David Clarke

The White Rat

Chapters 28-30

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Well, things are better for David than they were a few months ago, but he's still faced with losing two very significant parts of his anatomy before the New Year arrives, and we're already in the second half of November. In this chapter we'll see him trying to come to terms with that, while at the same time trying to persuade Madjid that, for him at least, there could be a life beyond slavery…

For a couple of days after their session in the punishment room Ali treated David rather coldly, but when he realised that David was still treating him with proper deference and that there was no sign that any of the other slaves knew what had happened, he thawed a little. There was still no question that it was a master-slave relationship, and he got David to suck him under his robes in the day-room on a couple of occasions, but he treated David fairly, which was all David really asked.

The twins had never been anything other than fair. Again, he was still clearly their slave, and on a couple of occasions when he was a bit slipshod about cleaning their room they had no hesitation in whipping him (but always in their own room, and never too harshly). And they went on fucking him regularly, though they did it much more gently than they had in the early days, taking care not to hurt him if it could be avoided. The downside of that was that it often made him go hard, and once or twice it had brought him to the brink of orgasm. But he reasoned that as he had no future sex life to worry about there was no reason to worry about this, either: in another six weeks at the most it would be a thing of the past. So maybe it was better to draw as much pleasure out of sex as he could while he was still capable of sexual pleasure.

For that reason he never refused when Djamel suggested sucking him. He didn't want to make his friend do this unless he really wanted to, so he never made the suggestion himself, but neither did he begrudge doing it for Djamel after Djamel had done it for him. And he sometimes thought that the best part of the whole thing was lying next to his friend afterwards, just feeling his closeness. Sometimes it made him think about Michael and they way they had lain close to each other in bed, but he found that thinking of Michael just made him unhappy: he knew he would never see him again, and so he tried to put the red-haired boy out of his thoughts, but he wasn't always able to do this.

He still felt homesick sometimes, usually when he was in his closet at night. Even now that he had real friends among the other slaves he still found himself missing Michael, or Joe, or the rest of the cubs… he wondered if Madjid felt the same, if there were friends he'd been forced to leave behind, and if he lay awake on his pallet at night crying. He swore to himself that if there was any way to connect properly with Madjid, he'd find it.

Often now his work sessions with the other slaves were spent talking to them and finding out about them. He'd work really hard to get the job done as quickly as possible, and then he would sit with the slave he was helping and talk to them, both as a way of improving his Arabic (though by this time he was getting fairly fluent, even if his vocabulary was a little limited at times) and in order to find out what his colleagues were like. Sometimes he took them to the storeroom, so that they could talk uninterrupted, and sometimes – particularly with the gardeners and the two stable-slaves – he would walk in the garden or sit under a tree with them. Some were more talkative than others, but all of them were friendly and treated him as an equal.

If it hadn't been for the spectre of castration hanging over him he thought he would have been willing just to settle down and live as a slave, perhaps dreaming like Mohamed of being raised to the status of servant one day. And he supposed that when it was done he'd still be free to do that, though he was scared that it would somehow change his personality as well as his body. The other slaves never mentioned the subject at all, of course, though they all knew by now that it was going to happen.

The predictable exception was Madjid, who taunted David about his coming emasculation whenever they were together. David couldn't have done anything to stop him even if he had wanted to, but it suited his purpose to let Madjid crow over him: at least that way he was talking to him.

"It's going to be bad working with you afterwards," he said. "I think most of the others won't mention it at all, but I know you will. I can already see you, staring at where my balls used to be and touching me there, and then flaunting your own balls in my face so I can see what I've lost. I bet you never shut up about it."

"I won't," said Madjid, grinning. "I'm going to stare at your scar all the time, so you feel ashamed at not being a boy any more. I'll have to find a good name for you, too, something really girly… I'm going to enjoy this so much."

"Well, if we can get finished here quickly we can spend the rest of the afternoon in the storeroom, and then I'll show you something else you'll enjoy a lot."

Madjid liked that idea, and worked harder than he usually did in order to get as much free time afterwards as possible, and David did his best to keep up with him, because he felt that the more time he could spend with Madjid, the more chance there was of being able to get through to him. And as soon as they were finished Madjid marched him off to the storeroom, closed the door and removed his robe.

"Kiss my balls," he said, and David dropped to his knees and began to do just that.

"They're nice, aren't they?" said Madjid. "If you're really good I'll let you feel and kiss them every day, and then you can suck me so you get to taste what comes out of them. After all, if we've only got one pair between us I think I ought to share them with you. I'd hate you to forget what a normal boy looks like."

"Every day?"

"If I can. Maybe I can persuade the twins to let you stay in our quarters, and then I could make you come to the storeroom with me every evening after we finish eating. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Not really. And I don't think the twins would allow it – they like to fuck me before they go to sleep."

"Wow, do they really? I never knew that… are they big?"

"Really big – bigger than any of the slaves, except maybe Rachid. They're about this big," and he indicated the size of the twins' penises by holding his two index fingers about five and a half inches [14 cm] apart.

"Bloody hell! Does it hurt?"

"Not so much now, because I'm used to it, I suppose, and because the twins take it a bit more gently. The first few times it was really painful, though."

"I wish I could watch – I'd like to see you getting fucked by a couple of massive black cocks."

"I could ask if they'll let you, if you want me to."

Madjid stared at him. "Would you really? I bet you wouldn't."

"I might. Now lie down and let me start to get you feeling nice."

"I can't imagine being fucked," said Madjid, lying down on the mattress. "I can't think of anything more shameful, though. It must make you feel like shit."

"It did at first," said David, lying down beside him and starting to caress his chest gently. "But I suppose you can get used to almost anything if it happens often enough."

"I wish I could fuck you. I'd make sure you never forgot it."

"I'm not allowed to be fucked by anyone except the twins. Of course, if you were able to buy me from them you could do whatever you wanted to me…"

"Fat chance of that. I'm never going to have money now, am I?"

"I don't know… Mohamed told me that sometimes slaves can be promoted to servant, if they work really hard and can do something useful."

"Yeah, right. Maybe he can dream of that, because he is good with horses, but the rest of us just spend our lives scrubbing floors and shit. Anybody can do that, so we're never going to get promoted, are we?"

"You might, one day. Can you read and write?"

"Of course I can!"

"Most of the slaves can't. Some of them can recite the Qur'an, or part of it, from memory, but they can't actually read it – and why would slaves need to be able to read and write? But Ali will need a new personal servant soon, because Rafik is nearly sixteen. It's probably too soon for you now, but maybe in a couple of years' time, if you work hard, you might have a chance. You could ask the imam to teach you a bit more, or you could even ask Ali if you could come to some of his lessons, like Rafik and the other servants do sometimes. As you can read and write already, you wouldn't be wasting the teacher's time."

Madjid looked at him. "You know damned well Ali wouldn't want me as his servant," he said. "He'd be far more likely to take you, if he was going to promote a slave at all, because you can speak other languages."

"Madjid, I won't even be a boy any longer when Rafik moves. Ali isn't going to want a joke as his personal servant, is he?"

Madjid sniggered. "I suppose not," he agreed. "So that means neither of us will get the job. Why aren't you sucking me yet?"

"I will, but we've got plenty of time. First I want to tell you about how I got here. It's something I haven't told any of the others, because to be honest I'm ashamed of it, but since your opinion of me isn't going to get any worse I don't mind telling you.

"I used to live in England. My family was rich, and my father's family was noble – so I suppose you'd say I was one of the ruling class. And I knew it, too, and went around thinking I was better than everyone else. I looked down on people from the lower social classes, and tried not to mix with them more than I had to. I knew I was better than them, you see. I was a complete bastard, looking back on it, and treated people like shit just because of where they lived. And Ali's cousin went to my school and I detested the thought of having coloured kids at the same school as me, and I tried hard to get him thrown out of the school just because he wasn't white.

"So I don't blame Brahim for dumping me here, because I was a horrible person and I deserved to be punished. I mean, I've learned different now: I don't like being a slave, but I couldn't ask for better masters than the twins. They're fair – they beat me when I deserve it, and they fuck me a lot, but then that's my job, so they have the right. But they treat me right and don't hurt me unless I deserve it, and being with them has totally changed the way I think about black people. And some of the other slaves are really good friends now, and I've stopped thinking about colour completely: I reckon most of the slaves here are better people than me, or at least, better than the person I used to be."

He wriggled down between Madjid's legs and started kissing his balls again, and the tip of his penis, and his little black pubes.

"So basically I'm a bad person, even though I'm learning to be a better one now," he went on, between kisses. "So I deserve to have you making fun of me and hurting me and making me suck you, and I'll even deserve it when you make fun of me after I've had my balls cut off. See, Madjid, at first I thought you and me were the same, that we weren't supposed to be slaves… but now I know I was wrong. I should be a slave, to punish me for being such a bastard, but you're different: it's not your fault that you're here, and you haven't done anything to deserve it. So I want you to tell me what happened and how come you ended up here… and while you do that I'll see how nice I can make you feel."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"We had a deal, remember? Look, Madjid, you can trust me: I swear I'll never tell anyone what you tell me, not even Ali. Tell me about yourself, and in return I'll give you some really good feelings, and I'll tell you all the stuff I've done that I'm most ashamed of, too: having someone who hates me knowing all my worst secrets will make me feel bad, and you'll be able to throw it all back at me whenever you want to make me feel worse."

"Why? Why do you keep doing stuff like this?"

"Because I deserve it, and you're the only one left who still wants to punish me for all the bad stuff I did before I got here. We need each other, Madjid: I need someone to get me back for being a bastard, and you need someone to hurt so that you can let out some of the bad feelings you have."

"That's an interesting idea. And I admit whipping you that time made me feel really good. It's just a pity I can't whip you as hard as you really deserve."

"One day that might change. So tell me how you got here, Madjid. All I know is what Samir told me, that you father was unlucky in business, or something like that."

"My father was a fucking moron," Madjid said, bitterly. "He thought he'd get rich if he could build up a horse-breeding business, so he stuck all our money into it, borrowed loads more to get in some breeding-stock, but didn't bother getting the horses properly injected against illness – and then some fucking disease wiped out all the stock. And the money-lenders wanted their money back, but there wasn't any… and I was the younger son. Never mind that I did far more work than my lazy arsehole of a brother – he was the heir, and I was expendable. Fucking shit family…"

Madjid began to cry. David didn't really know what to do, because he was pretty certain that Madjid didn't want his sympathy. But the younger boy's erection had wilted away, so he was no use where he was at the moment. So he moved up and lay down beside Madjid, but not saying anything.

"Why did you have to make me think about all that again?" sobbed Madjid. "You just want to see me cry, I suppose. Satisfied now, are you?"

"No. But it proves what I said: you don't deserve to be here the way I do."

"Too fucking right!"

"But you can work you way out of this. I can't – I'm going to be here for ever. But you work hard – you said so yourself, and I know it's true. And so does Ali – do you think he'd give you charge of his day-room if he didn't know you'd do a good job? If he thought you were no good you'd be shovelling horse-shit like Cherif or cleaning the toilets like Karim. And Samir and Rachid are both fifteen now, and who's going to be senior slave when they move to the main palace? Cherif's the only other one who's older than you, and he's a nice kid, but he's basically stupid. And the next one after you is Karim, and he's not senior slave material, either. And Mohamed won't want to leave the stables, and Farid likes working in the garden, so it has to be you, Madjid. You're bound to be senior slave in a year or so."

"No, I won't. Ali doesn't like me."

"Then change his mind! Work hard, be useful, show him what you can do – and make sure he knows you can read and write, and that you want to improve your education. And make sure he knows you only want to do it so you can serve him better."

"I'm not a suck-up, Cockroach."

"You don't have to be! Look, Ali isn't stupid: he knows you're worth any three of the rest of us. A hard-working slave who can read and write and add up – he'd be insane not to make use of your talents."

"Maybe you're right. But maybe I'm happy just getting on with what I have to do and keeping my head down."

"And if you do that, once you're sixteen you'll be sent next door as just another dumb slave, and then what'll happen to you? Whereas if you work hard and impress Ali, not only do you get to be senior slave – which would let you deal with any junior who didn't respect you – but I seriously think you've got a good chance of becoming a servant. And then, if you put your money away and work hard, one day you'll be able to walk away from here and start a proper life."

"So why do you care so much?"

"Isn't it obvious? If you earn your way out of the household I'll be safe! All the time you're still here I'm likely to get whipped and punished, and I know I said I still think I deserve it now, but in a year or so's time I reckon I'll think I've paid my dues. But I bet if you're still here I'll still get punished every day."

David thought his argument just about hung together. Obviously he didn't really want to be punished – he'd learned his lesson, and no further punishment would teach him anything new. But if he could persuade Madjid to look to the future, he thought maybe the other boy might start to change for the better.

"I suppose that makes sense… but I'll bet the other slaves do their best to make sure I never get made senior. They pretty much all hate me."

"Yes, but you can do something about that. I mean, look at me: they hated me far worse than they hated you – I bet you never had to eat your supper sitting on a shit hole and being pissed on, did you? But now they reckon I'm okay. And I was a total bastard to start with, whereas you were just an ordinary, decent kid who shouldn't be here. It's no wonder you found it hard to handle – a lot of kids I know would have gone mad or killed themselves, but you were strong enough not to do that.

"Thing is, you're here, and you have to accept it, the way I had to. But I'm here for life, but you don't have to be. All you have to do is concentrate on a future away from this place and then do whatever it takes to get you there. If being senior slave is a stage along that road, then you have to make sure you get the job, and if that means getting the other slaves to accept you, then that's what you have to do."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Talk to them. If one of them has got too much work, help them out. If you finish cleaning the day-room early, go and see if any of the others needs a hand. If you really want to impress them, go and help Karim, and make him promise not to tell the others about it. Don't worry, word will get out, and when it does and they ask why, you just have to act all annoyed that they found out about it and say you don't want to talk about it and they should stop going on about it. I can pretty much guarantee it'll work. But really all you have to do is treat them decently, talk to them at meal-times, stuff like that. By the time the senior job comes up they'll be happy for you to take it.

"And if you get made up to servant, anything is possible. Imagine for a moment that Ali puts you in charge of supplies. I know there's a town somewhere a couple of miles away outside the walls – well, imagine if Ali bought a small place in town, just a couple of rooms, and got you to live there so that you could go to all the shops and stores for him and buy the stuff the palace needs… you'd be pretty much independent."

"That really would be good," said Madjid. "Don't think it would happen, but it's a nice dream."

"If you want to make it even nicer, now imagine that Ali appoints a slave to live with you to do all the work."

"Yes! I'd get him to send you – then I could do absolutely anything I wanted to you, over and over again, all day long… "

"Right. Now you've got something to dream about. Next time we do this I want you to tell me exactly what you'd do to me – and I can see you're already thinking about it. Okay, let's see what I can do about it…"

The erection was back, and so over the next half hour or so David concentrated on giving Madjid another brilliant, drawn-out sexual experience, that finally resulted in another very productive orgasm.

"I'll tell you one thing," said Madjid, pulling his robe back on, "if I ever do buy my way out of here, I'm going to buy you, too. I really like the idea of you doing that to me every day for the rest of my life."

And he went out, and David lay back thinking that just maybe he had sown the seed that would enable Madjid to deal with his situation. And he wanted to encourage Madjid some more, and so on the morning of his next session with him he spoke to the twins.

"Are you certain, Kikem?" asked Yeyne. "Why would you want another slave to witness your shame?"

