Part 1: Dao on the Block

Dubai is a place where you would swear people have so much money they don't know what to do with it. It's not uncommon to see million-dollar supercars cruising the newly-paved boulevards, supercharged dream machines capable of 200+ mph.

Construction of hotels and business skyscrapers proceeds at a ferocious pace, with the world's tallest building going up in the middle of the frenzy. And beyond the slick glass and stainless steel is more evidence that anything is possible with money; Dubai has its dark alleys and ancient secrets well-hidden in the old part of town.

In the Middle East, the slave trade was open and legal well into the middle of the 20th century. King Saud brought a bevy of attentive slaves with him when he met U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt on the deck of an American battleship at the end of the 2nd World War, where they signed the still-secret agreement assuring Saudi Arabia's territorial security in exchange for access to the crude oil under its desert sands.

When Saudi Arabia and its neighbors decided to become respectable nations demonstrating Western concern for human rights, the slave trade simply moved underground. With hundreds of billions of U.S. dollars pouring into the region, every inhumane, indecent practice known to man (or woman), could be practiced and purchased for the right price.

Stunning girls from any continent, including Europe, can be bought for any use by Saudi men, who often are princes, now numbering more than 7000, descendents of the Royal Family. For other tastes, boys and young men are also available. When an aging prince's first wife gets a little mature for her husband's jaded sexual palate, she's within her rights to go to the auction house and bring home a handsome, well-built boy or man - who will almost certainly be a more attentive lover, and far better-endowed, than her philandering aging husband. These youths are the sex slaveboys. Slaveboys in the sex trade usually spend their prime years in the service of such older women.

Slaveboys are well trained; their expertise at cunnilingus is often key to their value and longevity, as is a well-developed ability to become erect on command, or with the slightest physical stimulus. Many are capable of hours of non-stop intercourse when such service is asked of them. But, these are the lucky ones. A darker fate await some of the finest male specimens, those who are the objects of more depraved practices which are seldom mentioned, even in the busy sex-slave houses of old Dubai.

If there is one thing every sex-slaveboy fears, it is that he will be purchased on the open market by the Meat Handling Guild. The cockmeat of overly endowed young slaveboys is a delicacy among the very rich. Representatives of companies that meet this need are dispatched to slave auctions across the country. They pay top dollar and few can outbid them.

Now slaveboys at an auction are lined up, side by side, hands on head, and bidders can inspect and touch them in almost any manner they choose. Now Meat Handlers will go down the line and coldly handle, and weigh, and manipulate each slave's genitalia. And discuss, right there in front of the boy, the market value of the cock as severed meat. A cock that gets hard during this process is worth many times what a non-erect one would be, because the restaurant severs the cocks when they are hard and shooting, right there for the diners to see before the meat is served up.

Hard cocks on auctioned slave boys are almost always masturbated to ejaculation by auction workers or bidders. A powerful ejaculation can drive up the price of a slave. Meat Handlers especially appreciate hard cummers.

When it comes to "hard cummers," they don't cum any harder than Dao, a beautiful smooth teenage slave intently bred to be a satyr. Satyrs are slaves with enormous cocks and balls, bred to be fucking machines.

This was supposed to be a simple auction in which it was understood that Dao and his cohorts would be purchased by elderly society ladies. What is the Meat Handler doing here?

A woman enters the auction room. She carries herself with an imperious manner, as one who expects and is accustomed to instant obedience to every command. Five youths stand before her and the Meat Handler on a long elevated platform, entirely nude, hands clasped behind their heads as required for the buyer's inspection. The height of the platform brings their genitals almost up to her eye level. Dao is the last boy on the left.

"I have a special customer" says the woman. "An emir whose favored wife is having trouble conceiving. The tribal physician has prescribed the remedy." The Meat Handler nods, knowing well the traditional preparation for young Arab wives under considerable social pressure to produce an heir to the family dynasty. He has sold, in his career, at least a hundred youths for this purpose alone, to give up their extra-large cocks for one very special meal. Far more have been taken by wealthy customers, for no more reason than that they could afford it. The sacrifice of a young man's most prized physical possession is always the the ultimate erotic social event, the highlight of their most expensive and depraved dinner parties.

The woman is attractive in a regal sort of way, well dressed and manicured. Her bright eyes quickly survey the array of manhood before her - their muscular definition, their demeanor and facial expressions, their hands, nails, teeth. Most importantly, she inspects their genitals closely.

