thrusts rocked me back and forth like a puppet attached to his
cock.

After just a few minutes he let out a roar like he had never
experienced an orgasm before, cumming deep inside of me, and then
pulling out just as fast as he had barged in. He collapsed into a
nearby chair.

I was left standing there, tied up and now extremely horny. My
cock and balls were still held captive behind my legs, vulnerable
to any attack from behind, just like my upturned ass, which was
leaking his still-hot jism. I wondered what would come next.

After 10 or 15 minutes he had recovered and was a changed man. He
ran his hands gently over my body, exploring it for the first
time. He was caressing me, almost making love to me with his
hands. His touch reassured me and calmed my fears over my
desperate situation. Although I had become a tied and naked sex
slave in a foreign land, I was at least being shown some
affection.

He tugged experimentally on my Prince Albert cock piercing and on
my nipple rings. He seemed especially intrigued by the PA, as if
he was contemplating its potential uses. I was still hard from
the fucking, and now he was teasing my cock, lightly rubbing the
sensitive glans. He stroked me until I started jostling a little
in my bondage, almost involuntarily, and then he stopped. He
patted my back as he would steady a restless mare. I was just an
animal under his control.

"You are a good slave, and I will take care of you." He said,
stepping back from me. "But you must obey me or the punishment
will be very harsh indeed." With that he threw down a heavy blow
from the switch to my ass. I screamed into the gag from the
unexpected pain.

"Quiet, slave!" He delivered another harsh blow. This time I kept
quiet, although the second blow was even more painful.

"Good slave. You know that I am serious now, don't you?"

I nodded my head vigorously.

"Good. I expect you to remain quiet at all times, slave. Any
noise at all will be severely punished."

I believed him, and I resigned myself to fate. I decided to go
along with the situation until I saw a chance for escape.

"Now," he continued, "It is time to take you to your new home.
Remember, any noise at all and you will regret it."

He stepped away for a few minutes and then returned dragging a
large old fashioned steamer trunk. I knew immediately what was
going to happen.

Using the wench that had evidently been sustaining my bondage, he
lowered my arms, which was a huge relief. As I crumpled to the
floor he guided me sideways into the open trunk and when I was
mostly inside he quickly tipped it on its side so that I slumped
all the way in. He closed top without hesitation.

Now I was crouched in the fetal position, with my arms tied
behind me and my knees and ankles bound tightly together. My cock
and balls were still trapped behind my legs. I was gagged and in
total darkness. I heard the soft click of a lock outside the
trunk. Now I was just a piece of cargo, ready to be shipped to
who knows where.

After a few minutes I heard voices approaching, speaking Swahili.
I considered making noise and trying to move around inside my
prison, but I remembered Ahmed's warning and took it very
seriously. I decided to wait for a better chance later.

My crate was lifted by at least two men, and loaded on to what I
assumed was a small cart. We were off. The air changed after a
moment and I figured we were out on the street. The cart bumped
along the cobblestones and turned repeatedly as we worked our way
through the maze of alleys that make up Stone Town.

Finally I heard Ahmed's voice again, and then the opening of what
must have been an ancient door. My trunk was again being carried
by several men. We went up a flight of stairs until I was
eventually deposited in a quiet place. The voices receded and I
was left there in total darkness and complete silence.

After a few more minutes I heard a pair of footsteps returning,
and then the unlatching of the lock. Ahmed opened the door to the
trunk sideways, and I fell out onto the floor. I was staring at
his shoes, standing on top of a beautiful Persian rug.

"Welcome to your new home, slave." He said. "Here, you are both
my prisoner and my guest." I was left lying on the floor for a
few minutes to contemplate just what that meant.

After several minutes Ahmed returned with a basin and a
washcloth. He proceeded to give me a sponge bath right there,
cleaning me with great affection. I did feel like a guest in a
way, despite being tied and gagged and at his feet. My cock
hardened once again. Ahmed responded with an enormous smile.

After the washing Ahmed returned with a tray of food and some
water, which he set on top of a small table next to me. He pulled
over a chair, and began to eat. After several bites he reached
down and removed my gag, to the relief of my aching jaw.

"Does my slave want some food and water?" He asked.

"Yes, Master." I replied. "Please."

"You must beg for it, slave!" He told me.

"Please, Master!" I begged. "Please feed your devoted slave."

He seemed pleased by my obsequiousness, probably not realizing I
had played this game before. He rewarded me with a delicious
morsel of lamb, and we continued like that for the rest of the
meal. I had become just an animal to him. He had me eating out of
his hand.