"And that one in particular," added Kuyo. "He is a low creature, Kikem. He is a rat."

"Rats can be saved, Master," he said. "Even that one. I was a rat once, and you helped save me, so now I wish to save him."

"But why like this? We spoke to Ali many weeks ago and asked if our fuckings could be kept private, and he agreed. You do not need anyone to know of it, except for us."

"I know, and I'm grateful. But I am sure I can use it to help him."

"We have told you before, Kikem, you are too generous to the other slaves, who treated you as dirt when you arrived," said Yeyne. "You owe them nothing."

"I know. But they have changed the way they view me, as have you."

"Then, if you truly wish to do this, we will allow it."

"Thank you, Master!" said David, gratefully. And so when he reported to Madjid that afternoon he told him that he had made arrangements for them both after supper.

"When we've eaten and our work is over, you can come back to my room with me," he said. "The twins have agreed to let you watch them fuck me, and afterwards you can stay with me overnight, so that you can make me suck you again. If you want to, that is."

"Fuck yes! But… okay, what's going on? Is this some trick? I know, once I'm safely in the twins' room they're going to beat me up, or maybe fuck me in front of you. I bet that's it, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't! Look, Madjid, you're senior to me – if I did something like that to you, you'd be justified in whipping the shit out of me afterwards. And I told you why last time – I want you to know all the bad stuff about me, so you can give me a hard time about it whenever I have to work with you. I swear nobody will do anything to you if you come."

"Well… okay, then. But you're in real shit if you're lying. Now get those tables out of the way so you can start cleaning the floor."

But as the afternoon went by Madjid's doubts seemed to disappear, and he was wriggling with impatience all the way through supper. Eventually David led him up to the twins' room.

"Cockroach has explained that you are to be permitted to witness what happens to him this evening," Kuyo told him – his Arabic was getting better, but there was still an obvious accent. "He says it is a punishment for him for not showing you sufficient respect, so you can take up a position that allows you to see closely what is happening."

"Great!" said Madjid, enthusiastically. "Thanks for letting me watch… so what happens, exactly?"

"First he has to be beaten," Kuyo told him. "If he has failed us in any way he is whipped before we fuck him, to increase his discomfort."

That was completely untrue – on the very rare occasions that David did merit a whipping from the twins it was always done straight after the offence. But David had persuaded the twins to give Madjid a good show, and they had reluctantly agreed.

"Brilliant!" approved Madjid, his eyes shining.

"It was only a small fault this time, so he is only getting three strokes," Kuyo told him. "But it will be enough to cause him pain."

The real reason was that David didn't want Madjid to see him get hard through being fucked, which was now happening almost every time. He hoped that if his bottom was hurting that wouldn't happen this time.

So the twins positioned him across the table as usual, today without putting the folded blanket on the table first, as they usually did to make it less uncomfortable for him. David gripped the table and Kuyo took the whip from its hook behind the door, took aim and delivered a good cut, not by any means at full strength, but hard enough to hurt, all the same. And David gave a loud gasp that wasn't in any way put on. Yeyne took the whip and gave him another, and he cried out, writhing.

"As he has disrespected you, you may take the third blow," Yeyne said, handing the whip to Madjid, who grabbed it before the black boy could change his mind.

"Oh, brilliant," he said, taking aim.

"Do not make him bleed," cautioned Kuyo. "We do not want his blood on us as we fuck him."

So Madjid reined it in a little, but still delivered a very painful blow, and David arched his back and yelled in pain.

"And now we fuck him," said Yeyne, removing his kilt.

"Fucking hell," exclaimed Madjid, staring at Yeyne's erection, "that's massive! I bet that hurts like hell! How do you get that into him?"

"Watch," said Yeyne. He smeared a little cream around David's hole, lined up and pushed steadily, and gradually the large organ disappeared inside. Madjid watched open-mouthed, and David gasped and uttered little cries of distress, mostly for his benefit: by now he was used to this and had learned how to push out and then relax so as to accommodate the twins without too much pain.

Once it was all the way in Yeyne started to fuck steadily, and David wriggled and gasped and yelped, doing his best to suggest to Madjid that this was really hurting. Of course, having the other boy watching this was still embarrassing, but that was a price he thought worth paying.

"Why have you stopped?" asked Madjid, when Yeyne paused in mid-fuck.

"We do not wish this to be over too soon," Kuyo explained. "We stop many times, so as to prolong our pleasure. He would prefer us to finish quickly, but he is a slave, and so his wishes mean nothing."

"Oh, wow – I have to remember that," said Madjid. "So how does it feel, Cockroach?"

"How do you think it feels? It hurts!"

"Be polite to me, Cockroach, or I'll whip you some more before the other one has his go."

"I'm sorry, Madjid. But it does hurt, and it's hard to concentrate on anything else while it's happening."

Yeyne drew it out the way he usually did – the twins had offered to do it fast tonight, but David had asked them to do it as usual – before eventually thrusting hard a couple more times as he climaxed. Madjid stared: the boy's entire length, which must have been close to six inches [15 cm], was completely inside, and the noises David was making suggested (inaccurately) that it was really hurting him. Eventually Yeyne withdrew, and Madjid stared excitedly at David's hole, which stayed wide open for a few seconds before slowly contracting again.

Kuyo took his brother's place and Madjid was treated to a repeat performance that lasted at least twenty minutes, before finally Kuyo ejaculated into David's hole. He pulled out slowly, and David relaxed a little, but didn't let go of the table or stand up.

"We are going to clean ourselves," Kuyo told Madjid. "He is not permitted to move until we return – but you are not permitted to hurt him while we are away."

The twins went off to the servants' wash-room, as they did every time they fucked David; and he remained lying across the table, breathing deeply and hoping that Madjid did not realise that the few small drops of ejaculate on the floor beneath his groin were his and not Kuyo's – for, despite the whipping, he had been unable to prevent himself from climaxing as Kuyo fucked him.

But Madjid didn't seem to notice it at all – first he watched as David's distended anus slowly closed again, and then he came round to the other end of the table so that he could look at David's face.

"God, Cockroach, that must be agony – and you have to put up with it every night? It's a surprise you can actually walk after that."

"It doesn't happen every night, just two or three times a week. Actually every night might be better, because then I might get used to it, but this way I have time to recover before it happens again."

"It was fun to watch, though. I just wish I could do it to you, too, even though I'm nothing like as big as those two. Maybe in a year or so – just in time for me to be Ali's purchasing agent in town, if your plan works out!"

The twins came back and told David he was free to move, and he stood up, holding his bottom gingerly. Kuyo told him to go and use the toilet if he needed to, and he hobbled out of the room, putting on rather more of a limp than was strictly necessary. Madjid came with him, grinning as David squatted over one of the holes.

"I'd piss on you, except I'm going to have to share your mattress tonight and I don't want you stinking the place out," he said, pissing into one of the other holes instead.

David wiped himself with his hand, as he had learned to do by now, went through to the wash-room to wash his hands and then led Madjid back up to the twins' room.

"Normally once he is in his cupboard we lock the door," said Kuyo, untruthfully. "But since you will be in there tonight we will leave the door unlocked. He is not to come out, but you may if you need to."

So David and Madjid went into David's closet and the door was closed, leaving them in the dark.

"You're not allowed any light, either?" said Madjid. "Wow, those two really do know how to deal with a bad slave, don't they? I'm going to remember all this for when you come and work for me in town. Okay, it'll never really happen, but it's fun thinking about it."

He removed his robe and sandals and lay down on his back.

"Come on, then, get me excited," he ordered. "But slowly – we can make this last all night if I want."

So David lay down next to him and began to caress his upper body.

"So, what's going to happen at your place in town?" he asked.

"Well, you're going to be kept in a cupboard smaller than this, for a start, and I won't waste a mattress on you, either. I won't let you use the toilet – that'll just be for me – so you'll have to piss and shit in your cupboard and then sleep in it every night. I'm going to get a frame and we'll use one room as a punishment room, and when you're not actually working you'll stay strapped to the frame so I can whip you and fuck you whenever I want.

"You'll only be allowed one bowl of rice a day, too – I'm not wasting food on you – and the only water you'll get to drink will be my piss. How do you like it so far?"

"Not much," admitted David, taking hold of Madjid's erection and caressing it slowly.

"Of course, it's all crap," said Madjid, in a different tone of voice. "You'd die if I treated you like that, and then I'd have nobody to work for me. No, if it ever did happen I'd probably treat you pretty much like I do now, or maybe like the twins do: I'd only beat you when you deserved it, but I'd use you for sex a lot. So forget this rubbish for a moment and tell me why you invited me to watch you getting fucked tonight."

"Because I knew you'd enjoy it."

"Obviously I enjoyed it, but that's no reason. Look, Cockroach, you know perfectly well you don't owe me anything, and I don't believe all that stuff about you wanting someone to go on punishing you for all the bad stuff you did before, either. So what's the real reason?"

"Well, that reason isn't completely untrue, and I do think I need someone to know the truth about me, otherwise I'll start believing it when Djamel or someone says I'm really nice. I know better. But… look, Madjid, you don't like being here, and I've got the impression that you don't like any of the other slaves much – so why would it be me in your fantasy place in town? Why not any of the others? Do you really hate me more than them?"

"Oh, so you want the truth now, do you? Well… the reason I like hurting you is because I can. You're the only one I can get at, so you're the one I take stuff out on. Actually, I ought to hate you less than any of the others except Nacer, Hocine and Abdelkader, because they weren't here when I arrived, and neither were you. The rest of them were in my face all the time about being a slave when I used to be free, and I hated it – and if I could whip and fuck them, I would. But I can't, so you have to do. And I don't give a fuck if you think that's unfair or not, because it's going to happen anyway, okay?"

"That's okay. Like I said to you before, we need each other, at least until you can work you way out of here. Until then if you get angry or frustrated or just fed-up with everything, I'll be here for you to hit, or to suck you until you feel better."

"You know what? You're completely insane! You're volunteering to be my punch-bag? Why? Do you like getting hurt, or something?"

"God, no! If I did, this place would be like Paradise! No, Madjid, it's just that you're the only one of us who really has a serious chance to get out. I fucked up my own life by being a bastard to everyone, so if I can keep you on the rails by letting you be a bastard to me, at least I'll have repaid the debt a bit."

"God, you mean it, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Work hard and get yourself out of here, and I'll think I've at least done one thing in my life that was worthwhile. So, here's the deal: start talking to the others, be part of the household, help then out if they need it. That way they won't object to you becoming senior. At the same time, be a good slave and work really hard – I'll help you whenever I can, but you'll have to do most of it yourself. Ask the imam if he'll help you to develop your reading, writing and maths skills, and tell Ali you want to take some lessons to make yourself better able to serve him.

"If you do all of that I'm convinced you'll get a chance as a servant sooner or later, and then you can start putting some money away – so even if you never get to be Ali's representative in town you'll still have a chance of making a fresh start on your own one day. And in return I'll help you relax by giving you the best sex feelings I possibly can, and if it helps you can push me about and call me names – that's why I wanted you to have lots of ammunition, so, it'll mean something when you do. And if I mess up you can whip me, and maybe even if I don't mess up if you need it enough. So, what do you think – do we have a deal?"

"So, what you're saying is, I have to do what's in my own interest by working my way out of this place, and in return you'll be my personal slave to do what I want with?"

"Well, not completely – after all, the twins are my real masters, and that means you can't beat me till I bleed, or fuck me. But I'll serve you as much as I can, anyway."

"Seems like a good deal for me, but I can't see what you get out of it."

"I get to see you lift yourself out of here. I can't do that myself, but seeing any slave making a life for himself will feel good. And, even though your being here isn't your fault, you do remind me of how I was when I first got into trouble back in England: I couldn't handle it, either, and it took me ages to accept things. If I'd had someone to help me then it would have been a lot easier. So maybe I can help you that way."

"Well, I can't see any reason not to accept. But if you think this means I'm going to give you an easy ride, you're completely wrong."

"I know. Thanks, Madjid – I won't let you down. Now, let's start with this…"

'This' was Madjid's penis, which had subsided during their discussion, but which quickly returned to life when David started licking it. And for the next half hour or so he worked away at it, teasing and tantalising but not letting Madjid climax until he was absolutely desperate for it. And afterwards, once Madjid had been for a pee and come back; David wrapped his blanket round them both and Madjid snuggled up to him.

"You realise I could make you sleep off the mattress and without the blanket?" Madjid pointed out. "But I suppose you've earned a good night's sleep."

"Thanks, Madjid – Master, I mean."

"And don't you forget it," said Madjid. "We've got a deal, remember, slave?"

"I know you won't let me forget," said David, and he settled down, content, thinking that if he could help Madjid to become independent – and, on the way, improve his relations with the other slaves – it would be an achievement he could be proud of.

***

Time kept rolling on, and November became December. David tried to keep doing his duties as well as he could and did his best not to let his anxiety show in front of his friends, but he was facing a deeply traumatising event that kept getting closer and closer, and there was nothing he could do about it except to keep working hard and hope against hope that Ali would put his slave's hard work ahead of his obligations to his cousin. And that didn't seem remotely likely.

He'd repeated the bondage game with Ali a couple of times, beating him hard enough to leave marks and making him wear the slave collar on the last occasion, and Ali had clearly loved every second of it, but as soon as they left the punishment room they were back to their standard master-slave relationship.

The other slaves were aware of his position and tried to comfort him as best they could, and on one occasion after Djamel had sucked him the younger boy had burst into tears at the thought of not being able to do this with David much longer and had needed comforting himself. Madjid kept teasing him about it, though even he didn't seem to be getting as much enjoyment out of it as he had a couple of weeks earlier.

In fact, watching Madjid trying to follow his advice was one of the things that kept David going. It had taken a bit of effort to start connecting with the other slaves – after all, he'd kept himself aloof from them for a long time. But David spoke up for him, and gradually the walls between Madjid and the others were coming down.

It was hard to think of this as mid-December – the temperature was still in the mid-twenties much of the time, and only at night did it feel a bit colder. But the weather was as bright and sunny as it had been since David's arrival back in the summer, and Ali had started sitting out in the garden when he had free time, something which would have been far less comfortable when the temperature was above thirty, as it had been at the height of the summer.

One afternoon Nacer came to get David from the twins' room even before he'd had time to take their bowls back to the servery.

"The Master wants to see you in the garden," Nacer reported. "Straight away – I can take those bowls back downstairs for you."

So David went downstairs and along the corridor to the door that led into the garden, the twins at his heels, and they caught up with Ali just outside the door.

"It's a nice afternoon, and I have an hour before my lessons," Ali told him, "so you're going to pleasure me out here. It'll be nice to have it happen outdoors for a change." And he strode straight to the pile of cushions that had been there since his morning rest and plonked himself down on them, hoisting his robe up to his waist, though leaving it covering his genitals at the front, as he usually did when David did this in the sight of other slaves or servants: the twins were coming this way, and no doubt Rafik and Nacer would be along shortly, and the gardeners were probably around somewhere, too. So David dropped to his knees between Ali's ankles and prepared to put his head under the robe to find his target – and as he leaned forward there was a movement at the corner of his eye: there was a snake in amongst the cushions, level with Ali's thigh.

"Master, don't move!" cried David, but it was too late: the snake was already drawing back its head ready to strike.