Dao knows the routine, but he never gets used to it, especially when it's a woman inspecting. Although the presence of the Meat Handler can't be a good omen, Dao feels his body responding to the woman's close attention to his cock and balls. As she inspects him, he feels waves of heat rushing into his penis, knows it's filling and expanding, and there's no way he can stop or even slow the now-inevitable erection. She watches his already-large cock swelling and hanging down, longer and heavier, until its bulbous head appears to be halfway to his knees. She smiles in satisfaction, and the Meat Handler is pleased as well. A spontaneous, untouched erection significantly increases the value, and the price, of the penis on display. It's not a common event, especially when the cock's owner is wondering if it might be one of his last erections.

The woman is entranced by the remarkable transformation taking place in front of her. She never tires of watching a penis go from flaccid and hanging to rigid and upright. Dao's cock reaches its longest hanging-down length, a size she has rarely seen before. Then it begins to rise, making its ascent in small steps, reflecting each beat of his heart pumping blood into the organ. In less than a minute, Dao's cock is extended horizontally, and continues rising until it's well above horizontal. Finally at full erection, it throbs visibly with his heartbeat, and seems to grow harder still, curved upward toward the woman's face, its smooth head glowing purplish-red in color. To Dao, it feels like his cock might explode. He hasn't cum in weeks; sex-slaveboys are closely monitored and masturbation is usually impossible.

"Step down" she commands, and Dao steps off the platform and stands before her, waiting apprehensively. With every movement his erect member bobs up and down, jerks to one side and the other, uncontrollably. Embarrassment mixes with his growing anxiety, but his testosterone-fueled lust overwhelms all other sensations.

He wonders if she will touch him, or request the Meat Handler bring him to ejaculation. He's desparate to cum, but he's at their mercy. Some of the other four boys now show signs of tumescence, but none has an erection like Dao's.

"Send them away" the woman says. The Meat Handler waves to the other four, points to the door leading back to their quarters, and the naked youths leave the room, with obvious expressions of relief and half-erect penises slapping against their thighs.

"Bring some oil" says the woman. The Meat Handler reaches into the canvas tool apron wrapped around his waist, pulls out a small glass bottle containing what appears to be olive oil, and gives it to the woman. She uncorks the bottle, turns it over carefully, and holds it over Dao's straining erection. She lets a thin line of oil drip out, moves the bottle as it pours so a thin line extends the full length of his penis. Drops of clear oil slide down the sides of his shaft as she corks and returns the bottle. Without hesitating, she firmly wraps one hand around Dao's cock, grasps and gently squeezes his testicles with the other. Dao groans involuntarily, his lust and desperation to cum almost uncontrollable. She begins long hard strokes, expertly sliding her hand - which is barely big enough to fully wrap around his thick shaft - the full length of the oiled cylinder of flesh.

As she strokes, she monitors his arousal closely. Her hand holding his testes will feel them pulling upwards just before the onset of ejactulation. Her stroking hand periodically reaches behind his scrotum to feel the rock-hard internal length of penis there, giving it a deep massage before resuming long strokes of his rigid shaft. She senses that his state of arousal will soon bring him to the point of no return.

"Meat Handler, give me your cock-knife" she says abruptly, and continues her hard strokes - gripping the boy's member even more firmly in her strong hands, as if to keep him from bolting. Dao is shocked and alarmed - is she going to take his cock right here, right now? The Meat Handler knows this customer well however - and no deal has been struck - so he knows Dao's penis is safe. What is she doing?

Dao's urge to ejaculate, and the sensation of her strong hands stroking his oiled shaft, are overwhelming. He doesn't know if his cock will still be attached tomorrow, but he has to cum - now! He thrusts into her two-handed grip desperately, even as the Meat Handler reaches to his tool-laden belt and withdraws his special knife, flips it a half-turn in the air, and extends the inlaid-pearl handle to the woman. The inward-curving blade is 15cm of hardened Damascus steel, rippling patterns of light and dark reflecting from its surface, its edge razor-sharp.