After dinner he stood me up and pulled me forward by the balls.
He made me hop to the bathroom, which was another relief. Along
the way I could see that the house was small palace, with lavish
furnishings matching the ornate Omani architecture of the Arab
period of Zanzibar. I was a sultan's slave now, and almost
grateful for it.

He led me back to the bedroom and onto the giant canopy bed,
which looked like a sultan's harem with the mosquito netting
hanging down from the four poster canopy. The sturdy wooden posts
already had silk scarves tied to each corner, and I could imagine
what was coming next.

He proceeded to tie me to the bed as I had suspected. He
positioned me face down in the center of the bed and raised my
arms up behind me again. Using another length of rope he pulled
them up and towards the headboard canopy bar, where he tied off
the rope, leaving my arms in a painful position.

Then, evidently having me safely secured, he untied the ropes
from my legs and retied each of them to the far corners of the
foot posts using the silk scarves. Only then did he lower my arms
one at a time to secure them flat in front of me to the corners
of the headboard. Apparently he was taking no chances with my
escape.

I was now comfortably spread eagle on the bed, with my ass up and
my cock underneath me. Perhaps I was too comfortable because
Ahmed pulled my cock down towards the foot of the bed so that the
underside was no longer touching the bed. Evidently I would not
be allowed to pleasure myself by fucking the bed. As if to make
sure of that Ahmed looped a string through my PA ring and tied
the other end to the foot of the bed. Now I would not be able to
bring my cock forward no matter what.

Once I was secured, Ahmed helped himself to my ass again. This
time he was only slightly less rushed. He fucked me like he
hadn't gotten his rocks off in months. As before, he was
remarkably smooth, and I even enjoyed the ride. I thought back to
Sayeed's huge cock and figured he had broken me, turning me into
complete cock slave. I never imagined I could enjoy being fucked
so much.

But I guess I wasn't going to enjoy it in the traditional sense.
There would be no cumming for me. After he unleashed another load
of cum in my ass Ahmed just slipped off the bed without a word
and left the room, switching off the light on his way. I was left
there hard and horny, but unable to do anything about it with my
cock tied in the wrong position and my hands and feet spread
eagled to the corners of the bed.

**********

I awoke to the sensation of a cock entering my ass again. It was
Ahmed, and he was taking no prisoners. He gave me a vigorous fuck
this time, with powerful thrusts using the entire length of his
cock. He went on for a long time, pausing to catch his breath at
intervals. It was still the middle of the night, and the only
sound around was the slapping of his balls against my ass and his
grunts of pleasure. This was his third time fucking me since the
late afternoon. I was amazed at his stamina.

Finally he shot into me and pulled off. He seemed completely
exhausted. At first I thought he would pass out right there on
the bed with me, but eventually he got up and left. Once again, I
was left incredibly excited, but entirely frustrated.

In the morning I was wakened by chirping birds before Ahmed came
in to fuck me yet again. He seemed to be making up for lost time.
He must have had a bad case of blue balls, like the one I was now
developing. I had slept only fitfully, each time waking with a
hard on and the sensation of his cock in my ass, either real or
imagined. In my dreams I was being fucked repeatedly by Sayeed,
by Ahmed, by the gang of Bedouin at Petra, by townspeople in the
village square where I was spread out and tied for all to see,
with my ass turned up and open to all comers. I was on the slave
block and the buyers were allowed to sample the wares before the
auction. My mouth was gagged and my cock was held down, unable to
get relief. The traders rained down sharp blows on my ass with
riding crops they wielded like weapons. Old Zanzibar was only the
beginning of a lifetime of slavery for a newly captured slave
like me.

Modern Zanzibar wasn't turning out much different. Ahmed finally
pulled out, leaving me exhausted, although he was apparently
quite fulfilled. He was full of energy now, and went about
retying me with my hands behind my back and with my ankles tied
to my upper legs so my legs remained permanently bent. He
frogmarched me to the bathroom, and then back to the bedroom,
where I was unceremoniously dumped on the Persian carpet.

A few minutes later he returned with breakfast, which he I had to
eat from a bowl on the floor like a dog. With my hands tied
behind me I really did feel like a dumb animal, but I was
grateful he was at least feeding me.

After breakfast it was back on the bed to be tied face up this
time, where I remained the entire day with no sign of Ahmed. Only
the devious bondage he had used on me in kept me company.