David didn't even stop to think: he shot out a hand and grabbed the snake just behind the head, the way he did it when playing the stick game with Tahnu and the other young shepherds. He was still fairly sharp because the twins used it to improve their reflexes, too, and often he played it with them.

"Kuyo!" he yelled, struggling to hold on as the snake thrashed around. "Your knife – quick!"

Kuyo dashed forward, drew his knife and sliced the snake's head off, and blood spurted out over Ali's robe. Ali was trembling in fright, but gradually it turned to anger.

"You've failed me!" he shouted at the twins. "You are supposed to protect me, and if it hadn't been for a slave – the least of my slaves – I would be dead. If I had died my father would have had you whipped and then garrotted, back to back with the same wire. No bodyguard may outlive his master. And that I am still alive is no thanks to you – so I think you should suffer the same fate. You will be killed."

"Master, no!" cried David, who was still holding the body of the snake in his right hand. "You can't blame them for this! You gave them no opportunity to check the cushions – you were already sitting down before they got here!"

"Do you defy me?" shouted Ali.

"Master, you are fair – all your slaves know this. I don't want your servants to think that you are unjust."

"My bodyguards failed. To execute them for such a failure would not be unjust. You need not fear that you will die with them, as happens in some households when the master dies. I'll gladly accept you back as a household slave. Their fate does not concern you now."

"But…"

Be quiet, Cockroach. I've already told you that it's not your business. But what you did was really brave, and you should be rewarded. So, what would you ask of me?"

"Don't punish the twins," said David, at once. "If you are to reward me, let it be like that."

"Wouldn't you rather ask for something on your own account? For example, why don't you ask me if you could be allowed to keep your manhood intact?"

David stared at him. "But… but I thought you'd promised Brahim…"

"This is my household, and I can decide to change my mind if I want. I think he'd understand that saving my life changes things a bit. So, which is it to be, Cockroach – do you want to save the twins, or your own balls?"

Oh, God, thought David. How can I make a decision like that? To be able to remain a normal boy, to experience puberty, to grow up normally, to get taller and stronger and be, well, ordinary – how could he not choose that? And yet, if it hadn't been for the twins and the way they had cared for him and protected him when the other slaves hated him, he might well have killed himself by now. But still, they had beaten him and fucked him… but they had the right to do that, of course…

"Decide," said Ali.

David looked at the twins, who were on their knees, trying their hardest to look brave. But he could see that they were trembling, and there was a tear trickling from the corner of Kuyo's right eye, and after all they were only twelve years old… but still, his own body was in the balance, and possibly his own sanity, because God only knew how he would cope, if he could cope at all, with being half a boy…

He took a deep breath. "The twins," he said. "I choose the twins, Master. Please don't punish them."

Ali stared at him. "Are you sure?" he said. "They're just a couple of black farm-boys – I can find plenty of others to replace them easily enough."

"You couldn't replace them," said David. "They are good and kind, and loyal to you, and you know there was nothing they could have done about the snake. Take my balls – that was going to happen anyway, so I'm no worse off than I was this morning, and you won't have to break your word to Brahim – but spare the twins. They love you, Master – don't punish them for something that they could not have prevented."

"Come inside," said Ali, getting to his feet. "All of you. Come to my office. Oh, and Cockroach – put the snake down first."

He took them up to his office, led them inside, closed the door and sat down at his desk.

"Cockroach, you are an amazing boy," he said. "I don't think I would really have executed the twins – I was just angry, but I'd have seen that you were right once I recovered. As you say, I gave them no chance to check the cushions – though I'm not sure that they would have done if I had given them the chance. Still, that isn't the point. I don't suppose you know this, but in the past two weeks I've had every slave in the palace, and the twins, and most of the servants, come to me to ask me to spare you from castration. They like you, Cockroach – you'd be embarrassed to hear some of the things they said about you. Djamel offered to let me castrate him instead, and Samir said… well, it doesn't matter what they said. The message is that they care about you."

"You said every slave, Master," said David. "Even Madjid?"

"That was interesting – he crept up to me very early in the morning, before any of the other slaves were around, and he begged me not to tell anyone that he'd spoken to me – and then he pleaded for you even more eloquently than Samir, and he was eloquent enough."

"Wow!" said David. "I'd better not tell him I found out, though, or he'll be angry. So… does that mean you might let me keep my balls after all?"

"What, you think I'd let slaves tell me how to behave? Well… this time I will, because they're right. You're nothing like the way Brahim described you to me, so I see no reason not to change my mind. You will not be castrated."

"Oh, God, thank you, Master," said David, dropping to his knees in relief. "But… you're not going to hurt the twins, are you?"

"No. But in future they'll know to check my cushions for snakes, I think."

"I'd never have thought to," said David. "I thought snakes hibernated?"

"Only in cold climates. Here some snakes sleep in the summer to avoid the heat. So now you'll know better, too. Now, go – you're free until I send for you again, which will probably be just before the evening meal. You, too, Kuyo and Yeyne – you probably need to recover, too. Rafik and Nacer will guard me this afternoon."

So David and the twins went back to their room, and David turned round to thank the twins for speaking up for him – and found them on their knees.

"Our lives are yours," Kuyo said. "You put our lives above your own manhood. You are truly a man, and we can no longer see you as our slave."

"What? No, Kuyo, that's rubbish! You heard Ali – he said he'd have changed his mind anyway, so your lives were never in danger."

"You did not know that."

"Well… look, that's not the point. Anyway, how could I put your lives lower than something that was going to happen to me anyway? You are my masters, and… and I love you, okay? You've been so good to me – I couldn't just stand there and not try to speak up for you."

"We're not worthy to be your masters."

"You're my friends, Kuyo. I want to be your slave – you're fair and decent to me, and I don't want to be just another palace slave. I want to stay and serve you. Now please stand up, or I'll have to kneel too, and then we'll look silly."

The twins stood up and David drew them into a three-way hug.

"Please say I can still be your slave," he begged. "I just want us to go on as we were. I don't want to leave you."

"We do not deserve you," said Yeyne. "But we would be happy if you want to stay with us."

"Of course I do! You are my masters. And where could you find another slave who will not scream and split in two when you stab him with your huge black spears?"

They grinned at him. "Kikem, if you do not wish to be stabbed again, we will not force it upon you," said Kuyo.

"It is my duty to give you pleasure – and if you do not fuck me, I would have to suck you instead."

"You could rub us by hand if you prefer."

"I'll do all three," promised David. "I like to see you have good feelings – and when you fuck me, it sometimes gives me good feelings, too. I would like that to keep happening. As I said, I do not want things to change between us. If I mess up, you must still beat me, and when you want pleasure, you must tell me. That is how things should be between us."

And when David thought about it he knew that was true: he had started to enjoy sex with the twins, although of course until half an hour ago he had expected to be unable to enjoy sex ever again after his operation, and so had determined to accept any sexual experience he could get in the meantime, even though there was still occasionally a little voice nagging away in his head that said that sex with other boys was perverted. But even though he was now going to keep his balls, it didn't seem likely that he would be in a position to think about girls for several years yet: even if he did manage to become a servant, it would be a long time before he was able to live independently. And if being fucked by the twins made him have orgasms, why shouldn't he keep doing it? Nobody else was going to find out about it, after all.

It was weird: when he had first arrived he had thought being fucked by a black boy would be about the worst thing that could possibly happen to him, but in the last few weeks it had been one of the best things instead. By now he trusted the twins completely, and really liked them, too, and somehow that made what should have been a shameful experience into a pleasant one, one that he didn't want to stop. And as for sucking them, well, he'd been sucking the other slaves for a long time now and had become inured to it, and he was good at it, too – everyone said so. So why shouldn't he use it to make his friends feel good? The taste of spunk didn't bother him the way it once had – now he could even suck Samir and Rachid without it making him want to throw up, and sucking the younger boys like Djamel and Abdelkader, who had no spunk yet, was no hardship at all – in fact he quite enjoyed making them feel good.

He'd managed to shut that little voice in his head up by telling it that being a pervert was part of his job: he had no choice in the matter, so he might as well do the job as efficiently as possible. And because he had to do it, it was good that it no longer bothered him or made him feel physically sick, wasn't it? And now he saw no reason why he shouldn't volunteer to do it for the twins, who were his friends – he'd volunteered with them before, after all. And the little voice didn't seem to have any answer to that.

"We've got all afternoon off," he said to the twins. "So, would you like to put your spears to good use?"

"That would be good. But today we will do it differently: today you will share our pleasure," said Kuyo, pushing the two mattresses together. "Lie down, Kikem."

So David lay on his back and the twins removed their kilts and lay down on either side of him, and then, working together, they wanked him, slowly and stopping often. He was not entirely surprised to discover they both knew how to do this, as he was fairly sure that they had done it for each other in the past. He was happy to lie back and enjoy it. And eventually they brought him to a really good climax, and his sperm, still almost colourless, spurted out in three or four pulses and landed on his stomach and groin.

"Kikem is a man indeed," said Yeyne. "Your seed has begun to grow. Of course, we have far more than you, but we are warriors, and not a humble cockroach." And he grinned to show that he was joking, and so David rolled over and began to suck him.

"I bet I do not even taste a single drop," he said, but he was wrong about that: he got two or three good spurts in his mouth, and this time he swallowed them fearlessly – he'd swallowed accidentally in the past and it had done him no harm.

"See, there is nothing," he said, displaying his empty mouth and then grinning.

"You have swallowed my seed. Perhaps it will make you a mighty warrior, and not a small, feeble slave-boy," said Yeyne, grinning back.

So David repeated his efforts for Kuyo, swallowing once more, and then, after they had all rested for a while, the twins both fucked him, drawing it out for over an hour and making David come twice more in the process, though the second time nothing came out of his penis.

"That is how we should spend our rest days in future," said Yeyne, withdrawing from David's hole. "Do you not agree, Kikem?"

"I do. That was fun," he said. "Of course, your spears are too small to touch the sides of my hole, but maybe you will grow one day."

"I like it better that you can laugh with us," said Yeyne. "Perhaps it is possible for us to be friends as well as masters and slave."

"But if you are too cheeky we will whip you," said Kuyo. "Admit that we have large spears, or we will think you are mocking us."

"Master, your spears are magnificent, the largest in the palace. Perhaps one day you will learn to use them as you should."

So they grabbed him and tickled him, which was a lot more fun than being whipped, and they were still at it when Nacer arrived to summon David back to Ali's office.

"Sit," ordered Ali, indicating the second chair in the room. "You gave me a problem, Cockroach: what you did for me today was incredibly brave – if the viper had bitten you, you would be dead. So I have been to talk to my father, and to the imam, to ask what I should do with you, and they gave me the same answer that Rafik had already given me when I asked him – and in fact it turned out to be the same answer I had already considered before I spoke to any of them. Cockroach, today you saved my life, and you put the lives of your masters ahead of your own happiness, and that's something that is not easily repaid. So I have decided that you should no longer be a slave."

David stared at him. "You mean… you mean, I can be a servant – have a proper, paid position in your household? Oh, wow, Master – thank you! I swear I'll never let you down…"

"No, you idiot! I mean, you're free. You can go home. My father is making the arrangements now, and it should be possible for you to leave on Saturday. I'll never be able to replace you, but I can't possibly keep you here after what you did for me. You're going home, Cockroach."

So there's a bolt from the blue – David had completely abandoned any hope of rescue or escape, and now he gets it dropped into his lap. Not that he doesn't deserve it, of course – he's come a long way since he stitched up Ian Osterley for a crime he didn't commit. Mind you, it might not be easy for him to just walk away from the palace: he fits in far better here than he ever did at KEV, and he's got a lot of friends here, too. And in the next chapter we'll see how he handles this enormous change in his fortunes…

Chapter Twenty-Nine

So David has got his reprieve and he's going home. That idea might take a minute or two to get used to… and there'll be a few loose ends that need tidying up before he leaves. If, indeed, he decides to go…

"Home?" said David, looking stunned. "You mean… I can go back to England?"

"That's right. If you want to, of course. I mean, if you really want to stay here we can probably arrange it."

David actually thought about that for a moment: now that he was in no danger of losing his balls he thought he could actually be quite happy here. He probably had more friends here now than he had ever had in Cheltenham – he didn't think too many people back there would have queued up to speak up on his behalf the way the rest of the household here had done. And if Ali was prepared to offer him a job as a servant…

But then he realised that this was a short-sighted view. After all, he would probably still have to move to the main palace next summer when he turned sixteen, and then he'd have to win people over all over again. And even if Ali arranged for him to stay here, it still wasn't much of a future: he hadn't left the palace since he arrived, and although the servants were allowed to visit the local town on their days off he somehow didn't think it would prove all that attractive to him. Where would he be in ten years' time if he stayed? At best, a clerk in Ali's household. So it was only the thought of losing his friends here that really made him hesitate.

"Master," he said, "if I decide to go… would I still be allowed to come back to visit you sometimes?"

"'If I decide to go'? Are you really hesitating, Cockroach?"

"Well… a little. I have a lot of friends here, and now that I know my balls are safe I think I could be happy here, even as a slave. But… no, Master, I think I really have to go back to England – I have a family there, after all, and friends, too. But I'd like to be allowed to come back and see my friends here again sometimes… and you, of course, because if I am not to be a slave in future, I'd like to think of you as my friend, too. You've given me back my life, and I'll always be grateful for that."

"And you saved mine, so we are equal. But…I think you are already my friend, Cockroach, even if you couldn't say so as a slave. Only a friend would have pleasured me the way you have, and only a friend would not have spoken of what we do downstairs. I'm going to miss that, you know. Perhaps we can do it again before you leave."

"Of course I'll do that if you want. But maybe you don't have to stop when I've gone. I'm sure you can find another slave to take over from me."

"Really? Who could I trust as much as I trust you?"

"Well, the twins might do it, though they're not slaves, of course, and it would be better if you can get a slave, because that would be more shaming for you. So, which of your slaves do you trust most?"

"I've never had a reason to distrust any of them, though this is something more than a normal service. With you I felt safe because you were always separate from the others – though to hear them speaking about you lately I suppose I might have been wrong to think that. Who would you suggest, Cockroach? You probably know them all better than I do."

"Well… if you want to be beaten hard, I'd suggest Madjid, but really I think you'd be better keeping him well away, because I think it would interfere with the progress he's making. Master, he wants to succeed here, and he's working hard, so if you could find him a place near you – maybe as assistant to Rafik, or whoever replaces him – he won't let you down. He can read and write and count, and if you let him study with you he could become really useful to you. In a year or two he could even be ready to become a servant."

"I thought he hated you – so why are you speaking up for him now?"

"He doesn't hate me really – I mean, you know that, because he came and tried to talk you out of castrating me. It's more of an act. I just think he'd be capable of helping you a lot, if you gave him the chance."

"He said he wanted you to keep your balls so that he could take them from you himself… well, that's what he tried to say, but I knew he didn't mean it. He wanted to help you, he just didn't want to admit it openly. Anyway, I'll think about bringing him on a bit if you think it'd be worth my while. What of the others?"

"Well, Samir is a good senior slave: he looks after the others and lead by example, and that goes for when the slaves disliked me as well as more recently. Maybe your father can find a good job for him when he moves. Most of the others seem happy enough as they are. The only other one I think has a special talent is Mohamed: he truly loves working with the horses, and he dreams of being able to ride with you one day. He's probably too young to replace Abdelaziz, but maybe in a couple of years he'd make a good stable servant. But if you want to see for yourself how good he is with the animals, let him ride with you once Abdelaziz moves on – there's no rule that says it has to be a servant who rides out with you, not a slave, is there?"