"Your moment will come" she says quietly, gazing directly into Dao's frantic eyes. He looks at her calm face, then at the blade she brings slowly toward the base of his rigid member, then back at her face, unable to divine her intent. Her other hand grips and continues slow full-length strokes, oil dripping from her fingers. Steel touches flesh, the skin on the upper surface - Dao gasps at the almost imperceptible cold bite of the edge. Dao thinks he must be dreaming, he will wake up any second from this bizarre self-destructive wet dream, gobs of semen staining his night clothes and sheets. Any second ... the smell of the oil on his flesh, the hard grip of her hand on his shaft, the twinge of cool steel pressing into his penis skin - all too real, he can't wake up, it must be really happening!

"His most erotic moments will be forever linked to the blade", she says, addressing the bemused Meat Handler behind her, who is admiring her skill (and, secretly, lusting to feel her silky touch, on his own rising erection). Then, she speaks to Dao: "You will have many fine ejaculations, young Dao, more extraordinary than you could ever imagine. That is the pleasure we grant you. But you will see, smell, feel the blade each time as well."

Dao barely hears her, in his sexual frenzy, and suddenly groans with the onset of release. She feels the muscular pulse and thrust in her hand, administers one more firm stroke from the tip to the point where her blade presses into his shaft. She squeezes hard and then releases pressure, in well-trained synchronization with his exploding ejaculation. She feels the rush of semen under her grip and aims his cock upwards and slightly away. A gush of white cum blasts past her, higher than her head, splashing onto the dry dirt floor behind her, raising bursts of dust 3 meters away. She squeezes, slides her hand hard down the full length once, releases, and a second jet of semen flies past, close to her face. Dao cries out involuntarily, overwhelmed by the sensations of the most explosive ejaculation he's experienced in his young life. His convulsing body launches a continuing succession of white drops into the air, impelled by the woman's expert technique and strong grip.

With the onset of his ejaculation, the woman had raised the knife imperceptibly, so the violence of his release would cause no unexpected damage. A nearly-invisible red line, like a paper cut, traverses the skin at the base of his raging cock where the knife once pressed. Tiny beads of blood emerge and her hard strokes slide over them, mixing blood and oil into a glowing sheen that covers his erupting shaft.

Even the jaded Meat Handler is impressed by the display, and by her skill. He has no doubt of her ability to sever a hard shooting cock, so expertly and quickly that the owner would feel almost nothing at that instant. He turns away slightly, embarrassed by his own now-obvious erection. Of course, this only makes the tent forming in his clean white pants more obvious, in profile.

"THank you, Hassan," she says. "Your cock knife" and she offers his tool back to him, holding it delicately by the tip of the blade. A thin smear of olive oil reflects a dappled pattern of light from the steel. Her other hand still holds Dao's rigid penis, feeling remnant convulsive throbs running its length.

"Madam," says the Meat Handler, taking the proferred knife, and then wiping the edge gently on his pants, where it leaves a hint of red visible against the white. He returns the knife to its scabbard, secured to his belt.

"You do enjoy watching, don't you, Hassan?" she says, glancing deliberately down at a point somewhere below his tool belt before engaging his eyes with a direct, amused smile. "Be careful how you clean your knife; you might slip and lose something."

The Meat Handler blushes visibly, flustered by her awareness of his condition. He is anxious to change the subject. "This is a fine one, Madam. You must admit it's likely the biggest you've ever had the pleasure of handling."

"Careful Hassan, you're being impertinent," she retorts. "I'm doing my job, and I'm good at it. My pleasure has nothing to do with it." Inwardly, she hopes her face and voice do not betray the strong arousal she feels; watching an extra-sized cock becoming erect, handling it, holding a blade to it, making it shoot, always has that effect on her.

"I meant no impertinence, Madame" the Meat Handler assures her. "To business: let's come to an agreement in my office."

"Of course." she responds. They turn away from Dao, she reluctantly releasing her grip on his still-hard erection. They walk toward the doorway. "Perhaps your words carry no impertinence, but your body speaks volumes, dear Hassan. The pleasure you take in your work is obvious, and there's nothing shameful about that. Everyone should enjoy their work." She likes keeping the Meat Handler emotionally off-balance, fully intending to take advantage of that in the upcoming negotiation.

"But, you're such a puzzle, Hassan," she continues. "Why would a man find pleasure in seeing another of his gender about to lose his cock to the blade? Surely, he would lose his hardness and run for his life if he felt the steel on his own member?"

Dao hears Hassan splutter and cough as they disappear together through the doorway. They're about to bargain for my cock, he thinks. What does the future hold?