All day I lay there tied to the bed's four corners, ass plugged,
mouth gagged, and with my balls, nips and cock strung up.

Once tied, Ahmed had inserted a large black dildo up my ass. It
was huge, and unlike his cock it was not at all comfortable. I
was incredibly surprised to see such a thing here in Muslim
Zanzibar, especially one with a leather waist harness that he
proceeded to strap around my waist, through my crotch and up my
ass crack, pushing the dildo in even further.

"This is to remind you of me while I am away," he said, as he
proceeded to lock the straps together with a small padlock. It
hardly seemed necessary -- with my hands and feet tied to the
four corners of the bed I couldn't have unbuckled the thing
anyway.

The pressure from the huge dildo on my prostate kept me hard and
horny all day, as did the constant tension on my nipples and cock
from the string Ahmed had tied connecting all three of them. The
string was tied through my two nipple rings and through my Prince
Albert cock piercing, pulling all three towards the center of my
belly. I was forced to flex my abdomen forward a little to
relieve the tension on my body's three most sensitive points, but
this was hard to do with my arms and legs tied spread eagle as
they were.

The cord tied around my balls aggravated the situation, since it
was tied off to the footboard of the bed, pulling in the opposite
direction from the nipple-cock-nipple triangle. I spent all
afternoon doing slow motion abdominal crunches, repeatedly
transferring the tension from one sensitive body part to another.


**********

Well after sunset Ahmed returned, taking a seat on the bed next
to me.

"Hello, slave," he said. "Did you miss me today?"

I nodded yes, since it was true. I was aching, thirsty, hungry,
and eager for his attention again, even if it did involve getting
spanked and fucked and pinched and tied for hours in
uncomfortable positions. The Stockholm Effect had set in and I
was bonding to my captor. On top of it all I was horny as hell
and my ass was desperate to expel the massive invader that Ahmed
had strapped into place.

"I'm going to remove the gag," Ahmed told me, "because I think my
slave will be well behaved, won't he?"

I nodded yes, and looked as subservient as I possibly could.

He offered me a drink of water and I eagerly drank the whole
glass. "Thank you, Master," I said quietly after I finished. He
looked pleased.

Ahmed reached over and began to stoked my chest in that soothing
way that gave me so much trust in him.

"I'm going to confess some things to you, slave, so listen
carefully and do not speak," he began.

"First of all, you are my slave now, and you always will be. You
will always obey my commands as long as you live, and I will
forever be superior to you. It will always be that way."

"You are a good slave, and although we once trade many slaves
here in Zanzibar, you will not be traded or sold. In fact, you
will leave Zanzibar on Wednesday with your friends as planned,
and you will leave this house tomorrow to be at your hotel in
time to meet them when they arrive. You life will continued as
you had planned."

At this point I was shocked that he knew so much about me, but I
remained silent as he had instructed. I imagined that he would
have gone through my backpack, but how could he have known about
my friends coming in?

I gazed up at him attentively, and he continued talking as his
hands roamed around my body, lightly teasing here, occasionally
pinching there. He began strumming the tight cord that tied my
nipple rings and my PA together, increasing the tension on them
even more.

"By now you must have realized it was not an accident that we
met. You see, I have a master of my own, and he told me you were
coming here."

Now I was even more confused, but as he tugged sharply on the
cord that held me in sexual tension, it came into focus.

"You know who I mean, slave?"

I nodded. He was talking about Sayeed, the Jordanian park ranger
who held me captive for three days at Petra last fall. Sayeed was
his Master, and had told him about my visit here. I had given
Sayeed all the details of my trip to Zanzibar, including the fact
that I was coming two days before my other friends.

By now Ahmed had his hand circled around my tethered balls, and
he was starting to squeeze. As if I would lose at attention at
this point!

"Sayeed is my Master, and I am your Master. You are a slave to
both of us. Master Sayeed has granted me this privilege over
you."

"Master Sayeed is my cousin," he continued. "Third cousin
actually, as you Americans say." My balls were really getting the
squeeze now. "I have been his slave since I was 14.  Our families
are not close, but we are able to see each other often enough. At
other times he keeps control over me via webcam."

I must have looked a little shocked because Ahmed gave my balls a
sharp slap. "You think we are too backwards in Zanzibar for
webcams?"

I shook my head no as earnestly as I could.

"Good boy! You remembered not to speak! Master Sayeed was right
that you are an excellent slave." He released his grip on my
balls and went back to teasing me with his feather light touch.