"No, it's just how we've always done it."

"Then change it, Master – let Mohamed ride with you. He'll be so happy he'll be ready to die for you after that. Which of course means you could use him for your games in the punishment room, because he'd never say or do anything to risk being moved out of the stables. But if you really want to know who I'd recommend for that job, I'd say Nacer."

"Nacer! Why him?"

"Because he's devoted to you: you can see the pride at serving you in his face every time he passes on one of your orders. He would never, ever betray you. And, once he knows it's what you really want, he'll enjoy it, because he's got a sense of humour and enjoys playing games. I could say the same things about Abdelkader, and if you really want to get adventurous later you could get them both to work you over. But Nacer has one big advantage if you only want one to start with: he's got a big cock. It's bigger than yours, and that gives him another really good way to taunt you, especially since he's a year and a half younger than you. If you want to be teased for having a small one – I mean, yours isn't small really, it's about average for your age… but still, having the teasing done by a much younger boy who is bigger will make it even worse. Believe me, I speak from experience."

"Well… okay, then, we'll try him. I'm sure you're right about being able to trust him, anyway. You can take me down there before you go and we'll bring him along so that he can learn what to do. So, is there anything else you can tell me about my household?"

"Not really. They're a good bunch, Master, and they all think you're a fair master, and that's why they're happy to serve you. But you still haven't answered my question: will you let me come back and see you all in the future?"

"If you really want to come back to this place again, bearing in mind what happened to you here… I mean, I'm not very proud of this," he said, walking over to where David was sitting and touching his circumcision scar, "or this," which was his brand mark. "We can pay for a skin graft to cover it once you get back home."

"No, thanks. I want to keep it to remind me of my time here, the good bits and the bad bits. Not that I think I'll ever really be able to forget… anyway, you did what seemed the right thing to do at the time: you thought I was a nasty little racist bastard, and it's true that I was like that once, before you, the twins and the slaves taught me better. So I'm not sorry you did it to me, really, and if you need my forgiveness, you've got it."

"Thank you. In that case, you would be welcome to come back whenever you want. You will probably have to make your own way, at least to Algiers, though – I can't keep asking my father to use one of his planes. And it's probably quite expensive."

"That shouldn't be a problem: my family has got money. I just don't want to leave here and think I'll never see any of you again, that's all."

"We would be glad to see you any time you want to come. And, if this isn't asking too much… maybe we could stay in touch? By writing, I mean. We can write in French, in case your written Arabic isn't good enough yet. I might want your advice sometimes – I mean, Rafik is a big help to me, and it'll be a while before whoever replaces him is able to give me the sort of advice he does. And you know this place really well now, so if you could help me out for a while after Rafik goes, it'd be really good…"

"I'll do my best," David promised. And then he went to give the news to the twins, whose reaction was mixed.

"We are happy for you," said Kuyo. "You will see your family again – and families are important. But we will miss our slave."

"And our friend," added Yeyne. "We will never find a slave like you, Kikem. No other slave could give us pleasure the way you do and yet remain our friend."

"You won't need me. Surely now you are men you can go home to your village and find wives?"

"We will have many beautiful wives and many strong sons," Kuyo promised him. "We are sure to have no trouble in finding wives: twins are a sign of good luck, and we are strong and work for a fine master – and we speak another tongue, even. Girls will be unable to resist us."

"But they will scream and run away in fear when they see your huge spears," said David, grinning. "Only your Cockroach can face such spears without terror."

"We will truly miss you," agreed Kuyo. "But I think the girls may not be as fearful as you think – and to marry a twin is to be assured good luck. But… we are still too young to marry, so our spears will see little action once you are gone."

"I'll come back sometimes," David promised them. "Ali says that I can come back whenever I want, so when I do I will be able to give your spears some practice, so that the many beautiful wives will not be disappointed when their turn comes."

"You will truly come to see us again?"

"Of course. I will want to be there when you choose your first beautiful wives, and before that I have promised to return for Tahnu's manhood ceremony. You are my friends, and I will want to see you again."

"You are indeed our friend, Kikem. Will you share our blood so that we may stay friends?"

David didn't get it straight away until Kuyo pulled his knife from his belt and cut his own hand with it. He handed the knife to Yeyne, who did the same and then passed the knife to David. He'd certainly never imagined becoming blood-brothers with a pair of black Africans, but… well, why not? These two really were his friends, and twins were good luck, apparently. So he cut his palm and clasped hands with each twin in turn, allowing the blood to run together.

"Now you are of our village," Kuyo said. "We will be friends for ever. And, as you are of our village: my hidden name is Bassala."

"And I am Dramane," Yeyne told him.

"And I am David," said David, "though that is not a hidden name, really – it's the name everyone calls me at home. But it is my real one. I don't think I'll find it easy to think of you as anything except One and Two, though."

"And you will always be our Cockroach," said Yeyne, grinning at him.

"Then let's stay as we are. And now I must go and tell the others what has happened."

Most of the slaves were simply happy for him, though the ones he knew best were also obviously sorry to see him go.

"I've enjoyed being with you so much," Djamel told him. "Now I'll never be able to repay you for saving me. And I'll miss being able to suck on you, too – and having you sucking on me, of course."

"You could try asking Abdelkader if he wants to do that with you. He loves being sucked. I don't know if he's ever done any sucking himself, but you might be able to talk him into it. But I hope I'll be able to come back and visit sometimes, so even if you can't find anyone to do it for you, I promise I will when I come to visit."

David was fairly sure that Madjid's reaction would be different, and he was right.

"So you're running out on me," said Madjid. "I should have guessed: you get me all fired up and then just leave me to it."

"Look, I had no idea what was going to happen when I started talking to you. And even when Ali told me I could go home I had to stop and think about it, and you were one of the main reasons I didn't say 'yes' straight away."

"Really?" said Madjid, sceptically.

"Yes, really. And I'm not going to abandon you, either: Ali says I can come back to visit, and when I do I expect to see that you're still working hard, okay? Because when you've been a servant for a while, have saved some money and are ready to move out on your own I'll help you: I'll match whatever money you have to help you make a start somewhere. And we're going to write to each other, too: I'll make sure Ali gets some money you can use to buy postage stamps, and then you can tell me how you're doing, and any time you're feeling pissed off with life you can write and tell me, and I'll try to find ways to help you cope with it. And you will cope with it, because you're strong, Madjid. That's why I respect you."

"Don't lie. As soon as you're out of here you'll just forget me."

"No, I won't. Madjid, right now I'm still a slave, and I'm junior to you, and so I'm swearing to you as my master that I won't forget you, or stop trying to help you if I can. As far as I'm concerned, you're my friend and I owe you."

"What do you owe me? I haven't done anything for you."

"That's not what Ali says. He tells me you asked him not to cut my balls off."

"Oh. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone… anyway, I only said that because I thought it would be easier to hurt you if you still had balls I could crush. And I was hoping that next time you mess up Ali would change his mind and let me do it to you, instead of having done in a hospital."

"Right. But you still talked him out of doing it, so I still owe you, and I always pay my debts. And that means you're not getting rid of me: I'm still going to be leaning on you to make you work hard, even if I have to do most of it by post. And if it pisses you off, I'll make sure that every time I come to visit you can take me to the punishment room for an hour for so to show me how pissed off you are with me. Does that sound like a fair deal?"

"You mean, you'll still let me beat you even when you're free and I'm still a slave?"

"Like I said, I owe you. And while I owe you, you're still my master, whatever Ali says. Okay?"

"Well… okay, if you really mean that."

"I do. And to prove it… strictly I probably don't actually belong to the twins any longer, since Ali said I was free a couple of hours ago. Now, I'm not going to change anything in the couple of days before I go home – I'm going to stay in the room I've been in all along, and I'll eat with you lot, not with Ali, and I'll keep working with you all until Saturday, too. But if I don't belong to the twins, then it means that other slaves have to right to do what they want to me if I need punishing. So, if you think I deserve a really hard whipping, one that makes me bleed, I can't argue any longer. And if you wanted to do anything else to me…"

"Yes!" said Madjid, his face lighting up. "Right, Cockroach, I'm going to fuck you – really, really hard! I'm going to put loads of sperm in you and make you keep it there – that way you'll always know what I did to you. I'll be the only boy who ever fucked you, except for the twins, and I'll be the last one to ever do it to you, too. That way you'll never be able to forget me."

"I don't want to forget you," David assured him. "So, what time do you finish work today?"

"As soon as I can get the school-room clean at the end of lessons."

"Then I'll come and help you. That way you'll get as much time as possible to make sure I can't forget you."

So at the end of the afternoon David helped Madjid to clean the school-room as quickly as possible, and that left them with a good hour before the evening meal.

"Okay," said David, a little nervously: he wasn't sure which way Madjid was going to jump. He was fairly certain it would be sex before pain, but he couldn't be absolutely certain. "Punishment room?"

"Nah," said Madjid. "I reckon Ali would get angry if I made you bleed after he set you free. I'll save the whippings until you come to visit, because in the meantime you'll forget how bad it can be and your bum will get soft and flabby, and then it'll hurt ten times more than it would if I did it now. No, I'll just going to fuck you, really slowly, for ages. Let's go to the store-room."

David had thought to bring some cream with him – he'd borrowed the jar the twins used – so he was fairly sure this wouldn't hurt. After all, Madjid had no more than four inches [10 cm], and after the twins that should be no problem.

Once in the store-room David closed the door and dropped to his knees in front of Madjid, who pulled off his robe and stood there, legs slightly apart and penis rigid. David started to kiss the other boy's balls.

"I'm really glad I'm getting to keep mine," he said. "I mean, yours are bigger and nicer than mine, but at least I've still got a chance to grow a bit now. And now one day I'll be able to grow some proper hairs, like yours." And he kissed those, too.

"If you were staying here I wouldn't ever let you grow hair," Madjid told him. "Every time one appeared on you I'd pull it out by the roots. But… if I let it grow, do you think it would come out the same colour as the hair on your head? That would look really strange."

"I don't know – I mean, I've never had hair there. But it would probably be blond, I suppose, though if I start wearing clothes again it won't get bleached quite as white as the hair on my head. If I grow some before my next visit I'll show you."

"Are you really going to come back, or are you just saying it?" asked Madjid, and for once he didn't sound forceful and dominant, but almost lost.

"I promise," said David, in the same tone, looking up into his face. A long moment passed while they looked at each other, and then Madjid seemed to shake himself out of his trance.

"Go on, then," he said. "You can suck me a bit first to get me in the mood."

"If I suck you until you spurt," David told him, "and then you take a few minutes to recover, you'll be able to fuck me for a very long time without getting too excited, and I'll have to kneel here with your cock inside me for absolutely ages."

"I like the idea of that. Suck my spunk out, then."

So David sucked slowly and steadily for a couple of minutes, fondling Madjid's bum and balls as he did it, not making any serious attempt to draw it out, and before too long Madjid tensed up and shot into his mouth. David slipped it out of his mouth and spat into his hand, but before he could wipe it on his body Madjid grabbed his wrist.

"Eat it," he ordered. "I want to see you swallow my spunk."

"Oh, come on, Madjid, please don't make me do that."

"Do it, or maybe I'll whip you after all."

So David licked the contents of his hand back into his mouth and swallowed it down. He didn't really mind the taste by now, and he knew that doing this would make Madjid feel good, so he pretended to cough and choke a bit while Madjid grinned at him.

"I've got too much for you to handle, haven't I?" he said. "Poor little Cockroach, you must hate being shown up by a proper mature boy. Okay, so now what do we do?"

"Now we wait for a few minutes until you're ready for sex again. Lie down beside me and I'll sort of stroke you for a bit."

So they lay down together and David put his arm around the other boy, and after a few seconds Madjid did the same thing.

"I hope none of the others comes in, or they'll think I like you or something," said Madjid.

"I think they know you better than that. They'd probably think I was desperately trying to persuade you not to hurt me by trying to act like your girlfriend."

"If you'd lost your balls, you could actually be my girlfriend. Perhaps I can still persuade Ali to make you have the complete operation – not only do you have to have your cock and balls cut off, but they give you a cunt, too. Then I could fuck you front and back. It'd be funny thinking of you having to be a real girl and knowing that you were really a boy trapped in a girl's body."

"You're cruel, Madjid."

"I know. It's fun, isn't it?"

They lay quietly in each other's arms for a few minutes.

"Fuck, Cockroach, do you really have to go?" asked Madjid.

"I think so. But I swear I'll stay in touch with you, and I'll visit whenever I can. And I meant what I said about helping you if you ever start up on your own. Maybe if I promise to do that you won't whip me and fuck me hard every time I visit."

"And maybe I will anyway, just to pay you back for running out on me. But right now I'm going to fuck you properly, so you have something to remember me by. So… how do we do this, exactly?"

"We can do it different ways, but I'll show you the one the twins use. Just kneel behind me and I'll try to guide you into position." And he knelt down on the mattress, rubbed a little cream round his hole and bent forward with his arse in the air.

Madjid got into position behind him. It took a bit of wriggling about, but finally he got lined up. He seemed nervous, so David decided to help him a bit.

"Now push," he said. "But… please, Madjid, don't hurt me too much, okay?"

"I'll hurt you as much as I want," said Madjid, recovering his bravado a little and pushing. And David pushed out to meet him and the head of the penis slipped inside, and both boys gasped, though David's was mainly for effect. Madjid pushed some more, and David gave a little cry, and Madjid grinned and pushed harder until his whole length was inside. And then David squeezed, and it was Madjid's turn to gasp.

"Oh, God, that feels tight," he said.

"It does to me, too. Obviously I have recovered since the last time the twins did it to me, because you feel really big."

"I am really big," said Madjid, loftily. "Now what do I do?"

"You pull back about halfway – make sure it doesn't come right out – and then push it back in. And please be careful – it'll hurt me if you're too rough."

David had thought this would lead to a really hard thrust, but instead Madjid took it slow, and it didn't hurt at all.

"Thanks, Madjid, I think I can stand it if you do it like that. Now you just keep doing the same thing, and it should make you excited."

Madjid started to rock carefully and slowly back and forwards, and it didn't hurt David at all – in fact it felt quite nice. "Is it okay?" he said, squeezing in time with Madjid's thrusts.

"Yes, it feels great. I mean, I think it'll take a long time yet, but, just in case, how do I stop it happening too quickly? I want to make it last as long as possible."

"Just stop moving if you think you're getting too close and wait for half a minute or so. But… please don't make me take this for too long. You're bigger than I thought you were, and it's a bit uncomfortable."

"Tough," said Madjid, and started moving steadily once more.

David realised that this was making him feel good. He was already hard, and he thought that if Madjid kept fucking him for long enough it would make him spurt, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted that to happen – after all, now it was no longer a question of enjoying every possible sexual experience before he lost his balls. Now he had to think like a normal boy once more, and being made to come through being fucked by other boys didn't seem at all normal to him. On the other hand, it felt good…

And then Madjid slid his hand around David's waist, found his erect penis and laughed.

"You think I'm sexy!" he accused. "I've made you stick out! Fuck, Cockroach, you're halfway to being a girl already if you get hard when I fuck you."

"It's because it's you," said David. "You make me feel sort of girly and useless, and you have got a nice cock… I can't help it if my body likes you forcing me to act like a girl. I hate it in my head, but your body feels good against mine, and you know I think you've got a really nice body… I can't stop it sticking up, Madjid. Please don't tell anyone."

