CB-129 Arab Sadist’s Slave

They had chained me, Kalir, the leader of the arab terrorists had ordered me chained to a post, in the middle of the compound. I was there for one purpose, and one purpose only; to service the men, all of the soldiers. I had been stripped naked, a chain from the post attached to the collar that was tight around my neck.

It was ridiculous. It was absurd. I was an American, an American journalist, here to do a story. And instead, I was chained, chained down, a sexual toy for the men to play with.

And they wanted to play. Oh, how they wanted to play. Every man in the camp was there. None of them had had any sexual activity for weeks, maybe months. And now they were all waiting, salivating, until it was their turn, until they could have a crack at me.

A man dropped before me, whipping out his throbbing dick. He wanted me to suck on it, he wanted me to take it into my mouth and make it feel good. I felt sick to my stomach. There were so many of them, so very many. I couldn’t move.

But I didn’t have any choice, no choice at all in the matter. The man reached out and grabbed me by the back of the head. Pulling and twisting my hair, he forced me down, my mouth coming closer and closer to that enormous dick.

What would I do? There was no place I could run, no escape. Resisting would be futile. I took that hard dick into my mouth. I took the head and began to suck on it. I would have to suck them, I was going to have to suck them all.