"I have enjoyed my weekend with you, and I'm sorry that it will
soon end. This is the first time I have been allowed to cum in 13
months. Master Sayeed keeps me in a chastity belt, which he
monitors on the webcam."

If I had looked incredulous before, it was really obvious now. 
Ahmed just smiled and said, "Yes, we have those too here in
Zanzibar. Imported from the US, of course. Master makes me wear a
CB-3000."

I could barely believe my ears. Could this weekend possibly be
more bizarre?

"Master allowed me out this weekend especially because of you. He
wanted to reward me for my faithful service to him, and he wanted
you to experience total domination again, even if by extension
through me."

My head was reeling at this point. Chastity belt? Webcams? Total
domination? That had certainly been the case. I hadn't felt so
controlled since I was last with Sayeed. And here I thought that
lightning had struck twice in my life.

"You may not believe all of this just yet, but it is true, just
as surely as you will remain my slave your entire life. I know
that you have already accepted your fate, slave." He gave a
single stroke his finger along the super sensitive ridge of my
cock, which was pure ecstasy. "Why else would you have remained
hard all day?"

Of course he was right. Then, as if to answer my quizzical look,
he pointed to a small webcam that was peeking out from behind a
wall sconce. He had been watching me all day!

"When you are at home, slave," he told me, "We will keep in touch
on IM, and you will get used to being watched by me and others
via webcam. There is no privacy for a slave."

I wasn't sure about that, but at the moment I was in no position
to argue. "Yes, Sir." I told him.

Having finished explaining the circumstances of my weekend
captivity, Ahmed stuffed the gag back in my mouth and tied it off
tightly. He went out of the room again, leaving me there horny
and helpless, tied spread eagle to the bed, teased and randy,
with a big plug up my ass and a cord stretching my balls to the
foot of the bed. Another cord was tied between my PA and my
nipples rings, leaving my upper body in a high tension tease that
I had already endured for hours.

Some time later he was back with dinner. He fed me by hand again,
propping my head up with a pillow so I didn't choke. He kept me
tied to the bed, and continued to tease me using the cords tying
my cock and nipples, adding in his own feather touch fingers to
tickle my underarms or my chest, or pinch my inner legs or balls.
It was the most distracting meal I had ever enjoyed.

"You know, slave, this is not my house." He told me. "It belongs
to my uncle who is coming back tomorrow."

So my new master was not a sultan after all, I thought to myself.
But that didn't change anything in my mind. He was still my
Master.

"I will release you tomorrow, but until then you must remain in
bondage." Ahmed continued. "Master Sayeed has said it must be
so."

"I am to take pictures and send them to him," he went on. "I
already have a few from the warehouse and I will take some more
now. Slaves do not have privacy, so the pictures will be posted
on the internet."

I was unhappy about that, but I bit my tongue. Sayeed had
probably already posted the pictures of me at Petra, now that I
thought about it.

"Master Sayeed instructed me to keep you in bondage all weekend,
but he didn't say how or where. Or what I could do with you."
Ahmed told me. "So I have decided you will sleep next to me
tonight, slave. I have not slept with a man in a long time."

It sounded romantic, except for the fact that I was his unwilling
prisoner, and that I would remain tied hand and foot. I wasn't
sure if I should thank my new master for the privilege or not.

Ahmed cleared away the food and after a taking a few photos he
prepared me for bed. I remained tied the whole time, but at last
the tension cords on my cock, balls and nipples came off, and the
diabolical dildo was removed from my ass. I was cleaned up and
given a brief but glorious massage.

Back in bed Ahmed bound my wrists in front of me and then tied
them off to one of the headboard posts. My ankles and knees were
also tied tightly together with silk scarves. Once again he
deliberately trapped my cock and balls behind my legs, and I was
unable to bring my tackle forward to its normal position at the
front of my body.

As I lay on my side Ahmed snuggled me, his hands teasing my
trapped cock and balls, which were directly facing his crotch. It
was maddening to be teased like that with no chance of relief.
Ahmed's touch was electric, and I grew even harder than before.

Of course there would be no release for me. Instead Ahmed pushed
his cock into me again, fucking me as I lay there on my side next
to him, bound hand and foot.

As he fucked me he reached around to play with my nipples,
tugging on the rings, pinching them, and rubbing them with my own
saliva. His hand made several deep explorations of my mouth as
his cock did the same in my ass. I was nearly gagging while being
stuffed in the ass. He tunneled deeper into my ass and I let out
a low groan, which he silenced with his hand held tightly over my
mouth. His legs were rubbing against my cock head as he balled
me, but not enough for me to get close to coming.