"Well, I wasn't going to tell anyone I'd fucked you, because I don't want anyone else to do it. You're my property now, and I'm not going to share you. But you can bet I'm never going to let you forget this."

It was odd, but David was actually enjoying letting Madjid treat him like this. He couldn't understand it, unless it was because he really did feel guilty at leaving Madjid: in that case maybe he subconsciously wanted Madjid to punish him. But maybe it was just that he really liked Madjid and just wanted to do everything he could to increase Madjid's pleasure. But being teased and dominated like this felt good, whatever the reason.

Madjid started to masturbate him slowly. "I'm going to make this worse for you," he said. "I'm going to make your spunk come out while I'm fucking you. That'll make you feel like a complete pervert, won't it?"

"No, please don't," begged David, wanting it to happen, because it would be less shameful if Madjid wanked him and he spurted than if he spurted simply through being fucked.

"Oh, God, this is brilliant!" said Madjid, thrusting a little harder. "You're going to lose all your spunk, and I'm going to shoot loads of mine into you instead."

Madjid was just holding David's erection without rubbing it now, and that felt incredible, and David knew he was going to have an orgasm.

"Please let go of me," he begged. "It's going to happen to me in a moment…"

"I'm not even rubbing it," said Madjid. "You really must think I'm sexy, Cockroach. Come on, admit it."

"Well… fuck, Madjid, you know it's true. You're a nice-looking, normal boy with a big cock and balls, and hair, like any proper boy should have by the time he's thirteen, while I'm fifteen and a half, I've got no hair and my cock and balls are smaller than yours. Obviously you're far better than me. I deserve to have you treat me like a girl. And… oh, fuck, Madjid, I'm going to spurt… please stop! I don't want… aaaarghhh!!!"

And David ejaculated onto the mattress, and Madjid laughed, squeezed his penis to make a bit more spurt out, and thrust against him while it was happening.

"I made the Cockroach spurt," he crowed. "God, you'll never get over the shame of that, will you?"

David shook his head. He felt strange: his watery semen was dripping from the tip of his penis, which Madjid had now released, and he now wanted Madjid to stop fucking him, but of course Madjid was still nowhere near his own climax and just went on and on thrusting against him.

"Keep squeezing, Cockroach," he ordered. "It felt good when you did that."

So David had to try to help him along, even though now he felt sort of sick. But he recognised that he'd got himself into this position and now he had to live with it, so he did his best to squeeze and to help increase Madjid's pleasure. And after a couple of minutes the sick feeling disappeared and after another minute he started to feel nice again, and then he got another erection – and when Madjid felt it he started laughing again.

"God, even after I force you to spurt you still can't control yourself," he said. "I wonder if I could make your spunk come out again? I think I'm going to try." And he started to fondle David's genitals, and there was no denying that it felt good.

Madjid went on fucking him, stopping to rest every now and again, and at the same time he kept playing with David's erection, until David felt sure he was going to disgrace himself once more. But before that happened Madjid started to get close himself, and then he just held David's penis tightly and concentrated on reaching his own climax, which he did with some strong thrusts and a fair bit of groaning and gasping. And David was right on the brink of another orgasm, and he was so desperate that he pushed Madjid's hand aside and grabbed himself, starting to rub, but Madjid wouldn't allow it.

"Oh, no," he said, dragging David's hand away. "You're going to have to put up with me doing that to you, while my cock is still inside you." And he gripped David's penis firmly and rubbed it, and in less than fifteen seconds David cried out and ejaculated again, though this time there was only one small colourless spurt and a dribble.

"Poor little Cockroach," jeered Madjid, leaning sideways to watch. "Is that all you can do? You're such a baby."

He squeezed David gently a couple of times to milk the last drops out of him and then let go, put his hands on David's hips and pushed, drawing his own spent penis back out.

"There's a rag next to the cream," David told him. "You can wipe yourself off with it."

"Okay, but then I'm going to wash it properly. And it's the same as when the twins fuck you: you're not allowed to move until I come back, okay?"

So Madjid wiped himself and then went to the slaves' washroom to clean up, and David stayed obediently exactly where he was until Madjid came back, fully dressed, nearly ten minutes later.

"Now you'll never be able to forget me," Madjid said, sitting on the mattress next to him. "You've got one load of my spunk in your stomach and another load up your bum, and you'll never manage to get rid of all of it. For the rest of your life you'll know that there's a bit of me inside you somewhere. And every time you come back I'll force some more into you, too – if you ever do come back."

"I will," said David, wiping his bottom on the cloth and then sitting down beside him without waiting for permission. "I've promised, Madjid, and I never break my promises, okay?"

"Even after I did that to you?"

"That makes no difference – like I said, you're senior to me and you have the right. And… well, I didn't want you to, exactly, but if any of the slaves was going to do that to me I think I'd have chosen you."

"Why?"

"Because you're good-looking, and you've got a brilliant cock, and I knew it would make me feel good, even though it made me ashamed at the same time. And because I knew you'd enjoy it, too – and I owed you that for going home and leaving you."

"And you really will write to me, and come back to visit?" said Madjid, and once again he now sounded like a scared kid instead of a brash, self-confident teenager.

"I swear," said David, equally gently. "You're my friend. And you own me now – like you said, after what you just did I can never get rid of you."

Madjid managed to smile again. "Good," he said. "And don't you ever try to forget it, either."

And he got up and went out, closing the door behind him, and David, who really was feeling a bit guilty about abandoning him, thought that at least he'd given him a send-off to remember.

***

The following day he went with Ali and a mystified-looking Nacer down to the punishment room. Kuyo went with them as far as the door, taking up a position outside to prevent anyone else coming in.

"Have I done something wrong?" asked Nacer, looking at the A-frame nervously.

"Not at all," said Ali. "You're here because out of all my slaves you're the one I trust most."

"Really? Gosh!"

"I mean it. Look, Nacer, I've been playing a game with Cockroach for a couple of weeks now, and as he's going to leave us in a couple of days I need to find someone else to play with – and he suggested you, and I agreed that you were someone I could really trust. You'll understand why in a minute, but first you have to swear that everything that happens in this room is just between the three of us, so you must absolutely not talk about it outside this room. So, will you swear?"

"Of course," said Nacer, still looking confused.

"Good. Okay, Cockroach, explain it to him."

"See, what it is… a little while back when me and Abdelkader got caught… well, misbehaving in Ali's bedroom, he had us whipped, and then said I had to suck Abdelkader's cock while he was still tied to the frame. And Abdelkader really liked it – he said it felt exciting, not being able to move or to do anything to stop me. So Ali decided he wanted to find out what it was like, and so I strapped him to the frame and sucked him, though I teased him a bit first. And he liked the teasing almost as much as the sucking – he said it felt exciting, being completely helpless and having a junior slave able to do whatever he wanted to him. And each time we've done it since I've teased him a bit worse, and I whip him, too – and he really enjoys it. I don't really understand it myself, but if he enjoys it, I don't mind doing it for him.

"So we need you to take over as his master, because in this room Ali is the lowest slave in the palace and you're his master, and you can do whatever you want to him. There are only two rules: you can't whip him hard enough to make him bleed, and you have to suck his cock and make him excited at the end. But you can do absolutely anything else that you want."

Nacer stared at him. "You mean, I have to whip my master and make fun of him?"

"Yes, except he's not your master when you're in here. You're free to do anything at all, and you'll never be punished for it, because it's part of the game. The only other thing you need to remember is that once you leave this room he is your master again, and you have to respect him and obey him the same as you do now. And, obviously, you can't tell any of the others unless Ali gives you permission – and he can only give permission for that outside this room, so you can't torture him into it in here."

Nacer still seemed to be having trouble taking it in, so Ali said, "Let's just show him, Cockroach, okay?"

"Okay. Get undressed, then, and I'll get the collar."

So Ali stripped and David put the slave collar on him and gave the key to Nacer, who stared in disbelief at his naked master. Next David strapped Ali to the frame and gagged him.

"We don't need to gag him, because in this room he can't give you orders – you can ignore anything he says in here. But it's fun to see him trying to speak and not being able to. Last time I took the gag off for a while so I could enjoy hearing him beg, though – that's fun, too. So you can decide whether you want to gag him or not – it'll be entirely up to you.

"Now, first of all we show him that he belongs to us completely and we can do anything we want to him. I usually do that like this to start with."

And he began to caress Ali's body, fondling his private parts until Ali was seriously erect, and showing Nacer what Ali's anus looked like, penetrating it a bit with a finger just to show him that he could.

"See?" he said. "He doesn't have anything that's secret or private – even his bum and his balls are ours to play with whenever we want. Come on, you have a go."

And, Nacer began to run his hands over Ali's body, hesitantly at first but gradually increasing in confidence. Over the next half hour David showed him the various things he could do, including whipping Ali's bum, and while Nacer was understandably nervous about that at first he soon warmed to the task, drawing some muffled squeals from his victim.

"Of course, you don't actually have to hurt him to make him feel bad," David went on. "I mean, you can see that his cock isn't very big, and he hasn't got any hair yet – and you know that most North African boys are starting to show some signs of hair by the time they're Ali's age. It makes him embarrassed if you keep telling him what a baby he is, and how small his cock is for his age, and stuff like that. And it'll be even more embarrassing for him when you're in charge, because yours is a lot bigger than his, isn't it? So you should punish him with your robe off, so he can see how much more of a real boy you are than he is. Go on, take your robe off now and show him."

So Nacer did that, and he was obviously enjoying himself because he got an erection straight away. And it was obviously bigger than Ali's, even though Nacer, who had turned ten a week earlier, still didn't have any hair himself: Ali's was at best three and a half inches [9 cm] long, but Nacer's was a good inch longer.

"See? You're far more of a man than he is, even though he's a year and a half older than you. And while he's strapped up like this his bum is completely unprotected – you could even fuck him if you wanted to, and there wouldn't be anything he could do about it. Can you imagine how bad it would be for him to get fucked by a younger boy, and by a junior slave at that? You might need to find a small box to stand on, and you'd need to rub some cream round his hole and round your cock in order to make it slip in, but that would be easy, wouldn't it?"

"Could I really?" said Nacer. "I mean, wouldn't he be angry afterwards?"

"No, once you're finished here everything is finished – you're not allowed to say anything or treat him as anything other than your master, and he isn't allowed to punish you for anything that happens in here. It's like it never happened. So you really can do absolutely anything you want."

"Oh, wow!"

"Just remember that he needs to be sucked at the end. Do you know how to do that?"

"Not really. I remember how nice it felt when you did it to me, but I'm not sure if I could do it as well as you do."

"Okay, time for a refresher." And David gave Nacer a ten minute how-to-suck lesson, getting Nacer to suck him for a bit, giving him pointers and advice as to how to make it more enjoyable experience for the person on the receiving end. By the time the lesson was over he reckoned Nacer was pretty good at it, and – more important – the young boy didn't seem to mind doing it at all, and in fact he seemed to be enjoying making David wriggle about and utter little gasps. And when David told him to try it for real on Ali – and he took Ali's gag off first so that he could comment – the result was as good as he could have wanted: Nacer immediately grasped the idea of teasing his master by stopping short before he could get excited, and successfully kept him on the edge for a good five minutes. Finally David told him to finish the job, waited for Ali to get his breath back and then unstrapped him.

"So, do you think he's up to the job?" he asked.

"Definitely," said Ali. "He'll need to practise sucking a bit, because he's not as good as you yet – though obviously you've got loads more experience than him, so I'd be surprised if he was as good as you. But otherwise I think he'll do really well."

"Good. Then kneel in front of him, kiss his cock and swear to be a good and obedient slave to him whenever you play this game together."

Because Ali had only just had an orgasm his enthusiasm was a little reduced, but he still forced himself to do as David told him. Then David told Nacer to remove Ali's collar and put it back in the cupboard, so that it would be ready for the next time they played, and then Ali and Nacer got dressed and Ali led them back out into the real world.

"Don't forget that in that room he has to do anything you want," whispered David in Nacer's ear. "Even when he isn't strapped to the frame he has to obey you. So you can force him to do anything you want. I think it would be funny if you made him suck your cock for a change. And you should definitely fuck him: he'd never admit it, but I think he'd want you to do that."

***

Fixing things so that Ali could go on enjoying his bondage game was about the last task David had to do. That evening after the evening meal Ali took him through to the main part of the palace for the first time to meet his father, though he got Rafik to find David a spare slave robe first – he wasn't sure that his father would appreciate a naked boy in his house. It was the first time David had worn anything except, briefly, a blanket in nearly six months, and it felt strange. Ali took David to his father's study and left him there, and his father told David to sit down.

"Which language would you prefer?" he asked in French.

"I don't mind, Sir. I can understand Arabic, but I don't think my grammar is very good."

"We can use English if you like."

"Thank you, Sir – I'd like that."

"So, you're the boy my nephew said was an obnoxious little racist, and you're also the boy who saved my son's life. How did that happen?"

"Well, Sir, Brahim was right about me once, but I've learned an awful lot since I came here. Now I'm really close friends with a lot of the other slaves, and the twins are wonderful masters – if their brother hadn't taught me to play the stick game I wouldn't have been able to get the snake before it bit Ali, so really you should be thanking them."

"Ali said it was really brave, that you could easily have been bitten yourself."

"To be honest I didn't stop to think. I just grabbed it. I think I was lucky, really."

"Well, Ali thinks you're wonderful, and I have to say that you don't seem anything like the boy Brahim described to us. So I've arranged to have you flown back to England on Saturday. I don't know if Ali's told you, but Brahim's still in hospital and nobody knows if he's going to recover or not, but… I know I have no right to ask you this, but I'd really appreciate it if you could keep quiet about him bringing you here. Obviously if you want to make a complaint about him you can, but if you could just say you don't know how you got here, or where 'here' is, it will make it easier for his father and mother, who have got plenty to worry about already. If you do complain I'm certain it won't affect me or my son, but Brahim's in England… well, you see what I'm saying here. It won't stop me taking you home, but I know Ali would prefer to keep his cousin out of trouble if possible."

"I'm sure I could do that," said David. He wasn't sure that he actually would do that, not yet, but then if Brahim really was seriously ill it wouldn't really do any good to set the law on him. And, since it had been his attempt to get Brahim expelled that had kicked the whole thing off, maybe it would be better to let it go – after all, he thought that on balance he'd benefited from his time here.

"Good. Now, you're going to need some clothes for the journey – it'll be cold in England, so you can't just go back wearing a thin robe. I'll get one of the servants to measure you up and we'll find some English clothes for you."

"Thank you very much," said David.

"Not at all. Now – and I'd like an honest answer here, please – what do you think of the way my son runs his household?"

Now that was a tricky question.

"Well," he said, "all the slaves say he's fair: if you do something wrong you get punished, but if you do your job properly you'll be fine. Slaves like a master like that, because they know where they stand. I've heard the slaves complain about one or other of the overseers from time to time, but never about Ali. And he doesn't go overboard with punishments, either: when I first got here, Brahim was trying to frighten me by saying Ali used scorpions as punishments, and he pretended the same thing himself once, too. But now I know that's rubbish: bad slaves get beaten, that's all.

"Once or twice he's made mistakes, I think, but he knows when to ask for advice, and he always asks Rafik for help if he needs it. A lot of masters would be too proud to ask a servant for guidance, but not Ali. He's even asked me for advice in the last day or two. I think he's doing a good job."

"So do I. I visit sometimes, usually in the evening after you'd have been asleep, I think, but I like the way things run over there. I'm quite proud of him, actually. Fairly soon we'll have to push his education forward a bit… still, that's not for you to worry about.

"Come on, let's go and get you measured, and then you can get back to your own room."

He took David along a corridor to a room where a servant measured him for his new clothes, and then Ali took him back to his own side.

"So what did he say?" he asked, nervously. "Did he ask you about me?"

"Yes, and I said you were hopelessly incompetent, a tyrant who whips his slaves for no reason at all, and that the place was falling apart round your ears."

Ali stared at him and David laughed.

"Of course I didn't, you idiot," he said. "I told the truth: I said you were doing a good job, and that the slaves respect you because you're fair. Don't worry, Master, he's happy with you. Very happy, I think."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Hold on a moment…"

They had reached their own side, and at once David removed his robe and the sandals he had been lent.

"I'm not allowed clothes over here, remember?" he said. "Actually, I'm more comfortable without, and I'd like to stay like this for the last day and a bit. That way you don't have to break your word to Brahim about that, either."

"I don't mind if you want to keep that robe until Saturday."

"No, thanks. It's not as if the rest of the household doesn't know what I look like, is it?"

He went back to his room and slept. He spent most of Friday with the twins, and they seemed a little subdued, so he talked them into having sex with him for most of the afternoon, and they enjoyed that, teasing him about his tiny dagger as compared to their mighty spears, which they used on him one more time.

At the evening meal all the slaves lined up one by one to say goodbye to him – probably he would not get another chance to see them all before he left the next day. They wished him luck, and he promised to come back to visit them whenever he could. Madjid looked as if he wanted to say something but wasn't prepared to in public, so instead he hugged David really hard, pretending he was trying to hurt him but clearly doing nothing of the kind.

That night the twins got him to bring his mattress out of the closet into their room, and the three of them slept side by side: as far as they were concerned David was now their brother and friend, not their slave.

He still went and collected breakfast for them in the usual way, ate it with them and then returned the bowls to the servery, and by the time he got back upstairs the twins had gone to report to Ali as usual. He waited to be sent for, but before the summons came Madjid appeared at the door.

"I've got something for you," he said, holding out the little box containing David's foreskin.

"Keep it," said David. "I want you to have it – that way you'll always have part of me, just like I'll always have part of you inside me. And it's a guarantee I'll come back, too, because every now and again I'll have to come to make sure that the last bit of me is still safe."

"Right. Thanks, Cockroach. I've decided I'm going to ask the imam if I can learn French, then I'll be able to come to Europe one day and beat you up in your own home and fuck you in your own bed. That'd be fun."

"If you ever do come to England you can do that as often as you like – but I don't suppose you'll have the money for that for a few years yet."

"Me, neither. Still, it'll be worth waiting for. Oh, well, I'd better go to work, I suppose. Have a good trip. See you, Cockroach."

And he turned and opened the door and hesitated, and David grabbed him and hugged him hard.

"Work hard, Madjid," he said. "The sooner you start earning money, the sooner you'll be able to come and fuck me in my own house, okay?"

Madjid grinned at him. "That's worth working for," he agreed, and he gave David a quick squeeze and broke free. He opened the door, smiled once more, and was gone.

Nacer came to fetch him about half an hour later, but before they went back to Ali's day room, David pulled the younger boy into the room for a moment.

"Has Ali treated you any different since Thursday?" he asked.

"No, he's been exactly the same as always – and so have I. Nobody will ever guess we're doing bad things down there."

"Good. And have fun, Nacer – the more you do it, the more completely Ali will trust you, and the more bad stuff you'll be able to do to him. And next time I visit I'll want to hear all about it."

"Don't worry – I've already got some really dirty ideas. This is going to be the best game ever."

Nacer led him back to the day-room, and there David found Ali, the twins, Rafik and a complete set of Western clothes. The underwear was a very unfashionable white, and it felt really strange having a pair of white briefs pressing against his genitals. But the rest of the clothes were decent, a good-quality shirt, a pair of jeans that fitted perfectly, a pullover and a thick ski-jacket. It was far too warm to wear either the pullover or the jacket, and so he packed them into the small suitcase that had also been supplied.

"You'd never recognise him, would you?" said Rafik.

"It feels really weird," said David. "I think I prefer being naked."

"You won't when you get back to England," said Ali. "My father says it's about three degrees above freezing over there."

David put on the socks and the expensive-looking leather shoes, though that felt strange, too, and then he was ready to go.

He shook Rafik's hand, gave Nacer a quick hug, and then gave each of the twins a much longer one.

"You've taught me a lot," he said. "I'll miss you."

"We will miss our Cockroach, too," said Kuyo. And then Ali took him back to the main part of the palace, where he found Ali's father waiting with the two men who were going to escort him back to England.

Ali turned to go. David wasn't sure if he should hug him with his father watching and offered him his hand, but Ali just pushed it aside and hugged him instead.

"There's an envelope in the suitcase," he said. "It has my address on it. I'd really like it if you could write me a letter when you get home to say that you arrived safely."

"I'll do that," David promised. "And I'll expect you to write to me sometimes, too, just to tell me what is happening here and how everyone is."

"I will." Ali hugged him again and then watched as David shook his father's hand and then followed the two men away down the corridor.

The journey took quite a while: a short ride in a land-rover to an airstrip, a flight in a small plane across the Sahara, landing to refuel somewhere in the north, and then another journey over Spain and France and on towards England. David didn't have his passport with him, of course, so the pilot did a very short unscheduled landing at a private airstrip that consisted of one grass runway and a couple of sheds. David and his escort jumped out and the pilot resumed his journey towards Bristol where he would in due course land as per his official flight plan. If anyone had noticed the unscheduled stop he would claim engine trouble.

There was a car in one of the sheds, and David and his escort got into it and drove the rest of the way to David's home near Tewkesbury.

"Now, you can't describe the car or us, remember?" said one of his escorts. "We'll be safely away in half an hour, so all you have to do is to keep quiet until then."

"Don't worry," said David. "I think I can forget the last few hours. And thank you."

He got out of the car, zipped his ski-jacket up – it really did feel cold – picked up his suitcase, watched the car drive away and then walked the last fifty yards to his driveway. He had no idea of what sort of welcome he'd get: he thought maybe Joe would be happy to see him, but otherwise he really wasn't sure. And he wasn't sure what would happen when he went back to school, either… still, that was something to worry about later. Right now only one thing mattered: he was home.

Well, David is back in Gloucestershire, but he's been away for nearly six months, so it might be difficult to settle back into his old routine. Even remembering to put some clothes on in the morning might not come easily… In the next chapter we'll see him trying to reintegrate – things might have changed a bit during his absence…

Chapter Thirty

Well, David's home again, but there are still one or two issues that need to be resolved: how will his experiences in Africa change the way he behaves in England? What is he going to do about Michael: has the last six months changed the way he feels about sex with other boys? This final chapter should hopefully make everything clear.

David rang the doorbell – he supposed that either Brahim had taken his keys with him or, more probably, they had been thrown away at the palace – and waited. He wasn't sure what he would do if there was nobody home, but this was Saturday evening, and there were lights on, so probably someone was in. He wondered if they were eating, though it seemed a little late for that.

And then he heard the lock being undone, and the door opened, and he found himself looking at Joe. It came as a bit of a surprise to find that he was looking down at Joe: before he had gone to Africa there had only been three or four inches [8-10 cm] between them; now it was closer to eight or nine. Apparently he had grown while he was away – that, or Joe had somehow shrunk.

"Yes?" said Joe, unable to see who was there: it was dark outside in the porch, and he hadn't turned the hall light on.

"Can I come in, please, Joe?" asked David.

Joe stared, reached to his left and turned on the porch light. "Gerbil?" he said. "Is that really you?"

"Well, it's most of me," said David. "And…"

Joe interrupted him with a whoop and threw himself into David's arms.

"We thought you were dead," he said, hugging him and then stepping back to look at him properly. "Wow, you look different… apart from being taller, I mean. Have you been sunbathing?"

He didn't give David a chance to answer, just grabbed his hand, pulled him into the house, shut the door and yelled, "Hey, everyone – Gerbil's back!"

Tim and Molly emerged from the living room, Mrs Devlin came running out of the kitchen… and David's mother came out of her office, took one look and ran across the hall.

"David!" she cried. "Are you alright? Where have you been, for Heaven's sake? We've all been so worried…"

David wasn't entirely convinced about that – after all, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of his mother between Easter and the beginning of July. But still, she was here now, so maybe she really had been concerned.

"I'm fine," he said. "But I'm tired – it's been a really long journey. Can I just go to bed, please? I'll talk to you all properly in the morning."

"But you can't just walk in and not tell us where you've been!" his mother protested.

"I've been in Africa. Look, it's a really long story, so can we do this tomorrow? Please?"

"Well… I suppose so. But…"

"Thanks, Mum. I missed you – all of you – and it's really good to be home."

And he hugged his mother, something he couldn't remember doing in recent months, or maybe even years, and headed for the stairs.

"Can I get you something to eat before you go to bed, Master David?" asked Mrs Devlin, and David hesitated.

"Just 'David', please, Mrs Devlin," he said. "But… yes, please. Have you got a couple of plain biscuits and a glass of milk? I don't think I'll be able to eat anything too rich for a while."

"Go on up," said Joe. "I'll bring it up to you."

"Thanks," said David, gratefully, and he picked up his bag and went upstairs to Joe's room, removed his jacket, pullover and shoes and sat on the bed, though he stood up again straight away and went and sat on the chair instead: the bed felt far too soft for comfort.

Joe appeared a couple of minutes later carrying a tray that held a small plate of biscuits and a glass of milk, and David took a biscuit and nibbled at it. And, as he had half expected, he had barely taken a sip of his milk when Tim and Molly came in and sat on the bed.

"So, what happened?" Tim asked.

"I got kidnapped," said David.

"Yes, we know about that. I meant, what happened afterwards?"

"Hang on – how do you know I got kidnapped?"

"Your friend told us – the one with the curly hair and glasses. See…"

And Tim explained how Brahim had promised to bring him back if Jordan and Julian could find twenty people to speak up for him.

"You'll have to ask Curly how he got seven kids at your school to speak up for you, but Joe rounded up a lot of the cubs, and your friend Michael, and in the end Dhif was so impressed he said he'd go straight home and make the phone call to bring you back. Except he got hit by a van before he got home, and he's been in a coma in hospital ever since, so the call never got made. So how did you manage to escape?"

"I didn't escape, they let me go. I had a bit of luck and managed to change Brahim's cousin's mind, and so they had me flown home. But… if you lot knew it was Brahim who kidnapped me, how come you didn't go to the police – or did you?"

"No. I thought we should, but Michael said it wouldn't do any good, because nobody knew where you were except Dhif, so even if we told the police they wouldn't have any more of an idea as to where you were than we did. He sounded out Dhif's father carefully and was convinced he didn't know anything, so we decided to wait for Dhif to wake up. Except he still hasn't. Mind you, the police have been looking – your mum came home about a week after you vanished and got a really big search going. She got a load of important politicians in London to push the police, and they did a massive search. But I don't think they had any idea you'd been taken out of the country, and nor did we – nothing Dhif said made us think you weren't still in England somewhere. So how did you get to Africa?"

"I don't know, because I was unconscious all the way. They stuck a needle in me in Cheltenham and I woke up somewhere in Africa. But I'd guess they flew me there, the same way as I came back."

"There's going to be some people who want to know you're okay," Tim told him. "You'll need to make some phone calls tomorrow."

"I will. Look, I'm really pleased to be back, but I'm knackered. Is it okay if I go to bed now? I'll be able to talk a bit more sensibly in the morning."

"Yes, okay. Sorry, Gerbil," said Tim. "And… tomorrow I'll help you move back into your own room."

"No, you don't have to do that. In fact, I'd like to sleep in the attic tonight, if that's okay? I'm not used to proper beds and windows."

"Sure. We'll leave you in peace," said Tim, standing up. "Give Joe a shout if you need anything."

"Okay. Hey, Tim… I've missed you, you know," said David, getting up himself. "And you, Molly. Come on, I'd better have a wash before I go to sleep."

"I think you can probably manage on your own from now on," she said. "You seem to have grown up a bit since we last saw you."

"Thanks." David took his shirt off and walked through to the bathroom for a wash. Hot water was a rare luxury – the slaves' wash-room only had cold water – and as for toothpaste… he was afraid he'd need to see a dentist before too long, because washing his mouth out with salt water, as he had done in the palace, or cleaning his teeth with a chewed green stick, the way Tahnu had taught him, had probably done a pretty inefficient job.

He dried himself, walked back to Joe's room and found that Tim and Molly had gone, and Joe was putting the ladder up against the hatch.

"Hey, Gerbil… would you mind if I slept with you up there? It's just… well, now we've got you back I don't want you disappearing again."

"I don't think I could manage to escape through the roof," David told him, "and the hatch is the only way out. But… actually, I wouldn't mind not being on my own tonight."

"Great! I'll leave the light on down here, then – and maybe I can welcome you back in the morning by giving you a good fuck."

"And maybe you can't. Anyway, right now I just want to sleep. Should I take my clothes through to Molly's room, or can I just leave them here, do you think?"

"Just leave them on the bed."

"Okay." David began to take the rest of his clothes off, folding them up and putting them in a tidy pile on the bed. He slipped his pants off, put them on top of the pile and turned towards the ladder.

"Bloody hell!" gasped Joe. "What's happened to your cock?"

"I got circumcised."

"Wow! It looks weird… and you're a lot bigger, too. You're growing up, Gerbil. And what's that mark on your hip?"

"That's my slave brand."

"Oh, my God! Flaming hell, Gerbil… you mean, they burned that mark into you?"

"That's right. I've almost forgotten about it, to be honest, but it hurt like hell when it was done."

Joe came and ran a finger carefully over the brand mark, and then gently cupped David's penis in his hand and examined the circumcision scar.

"That looks really sore," he said. "And they didn't do a very good job, either – look at that little bit on the top! How did they miss that bit?"

"It was intentional – it was done by a couple of boys, and the aim was to hurt as much as possible. And if it hadn't been for a servant being decent and helping me, it would have been a hell of a lot worse. Look, let's go up to bed, Joe – you can have a proper look up there if you want, but I want to lie down."

So they climbed the ladder into the attic and turned the light on, and then Joe went back down to turn the bedroom light off. But he had to go back down a second time because he'd forgotten that they'd taken the sleeping-bag back to the bedroom, and in fact he decided that it was cold enough in the attic to bring up a second sleeping-bag and a couple of blankets. He zipped the two sleeping bags together, put the blankets on top, and then got undressed and wriggled into the sleeping bag with David. Finally he reached up and turned the light off.

"Does your cock still hurt?" he asked, cuddling up close so that they would keep each other warm.

"Not now. It took over a month to heal properly, but it's okay now. And it still works – I've got some sperm now, Joe."

"Really? You'll have to show me in the morning."

David snuggled up close, glad Joe was there to help keep him warm: it had been over twenty degrees when he had left the palace, but now it was only a degree or two above freezing. And he really was tired, too – though he wanted to know more about how Jordan and Michael had managed to round up twenty people to speak up for him. He wouldn't have thought that was possible…

He slept well, probably better than he would have done in a soft bed, and only woke up when Joe shook him gently.