As he played with my tits, fucked my ass and teased my cock
through the closeness of his body I realized I had never seen
Ahmed naked, and had never seen his cock. Thinking back I
remembered I had never seen Sayeed's cock or body either. Both
men had always fucked me from behind, like I was some animal they
just used for their pleasure.

Of course that's exactly what I was - just an animal to be
manhandled. Ahmed's cock reminded me of that with every thrust.
He was always clothed, even while fucking me, and I was always
naked like the slave he had made me.

The fucking and teasing continued until my nipples were sore and
I wondered if my ass could take any more. From time to time Ahmed
paused for a moment, as if to catch his breath, but I could still
feel his dick throbbing inside of me. Thirteen months of chastity
was cumming inside of me. He seemed determined to make the most
of his freedom this weekend.

I tried to imagine him in a CB-3000, with Sayeed having the only
key. I wondered if Sayeed fucked him during their rare visits. I
tried to imagine Ahmed getting fucked in the same way as me, but
I couldn't complete the image. With his insistent cock drilling
in to me I just couldn't see Ahmed as a bottom. His cock did not
belong in a chastity belt. Slave cocks were meant to be locked up
and controlled by their masters. Ahmed's cock was clearly a lion
on the hunt.

Ahmed's pride would be hard to contain in a CB-3000. I was
familiar with the plastic cock cage, and had even worn one for
more than three weeks. My friend Damien had tricked me into a
losing bet when we first met and played around. The penalty was a
week in the chastity belt with demerit days if my cocksucking
failed to please him during daily check-ins. Damien loved having
control of my cock and I hated it. At night I had painful
erections as my cock fought against its prison. During the day I
could think of nothing else except my captive prick. Damien made
matters worse my teasing me to the edge of orgasm repeatedly,
always while tied up in one vulnerable position or another. Often
he fucked me, which teased me even more, especially when I
endured the cage while getting fucked.

Ahmed's pounding suddenly stepped up the pace and brought me back
to reality. I could tell he was close to coming. As he released
another flood up my ass I thought about Damien -- he would be
here in Zanzibar tomorrow. If Ahmed let me go as promised I would
meet Damien and my other friends at the hotel in the afternoon.
What would I tell them about my weekend in captivity? They would
probably assume I had planned the whole thing all along. Would I
be able to hide from them such an incredible experience?

Ahmed had stopped fucking me, but had left his big cock filling
my ass. He lay motionless and I wondered if he'd just fall asleep
like that, keeping me stuffed all night. But eventually he pulled
out and fell asleep with his arm around my bound body.

Sleeping was not so easy for me. I was horned up like never
before, and yet completely unable to do something about it. My
thoughts drifted between Ahmed, Sayeed, Damien, and how I had
craved bondage since childhood. I always fantasized about being
treated like this, but the reality was quite different. Unlike my
fantasies, I really had no control in this situation, and it was
much more frustrating than I had imagined. My cock throbbed
uselessly behind me, trapped behind my legs, and trapped by my
desires.

At dawn Ahmed fucked me again, but this time it was rather more
mechanical. The fucking seemed to say 'I'm doing this to prove a
point'. The point was that I was a slave, with no control of my
body, and no release for my cock.

After he finished Ahmed re-tied me to the bed spread eagle and
left me for a long time. Finally he returned carrying my clothes,
my backpack and some other things.

"Before you leave I have a gift for you, slave." He said.

He showed me a phallic looking gourd of some kind. It was cut off
at one end and had what looked like a coin slot on the other.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked. No, I told him, but I was
afraid I did. It looked some kind of organic dildo, and I could
guess where it would be going.

"This is the fruit of the Sausage Tree that grows here in
Tanzania. This is a small one -- normally they are bigger." He
explained. "The outer shell is hard, but the inside can be
cleaned out."

He turned the gourd so I could peer down the tube. "I am going to
put it on you cock."

It slowly dawned on me why he would do that.

While I contemplated the implications he proceeded to feed one
end of a twine through the coin slot of the gourd and down the
tube. He then looped the twine around my PA ring, and tied it off
to itself about two inches up. My cock was still too hard to fit
into the tube by any means, so he lifted up my balls and started
slapping them repeatedly. I cried out in pain.

"Quiet, slave! Or you will feel much worse." He scolded. "Make it
go down."