"Morning, Gerbil," said Joe. "How do you feel?"

"Okay, I suppose."

"Good. So let's have a proper look at your cock, then."

It was a bit warmer in the attic now because the hatch had been left open, allowing heat from the bedroom to rise into the attic, but it still felt chilly to David when Joe opened the sleeping bag, and he said so.

"Sorry," said Joe, doing the bag up again. "I suppose you're used to being somewhere hot. I'll just get you nice and hard first, and then I can have a look at it without getting you too cold." And he started to caress David's penis. David didn't argue, even though he thought he was probably strong enough to beat Joe in a fight by now: after all, this did feel quite good. Soon his body was responding, and then Joe started to stroke up and down his erection, but very slowly.

"You really are a lot bigger," said Joe. "I can get hold of you properly now, using my whole hand. I used to have to use one finger and thumb, you were so small. Okay, let's have a proper look…"

He opened the bag again, wriggled down so that his head was just above David's groin and began to examine his genitals.

"Your balls are a lot bigger, and they hang down properly now," he reported. "And… blimey, Gerbil, you're actually getting some hair – there's a few proper ones on your balls, and some very fine stuff at the bottom of your cock. And you're way bigger than last time I saw you – you might even be bigger than me now."

"So I should be. I'm fifteen and you're only nine."

"I'm ten," said Joe. "You missed my birthday – it was at the end of July. And you didn't give me a birthday present, so I think I'll have to fuck you to make up for it."

"Okay. But… can we go down to the bedroom? It's probably warmer down there."

"Well… okay, then. But we'll have to get a heater put in up here – I like doing stuff to you in the attic."

So they moved quickly down to the bedroom, where it was a lot warmer, and Joe played with David a bit more and then held his penis alongside his own.

"Nope, I'm still bigger," he said. "But not by much. I reckon you'll get bigger than me in a couple of months. So I'll have to make the most of being bigger by fucking you every day until then."

"I don't think so," said David. "I don't mind you doing it occasionally – after all, I did sort of promise. Though I'm probably going to have to leave the cubs – I think I look too old now."

"I suppose so. It's a pity – I'm sixer now, because Benny went up to scouts after the summer camp, and I'd enjoy bossing you around. But you're right, we can't really do that any more. And I know I won't really be able to do it to you every day, because I expect you'll get your own room back now your mum's around, and then I won't get the chance."

"I'm not sure I want my old room back – I wouldn't know what to do with all that space. I'm used to living in a really small room, half the size of the attic. If we can fix up some heating up there I'd prefer to stay there for now, and then sort of gradually get used to being in a proper room after that. So I'd like to start off just sharing with you, and once I'm used to being sort of normal again, maybe then I'll ask for a room of my own. But I don't want to throw Tim out – he's grown up enough to be wanting to invite girls round before too long, and he can't really do that if he's sharing a room with you."

"Don't be silly – if he wants to get off with a girl he'll take her to our old house, where there aren't any grown-ups to worry about and where nobody is going to interrupt him."

"I suppose so. But I'm sure there are other ways we could do it – like I could move into the guest bedroom, and come back to share with you if my mother has anyone to stay. As long as you don't mind sharing with me, of course."

"Of course not – I really missed you, and not just because I couldn't fuck you when I wanted to, either. It was nice just talking to you and being sort of friends."

"Only 'sort of'?"

"Well… sort of friends, sort of brothers. That's what I told Dhif when I was explaining why I wanted you back."

"Did you really say that?"

"Yes. And I was really happy when he said he'd bring you back."

"Thanks, Joe. Come on, let's get back into bed – it'll be warmer there."

So he got into Joe's bed, and Joe squeezed in with him, and pretty soon they were nice and warm again.

"I won't really fuck you any more," said Joe, quietly. "I did miss you, and I don't want to piss you off now I've got you back. We can just be friends now, if you don't mind being friends with me."

"Of course I don't mind. I thought about you sometimes when I was on my own in the cupboard I lived in. I missed you a lot, Joe. And I don't mind if you fuck me sometimes, honest. I think I'd like to feel really close to you like that again."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. See, I… I got fucked while I was a slave, and I had to suck a lot, too. And if you and the other Reds hadn't got me used to it before, I think it would have driven me mad. It's because of you lot, and especially you, that I was able to get through it. So I don't mind you fucking me sometimes, and I won't mind sucking you sometimes, either, if you'd like me to. I had to do it while I was a slave, so I don't mind choosing to do it for a friend."

"Oh, God, Gerbil… was it really horrible?"

"It was at first. But I think in the end the boys who fucked me started liking me, and after that they were a lot more careful and tried not to hurt. But they were really big, about Benny's size, or maybe even bigger, so the first few times it hurt really badly. And some of the older ones had lots of spunk, so when I sucked them it all came out in my mouth and made me sick. But after a bit I got used to it and I found I could do it without it making me ill. I still didn't like it much, but I got good at it, and perhaps once I've settled back in I'll do it for you and show you what I learned. But right now, if you still want to fuck me, let's do that."

So Joe went and found a bottle of shampoo in the bathroom and used it to lubricate his erection, and then poured a little more onto David's anus.

"Your hole looks sore," he said. "There's a sort of bump on one side, and it looks like there's a little crack on the other. Are you sure I can do this without hurting you?"

"I'm sure. You're a lot smaller than the twins. Just take it slow."

So Joe took it slow and then drew out the fuck for several minutes, lying still on top of David every time he thought he was getting too close, and only finishing up because he thought it was getting a bit late and that other people would start getting up shortly. And it was obvious from the noises he made at the end that he enjoyed it. David had felt quite good, too – he hadn't actually experienced an orgasm, but he was thoroughly erect.

Joe got out of bed and cleaned himself off and then wiped David's bottom, dumped the tissues in the bin, got into bed again and cuddled up close.

"Thanks, Gerbil," he said. "That was brilliant – I'd forgotten how amazing that feels. I'm really, really glad you're back…"

***

After breakfast David had to give the official version of what had happened to him, so, bearing in mind what Tim and Joe had told him, he simply said that he had been grabbed off the street, drugged, and woken up somewhere in Africa.

"But who did it?" his mother asked. "And why?"

"I don't know. I think they just wanted someone with very fair hair, and I was the unlucky one."

"But what happened while you were there, wherever it was – and how did you get away?"

"Well, I was a slave. I spent most of my time scrubbing floors, polishing furniture and mucking out horses. It could have been a lot worse – after all, they fed me – quite well, if I'm honest – and gave me somewhere to sleep – I even had a proper mattress. And I sort of got used to it, and then a few days ago I managed to stop a snake from biting my master, and he was so impressed that he set me free. But they drugged me again to bring me home, so I don't know where I was exactly or how I got back – and I don't care, either, because now I'm home."

"Yes, but… we have to do something! I can get the police to try to extradite whoever was responsible."

"But I don't know who it was or even which country I was in. I know it was somewhere in the north, because most of the people had light brown skin and they spoke Arabic, but that could be anywhere from Morocco to Egypt. I suppose it could even have been somewhere in the Middle East, but I don't think so because there were mountains, or at least some very high hills, and some of the servants were black, too. But I just want to forget it, Mum – just tell the police I'm back and leave it at that, otherwise they'll go on asking questions for ages and I'll never be able to get back to normal."

"Well… if you're sure that's what you really want. But we're going to see the doctor tomorrow – I want you to have a complete check-up. God knows what sort of diseases you could have caught…"

David finally managed to stop the inquisition, and then he was able to go and use the phone. He knew Michael's address and so he was able to look up his number in the book.

"Could I speak to Michael, please?" he asked, when Mr Stagg answered the phone. "It's David."

"He heard Mr Stagg calling for his son, adding that 'someone called David' wanted to talk to him, and then Michael's voice came on.

"Hi, Mikey," he said. "I'm home."

"David? Is that really you? Oh, God… are you okay? I mean, how did you get back? Never mind – I'll come over straight away…"

"No, I'll come to you, as soon as we've had lunch," said David. "I'll borrow the Devlins' keys, then we can talk in peace. God, Michael – I thought I'd never hear your voice again…"

"Me, too. I really missed you… so, are you okay?"

"More or less. Look, Mikey, Tim's told me about how you lot all tried to talk Brahim into bringing me home, and I'd like to call Jordan Fielding, too, but I don't know his address and there are too many Fieldings in the book. Have you got his number, or has Julian?"

"I've got it. Hang on…"

Michael went away and came back a minute later. He gave David Jordan's number and said he'd meet him at the Devlins' house at three o'clock.

David called Jordan's number, but his mother said he was out but would be back that afternoon, and could she give him a message?

"No, thanks – I'll call again after lunch," said David.

And after lunch – and David couldn't eat more than a little of what he was given, because he'd got used to living on food that was a lot less rich – he caught the bus into Cheltenham and walked round to the Devlins' house. Because there was nobody living there full-time – though the children still used it after school some days and Mrs Devlin went in to clean a couple of times a week – the heating wasn't turned on and it was quite cold, but David turned on the electric fire in the living room, and by the time Michael arrived half an hour later it was nice and warm.

Michael's face lit up when David opened the door to him.

"Oh, God, it's really you," he said. "You've grown, David."

"So have you, I think."

"Yes, but not so much – there's probably only about three inches [8 cm] between us now."

He stepped inside, pushed the door shut and then hugged David hard, and David returned the hug happily.

"Come on," he said, "I've got the heating on in the living room."

He pulled Michael into the living room, moved the sofa a little so that it was right in front of the fire, sat down and pulled Michael down next to him, keeping his arm round his waist.

"Like I said, Tim's told me all about you lot and Brahim," he said. "Thanks, Mikey – it must have been really hard to find twenty people to speak up for me."

"Not really. The whole of the cub pack would have done it if we'd needed them to, and Jordan found enough people at school without even asking Garrett or Blackman, and he was fairly sure they would both have said something if he'd asked them to. I'm not completely sure who he got – you'd have to ask him."

"I will. I'm going to speak to him later if I can. So, is Brahim still in hospital?"

"As far as I know. I went in last week and he was still there then. His friend Southgate is sure he's going to wake up soon, but there's no sign of it so far."

"I'll have to go and see him this week, then – maybe if I tell him I'm back it'll help: perhaps his subconscious is scared of waking up because he didn't rescue me like he promised, or something."

"Maybe. Anyway, never mind about him – what about you? Are you really okay? Tell me what happened. What have you been doing for the last six months?"

"Well… I've been a slave. Brahim's got an eleven-year-old cousin called Ali who runs his own household – more or less, anyway: his bit is a sort of annexe to his father's palace… well, it's not a palace in the Sleeping Beauty sense, just a big house. And Brahim gave me to Ali to be his slave, and Ali gave me to a couple of black twins – they're his personal bodyguard, or will be when they all get a bit older – as their slave, which he thought would be funny, because Brahim told him I was a racist.

"And at first it was really horrible, but later it wasn't so bad – I managed to prove that I wasn't a racist any longer, and gradually I started to fit in and even make friends. But early on I wanted to die – I missed Cheltenham more than I would have ever thought possible, and I missed the Devlins and the cubs… and I missed you most of all."

"And I missed you, too… I was afraid you'd never come back…"

"You want to see my suntan, though – I look like I've been spending the last six months lounging on a beach in the Bahamas, or something. And it goes all the way down, too."

"All the way?"

"Every inch, because I wasn't allowed to wear any clothes. I'll show you."

And David stripped off everything except his pants, and Michael was impressed with the tan – and then he noticed some marks on David's back.

"Shit, David – are those marks what I think they are?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, I got whipped a few times. It doesn't hurt any more now, though."

"Right. So, do I get to see if the tan really does cover all of you?"

David hesitated. "Okay," he said. "But I should warn you, there are a few more scars."

And he took his pants off, and Michael gasped, staring at David's suntanned bottom, and at the fading whip-marks.

"God, David, someone really sorted you out, didn't they? And… what's that mark at the side?"

"That's my slave brand. Pretty, isn't it?"

Michael stared at him open-mouthed, and then David turned to face him and his shock increased.

"Oh, God, what have they done to you?" he gasped, staring at David's mutilated penis.

"Well, it was an Islamic household, so I had to be circumcised," he explained. "A couple of the slaves did it, and they didn't like me very much at the time, which is why it's not a very smooth job. But that doesn't hurt any more, either – and have you noticed that it's grown?"

"Obviously – and quite a lot, too. And you're getting some hair at last. Not as much as me, of course, but still…"

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Michael grinned at him and threw his own clothes off, and the contrast between his very pale skin and David's deeply tanned body was striking. Michael's pubes were a bit thicker, and his penis had grown a little, David thought, but he still had no hair anywhere else on his body. And then Michael started to get an erection, and so did David, and they grinned at each other and moved closer so that they could fondle each other and then compare sizes (and Michael was still an inch and a quarter [3¼ cm] or so longer, and slightly thicker, though his balls were now not much larger than David's), and then they hugged and lay down on the sofa, holding each other.

"Michael," said David, seriously, "there's something you need to know: while I was a slave I got fucked, two or three times a week, by the twins – the two black boys I told you about. And I had to suck all the other slaves, too. So… I'll understand if you don't want… you know, to… well, to do… things with me any more."

"Did the bastards hurt you?" asked Michael, angrily.

"Only at first. Later they got to like me and after that they were much more gentle. But what I mean is… well, now that I've been… you know, now I've had that done to me so much, I…"

"You mean you don't want me to do anything like that with you?" interrupted Michael, looking disappointed. "That's okay, David, I won't ever suggest it again – I don't want to hurt you."

"No, that's not what I meant at all. I want you to do it… that is, I mean, if it doesn't bother you, me having been… done by black kids?"

"Of course it doesn't! It wasn't like you suggested it, is it?"

"Great! Then, if you still want to… I mean, I'd really like it if… that is, could we… could we have sex? Please, Mikey?"

"Are you sure it's what you want?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't sure before I went away, but I've learned a lot since, and I missed you so much – and now I want us to be together – properly together. Joined. So… will you? Please?"

"Oh, God, yes! Yes, please, David!"

"Right. Then I need to find a towel and something slippery – I forgot to bring any Vaseline or anything. Stay there."

And David ran to the bathroom, where he scavenged a small towel and some shampoo, and then he returned to the living room. He put the towel on the edge of the sofa, knelt down so that he was lying on it and spread his legs.

"Go on, then," he said. "Let's see if it feels as nice as it did the first time."

Michael applied the shampoo to himself and to David, lined up and pushed carefully, and David, who by now knew exactly how to do this, pushed out to open himself up and allowed Michael to slip inside. And Michael started to move, very slowly, against him, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight.

"Is it okay?" he asked, nervously. "I mean, it's not hurting you, is it?"

"No. Don't worry, Mikey, it feels really nice."

And it did, too: physically it felt as good as when Madjid had done it (and that had felt really good, good enough to make him almost reach a second orgasm), but this time there was a feeling of genuine equality that David really liked: he felt that Michael really cared about him and how this felt to him, and that he wanted David to take as much pleasure from it as possible.

"Mikey, that feels so good," he said. "Please don't finish too quickly – I want this to last."

"Me, too." And Michael hugged him some more, and David managed to get his hands on top of Michael's to make sure he didn't let go, and Michael moved against him slowly, stopping whenever he thought there was a risk of him losing control. And David's own enjoyment grew and grew…

"Mikey, I'm almost there," he said. "Please can you keep going now?"

"What? You're almost there? You mean, this is getting you excited?"