With my balls in total agony my cock wilted in just a few
seconds, but Ahmed didn't stop until it was totally limp. I was
almost delirious with pain, and I barely noticed as he pulled the
twine to guide my cock up the shaft into the gourd. It was not
really wide enough, even for my limp cock, but it was longer than
it seemed so it took repeated tugs on my PA ring to pull my cock
head towards the closed end of the tube. Once it was there Ahmed
continued to jiggle the string until a semi circle of the PA ring
was poking out through the coin slot.

Out of nowhere he produced a little brass padlock and quickly fed
the hasp through my PA ring and snapped it shut. I had a sinking
feeling in my stomach as I realized I had just been locked into
an all-natural chastity belt.

"The Maasai use the fruit of the Sausage Tree to hold milk. They
say it makes the milk tastes sweeter." Ahmed explained. "Now it
is going to hold your little sausage, and I'm sure it will make
your milk sweeter after only a few days."

Ahmed was grinning at his fiendish little joke, but I wasn't so
happy. It was clear that the gourd would not be coming off the
cock while my PA ring was locked at the end. I saw that the ball
of my PA ring was trapped inside the gourd, so I couldn't remove
my jewelry to free my cock either. I was cock locked, and Ahmed
had pocketed the key.

He untied the twine and tapped against the hard shell a few
times. My cock was completely sealed. The gourd was slightly too
long for my flaccid cock, so the PA ring pulled my cock forward a
bit, adding some erotic tension to my cock head. I would be horny
and yet unable to get hard all at the same time. He couldn't have
come up with a more devious scheme.

At last Ahmed untied me from the bed. I stretched my aching
muscles, and he gave me a quick shoulder massage which reminded
me what a considerate master he was.

"You must go now, slave." He told me. "I will see you tomorrow.
Meet me at the Old Slave Market near Creek Road at one o'clock.
And bring you friends. I want to meet them."

Ahmed could see the hesitation in my face. He grabbed both my
nipple rings and pinched hard. "Look me in the eyes, slave, and
tell me you will be there!"

"Yes, Sir!" I obeyed. "I will be there. And I will bring my
friends for you to meet."

Now I would have to explain at least something to my friends, and
since I'm a very bad liar the whole story would probably come
out. I resigned myself to the fact that a slave really doesn't
have any privacy.

Ahmed told me to get dressed, although my underwear was missing.
I kept quiet and assumed he was keeping a souvenir.

As we walked downstairs I admired the luxury and style of the
villa where I had spent the weekend in captivity. A felt a twinge
of regret that I could not remain here forever as Ahmed's
permanent slave, although in a way my chastity cage was an
enduring reminder of my servitude to him.

At the ancient front door he peeked his head out on to the street
before quickly pushing me outside and closing the door behind me.
No tender kiss goodbye -- slaves are just discarded when they are
no longer used, apparently. And wise masters were not seen on the
streets with their slaves in Zanzibar I figured.

Back at the hotel when my friends arrived I refrained from
telling them anything. I knew it would come out later. For now I
tried to return to my normal life.

Of course, I was still wearing Ahmed's chastity belt, and I
assumed he would unlock me the next day at the slave market. I
tossed and turned all night as my cock pressed in vain against
the sides of the gourd from my normal nighttime erections. It was
clear there would be no sexual release while wearing the thing.

The next day I led everyone on a walking tour and conveniently
managed to be at the slave market at one o'clock. Ahmed was
there, and he greeted me like an old friend. My friends looked
very surprised at first, but then quickly made assumptions that I
must have been busy in Zanzibar's ancient bath houses and left it
at that.

Ahmed greeted each one of them, shaking hands and exchanging a
few words with each. As we looked around the old slave market
together he fell into conversation with Damien, and the two of
them seemed to become fast friends. It figured. Damien was such a
gregarious extravert he quickly engaged everyone he met. As they
wandered off together I thought I saw Ahmed hand him something,
which produced a hearty laughter from both of them.

When it was time to part Ahmed pulled me aside and whispered,
"I'm leaving your little cock in the care of your friend, my
slave. You will be in touch with me via webcam when you get home.
I expect you to still be wearing the gift I gave you."

I looked over at Damien, who flashed me an impish grin. I pleaded
with my eyes to Ahmed, but he ignored me, and just turned to wish
the group goodbye.

With that he left us, and I had a sinking feeling about the next
two weeks of my East African vacation. I had been cock locked in
Zanzibar!

END

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by Tied_True, reachable at the big Y!
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