"God, yes – please, Mikey, don't stop!"

So Michael kept going, and David was pushed over the edge, gasping and tensing up every muscle in his body – or so it felt to Michael. It took Michael another half minute or so to reach his own climax, which felt even better than it had the first time he had done this with David back in the summer.

"Thanks, David, that was amazing," he said, when he got his breath back.

"For me, too. It was worth waiting six months for, anyway."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," said Michael, moving back and then standing up. "But how come it made you feel good? I didn't know that could happen."

"Nor did I until the first time you did it to me. I mean, even if it didn't I wouldn't mind doing it with you sometimes to make you feel good, but as it gets me excited too, we can do it whenever you like."

"Are you sure? That might be quite a lot of times."

"Good," said David, smiling at him and leading him upstairs to the bathroom, where they cleaned themselves up and then went back down to the sofa, lying down on it, still naked, as they had before.

"So, are you coming back to school?" Michael asked him.

"I suppose so. It's going to seem a bit strange after six months away, but I suppose I'll have to. They might make me stay back a year now that I've missed a complete term, though."

"I'll help you catch up – if we work together over the holiday and then you come home with me a few times a week for the first couple of months I reckon you'll catch up."

"Or you could come home with me."

"Or we could take it in turns. But you'll have to work pretty hard, because we got quite a lot done this term."

"I'm sure I'll manage, especially if you help me. Thanks, Michael… except… why? I mean, I've been gone for six months, and now you're prepared to drop everything to help me, even if it takes up loads of your time. How come?"

"Because you're my friend, of course. Don't you know that?"

"I don't deserve you, Mikey."

"I think you deserve better than me, but you'll have to manage with just me."

"That won't be any trouble," said David, smiling and hugging him. And Michael hugged him back, and then somehow their faces were drawn together, and then their lips… Michael kissed him tentatively, and David returned it, and Michael kissed him again, and David burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" asked Michael, anxiously.

"N… nothing. I'm j… just happy," sobbed David.

"Well, that's okay, then," said Michael. And he kissed him again.

***

When David got back home he phoned Jordan again, and this time he was there, and like Michael he was delighted to hear that David was home and wanted to know all about it.

"I'll be coming back to school in a day or so," David told him. "I'll tell you all about it then."

Then he went up to Joe's room and took his bag from under the bed: he knew there was a change of socks and underwear in it, which was good, because the pair of his own pants he had put on that morning were now too small for him, and he needed a presentable pair to wear to visit the doctor next day. In the bag he also found two envelopes, one of which proved to contain his keys and the money that had been in his pocket when Brahim had kidnapped him – so clearly Ali hadn't thrown them away after all. And the other contained a piece of paper with Ali's address on (in both Arabic and Roman script) and a set of photographs, clipped to which was a short note in French that said 'In case you meant what you said about friends, here's something to help you remember us'.

He took the clip off and found himself holding a set of portrait photos, one of Ali himself and one of every servant and slave in the palace. He flicked through them, smiling as he recognised each one, and actually laughing when he came to the one of Madjid, who was grinning broadly and holding up the little box containing David's foreskin.

He put the one of Ali himself and the one of the twins on the bookcase so that he could show Joe and Michael what his masters had looked like and carefully packed the rest of the photos away in the envelope. Then he sat down at the desk and wrote Ali a short letter in French:

Hello Ali,

I got back home safely on Saturday evening. Everything here is good, and I'm starting to settle in again, though it'll be a long time before I'm ready to sleep in a normal bed. My friends – the ones I've seen so far – are happy to see me.

Thanks for the photos – I really do want to remember what all my friends there look like, though I hope to be able to visit next year – maybe even at Easter – so I won't really have time to forget. That's a nice photo of you, but maybe you should get Nacer to take one of you next time you're downstairs – it would be funny to see you like that again. I hope Nacer's working out okay!

Best wishes to everyone, and thanks again for sending me home. Even if you think the snake balanced it out, I will still always be your friend, and if I can ever help you, please let me know.

Ever yours, Cockroach.

He got a reply to this letter about three weeks later:

Dear David,

I'm glad you got home safely, and that you liked the photos. Nacer is absolutely amazing, and you wouldn't believe some of what he does when we're downstairs. I'm not going to write it down, and I'm certainly not going to risk sending a photo through the post, but he thought using a camera was a really good idea, and now he takes photos while we're there, and next time he says I have to borrow my father's video camera. We've found somewhere to hide the photos, and he says I have to show them to you next time you're here. He also wants you to come and watch when you visit. I don't know why I find it so exciting doing this stuff, but I do…

Anyway, Rafik is going to move to the main palace in two weeks' time, and I've decided to make Madjid my new personal servant, like you suggested – well, I know you didn't say to do it straight away, but anyway… My father says Rafik can help him part-time for the first two or three months, and after that I can still ask his advice if I need to, but I hope Madjid will turn out as good as you think. If he does we won't need to keep bothering Rafik for too long.

I'm learning English now, and Madjid will be too once he becomes a servant, because my father is talking about sending me to school in England in September. It's not definite yet, but if he does we'll probably come to Cheltenham, because my uncle and Brahim are already there, and of course you are, too, so we might be able to see each other quite often if you still want to. I'll probably have to stay with Brahim, but if my father can find somewhere for me to live on my own I'll need to bring a couple of servants and slaves, too, and obviously Madjid will have to be one, and Nacer, too, so you might get to see them again, too.

I really hope you can come to visit in March or April – I can tell you more then, and you can tell me a bit about where you live. And it'd be nice to see you again, too.

Best wishes, Ali.

***

On Monday David's mother took him to the doctor. She wanted to stay during the examination, but David pointed out that he was fifteen and a half and so had the right to a little privacy, which mean that at least she didn't get to see the whip marks, the brand or the evidence of the amateur circumcision. The doctor did, but he seemed confident that everything had healed or was healing without complication. He took a look at David's anus, and that did worry him a bit, not because he didn't think it would heal in due course, but because of the implications of being on the receiving end of unprotected anal intercourse. So he took enough blood to run a full set of tests for the sort of diseases one might catch, either through being fucked or simply through being in Africa, promising to send the results to David personally as soon as he had them, though he said that if there was anything wrong he would be obliged to tell David's mother.

"Don't worry," said David, "if there's anything wrong I'll tell her myself."

Next his mother took him to the school for an interview with the headmaster. Mr Weston wasn't sure that David would be able to catch up with the work he had missed and suggested keeping him back a year, but David promised to work hard, pointed out that he had a friend who was willing to help him catch up, and eventually persuaded Mr Weston to let him stay in the fifth year until Easter, when the mock O levels were due to be taken. He agreed that if his mocks were not satisfactory he would be prepared to repeat the fifth year. And, although term was due to end on the Thursday, he also said that he would like to return to school the next day.

Finally Mrs Villiers-Gore took him shopping to buy some new clothes, since he had outgrown everything in his wardrobe. He'd have been quite happy just to wear a robe, or nothing at all, while he was indoors, but he supposed that wasn't really acceptable.

So on Tuesday morning he went back to school. His appearance drew some interested comments from the rest of his form, but now he responded happily to everyone, though he didn't go into a lot of detail about how he'd spent the last six months, just saying that he'd been kidnapped and had been working as a slave somewhere in Africa. And when one of the boys expressed a certain scepticism David removed his blazer and shirt and showed him the whip marks, which shut him up straight away and actually drew a lot of sympathy, which – considering how aloof he'd been with the rest of his form previously – David found unexpected but nice.

At lunchtime he went and found Jordan, who was delighted to see him back in one piece. Jordan explained how he and Julian had found enough people to speak up for David and then gave him the list of names.

"Osterley? Pope? And Collins, for God's sake?? But I thought he hated me."

"Me, too. But Dhif said he'd counted him, so he must have said something nice about you."

So David went to find them.

"Hey, it's the Rat," said Little Collins, who was in the usual place talking to Osterley. "Thought you'd gone for good."

"I gather you tried to make sure I hadn't gone for good."

Little Collins shrugged. "Ian said I ought to be grateful to you for making us friends. But that doesn't mean I've stopped thinking you're a bastard."

"I know, and you were right. But you still did it, so I really owe you – both of you. If you ever need help, tell me and I'll do anything I can, okay?"

And he was so obviously sincere that even Little Collins was impressed.

***

"That's okay," was Pope's reaction. "You gave me and my mates a lot of fun, so I didn't mind speaking up for you. Of course, if you want to thank me properly, you could always let us all fuck you again."

"Well, maybe not. But I might be prepared to let you – just you – do it. Or I could suck you again, if you prefer."

"No, I'm just kidding. It was a laugh, but I don't want to do stuff like that with a boy again. I've got a girlfriend now."

"Wow, really? Well done! I had no idea there was a female lunatic asylum in Cheltenham – or is she from the Blind School?"

Pope grinned at him. "Maybe I should fuck you again after all," he said. "But I know you're just jealous, so I won't."

"Seriously, Pope, good luck. Bet she doesn't suck as well as me, though."

"I'll be really happy if she does, but we're not going to do anything like that for a long time yet, I don't suppose. When she does, I'll let you know how you compare." And Pope grinned at him and walked away.

***

On the Saturday, which was Christmas Eve, David went into town to do his Christmas shopping – his mother had been saving his allowance for him, so he was quite well off. But before he started shopping he went to the hospital to visit Brahim. He found his way to Brahim's room and discovered that there was already a visitor there.

"Oh," said Paul Southgate, "it's you. What are you doing here?"

"I've come to visit Brahim. I know he wanted to bring me home, and I thought if I told him I was back okay anyway he wouldn't have to worry about it. Is it okay if I talk to him for a bit?"

"Of course. Do you want me to go?"

"No, you might as well stay. I don't suppose you'll understand me, anyway."

He pulled up the second chair and started to speak to Brahim in Arabic.

"Hi, Brahim," he said. "It's me – the Rat, I mean, or the Cockroach, if you prefer, though really I'd rather you just called me Villiers-Gore – or David, which would be best if you don't mind calling me that. Anyway, I know you wanted to get me back but you didn't get a chance because of your injury. Well, I'm back anyway – Ali sent me home. So it's okay, you don't have to worry about it any longer – just come back. Ali and his father are worried about you, and I know they want you to come back too, same as I do. And… I'm sorry I was such a bastard to you before. I've learned a lot better now – the slaves showed me I was wrong, and so did the twins, and so when you wake up I'd like us to be friends.

"Your friend Southgate is still here, by the way – Michael and Jordan both told me he's been here every time they've come to visit you, so he must more or less live here, I think. He really wants you to wake up, too – same as we all do. Maybe if you wake up soon, next time we can go to visit Ali together. I'd like that.

"Anyway, I've got to go and do my Christmas shopping. I know you don't celebrate Christmas, but… well, Happy Christmas, anyway. And wake up soon, okay?"

"I didn't know you could speak Arabic," Paul said.

"I learned while I was away. I think there were quite a lot of mistakes in that, but I hope he'll get the message, anyway."

"He will," Paul said. "And he's going to wake up soon. God told me so… well, actually it was a second-former called Barnett, but I think God sent him. Sort of. Anyway, thanks for coming. Happy Christmas."

"Same to you," said David, and went to buy his presents.

***

David had a good Christmas at home with his mother and the Devlins, and Michael came over on Boxing Day and stayed over, though he slept in the spare bed in Joe's room while David slept in the attic – he still felt a lot more comfortable up there on his own. (And in fact he went on sleeping in the attic for another three weeks before moving down into Joe's spare bed. It took a while, but eventually he got used to a normal bed once more).

"I'm going to give up my job," his mother told him a couple of days later. "It was all my fault for just leaving you here while I went off to London."

"No, it wasn't: it was my fault for being an obnoxious git."

"What do you mean?"

David realised that this was a mistake. He thought quickly.

"Well," he said, "if I had hung around with other boys instead of keeping myself to myself because I thought I was better than anyone else I probably wouldn't have been on my own that evening, and then I wouldn't have got kidnapped in the first place. Anyway, I thought you'd already given up your job?"

"No, I've take some time off, and I've been coming back here at weekends the rest of the time. But I'll tell them they'll have to manage without me from now on."

"No, don't do that. I know how important this job is to you. You should go back to London – I'll be fine here with the Devlins: Mrs Devlin can look after me, and I'd like it if Tim and Molly and Joe could stay here, too. It'd be nice if you could come home and see me at weekends now and again, and maybe I could come up to London to see you some weekends, but I'll be okay here the rest of the time."

"Really?"

"Really. I'll be okay from now on, I'm sure."

***

Two days before the start of the spring term David went back to the hospital, and he wasn't surprised to find Paul there again.

"How much time have you spent sitting in that chair since the accident?" David asked.

Paul shrugged. "There's nothing I'd prefer to be doing," he said. "I just want Brahim to wake up so we can be together again."

"You really care about him, don't you?"

"I love him," said Paul, simply.

"Good. That'll give him something worth coming back for. Now, there are a couple of things I should have said to him last time but forgot about, so…"

He switched to Arabic and spoke quietly to Brahim for a few minutes, restating most of what he had said on his first visit. Then he said, "I don't know if you're worried about seeing me again, after what happened to me in Africa, but if you are, you don't need to be. I forgive you completely, the same as I hope you can forgive me for trying to get you thrown out of school. What happened to me at Ali's was a fair punishment for what I did, so I'm not angry – in fact, I'm glad you gave me the chance to find out what I was like and to do something about it. So when you wake up I'm not going to be mad at you – in fact, I just want to see you and Paul being happy together, the way I'm happy with Michael Stagg. So, it's okay to wake up, Brahim – everything is going to be okay, I promise."

He stood up. "I think him and me will be okay from now on," he told Paul. "See, I've got a friend, too, like you and Brahim, and…"

"Michael Stagg," Paul interrupted. "Yes, he told me. He's been in to visit Brahim a lot, and so has Fielding, because they were both really worried about you and wanted Brahim to wake up so he could save you. You're lucky to have friends like that."

"I know. And that's another reason I want Brahim to wake up, so that you can get back to having a friend like that, too. Anyway, I'll go and leave you in peace. Happy New Year."

"Same to you, and thanks for coming… Wait! Look, David…"

"What?"

"He moved! I'm sure he moved his hand!"

David looked, but Brahim looked exactly the same to him.

"Sorry, Paul, I think you imagined it. I suppose if you want something badly enough it's easy to imagine… shit, you're right! Nurse! Nurse!!"

The nurse appeared, and then a doctor, and obviously something was happening because he and Paul were shooed outside while medical staff bustled about. Finally a doctor came out and told them that Brahim was awake and that they could speak to him, but only for a couple of minutes.

"Hello, Rat," said Brahim, in a hoarse voice. "You're back, then. Good. You seem… different, somehow. It's odd – I can't remember making the phone call… still, I suppose I must have done, because you're here. So, did a couple of weeks with my cousin teach you anything?"

"It was a little longer than that. You've been in a coma for a while. Anyway, I'm glad you're back. I have to go, but I expect Paul can tell you all about it."

"Paul?" Brahim turned his head and saw Paul on the other side of the bed, and his face lit up. "Paul! You're here! I'm really glad to see you… I feel weird, though. What am I doing here? Is anything broken?"

"No," said Paul. "But you probably feel weird because you've been lying there for a long time. See…"

And David chose that moment to slip away, but he looked back when he reached the door and saw Paul put his arms round Brahim and hug him. Yes, he thought: everything seems to have turned out fine.

The End