Chapter 1

When I was two years old a war broke out. I don't remember it happen, I was much too young for that. It didn't matter much to me back then either, just like it didn't matter to most of the world at the time. My country only joined the war when it had been going on for a couple of years and I had turned five. Still, it didn't change anything for me. I was in kindergarten just about to enter school, which to me would've been a far more important event anyway, had I known anything about the war going on.

For my father, at the time a Captain in the Royal Normarkian Army, the war meant he had to train young men and send them off to fight in a country far away from ours. He was an instructor at one of the few remaining army bases in Normark, the country we lived in. At five, I thought war was just something to be played with some of my friends running around and pointing plastic weapons at each other while we tried to make realistic gun fire noises and pretend to die in the most dramatic of ways. To me war was nothing but a lot of fun, basically.

The war grew bigger after my country had joined in. It still took place in far away countries, which no one really knew the names of, much less where they were located. Then, acts of terrorism made life in the rest of the world, my country included, unsafe, though we were almost halfway across the planet from any real war fronts.

My mum tried to shield me from watching the news, but she wasn't around in school and I discussed it with my friends in the recesses. We were all in shock of the thought that someone would strap a bomb to themselves and walk into a mall or a movie theatre and set it off, killing lots of people including themselves. My friends pretty much all thought such a person had to be insane, that it had to be better to just throw a grenade and be able to live on afterwards. With my father being who he was, I was able to explain a grenade wouldn't cause much damage, though my friends wouldn't really believe me.

The war only got worse and the government in my country sent more men to make up for the ones who were killed in combat or freak accidents. My country wasn't the only one involved in the war, a coalition of countries had sent troops, tanks, planes and a whole score of other things around the world to stop the seemingly unstoppable enemy and the cause for the frightening terrorist attacks at the hearth. My father was one of the soldiers who bravely volunteered to be shipped out. He was promoted to Lt. Colonel and became the executive officer at an army base closer to the actual fighting.

The base was used as a sort of acclimatization for the soldiers from my country, and other countries, who weren't used to fighting in a much warmer climate than our own. Since my father had signed up for two years, and he thought it would be much safer at a heavily guarded army base, he informed my mum, me and my sister Lise that we were to go with him. I only had two days to say goodbye to my friends and to make sure my most important toys and clothes were packed so I could bring them with me.

It was hard to say goodbye, but at the age of eight, almost nine, I didn't have any say at all as to whether or not I wanted to go live on an army base located deep inside of a large desert far from anything else.

***

Life at the base was dull at best, it took me most of a week to get used to the heat and until that happened I didn't have the energy to play or look for friends. When I found the energy to finally explore the base and search for friends, I found there weren't any kids my age on the base. Except for a girl, but I'd rather die from boredom than play with girls; Charlotte in particular, she was mostly interested in her dolls and dresses. Well, there were other boys on the base, but the one closest to my own age was a lot younger than me and much too childish for my liking. He still played with action figures!

I was more into learning how to do cool tricks on the scooter I had been given for Christmas, at least until I was laughed at by three much older kids when I once again found myself lying on the ground next to the scooter. The three teenaged boys were much too old and cool to play around with scooters; they had proper skateboards. I found myself drawn to them like a moth was drawn to a light in the darkest of nights; I wanted to hang out with them, something they absolutely weren't at all interested in.

"You're too little! Go and play with Gustav. He has two of them action figures, he'll let you play with one of them," one of the teens told me.

"Or go and play with Charlotte. Maybe she'll let you kiss her."

The teens laughed heartily at me when I pulled a face at the thought of kissing the girl.

"You don't know anything yet. Go away before I fuckin' make you."

"Careful, Benjamin, he might run to his dada and tell on you."

"I'm not a rat!" I said appalled that they'd think so lowly of me.

"Bugger off, pipsqueak. And don't come back unless you get something we want," the boy named Benjamin said.

"He's too innocent for that."

"I'm n…" I started, but was interrupted by one of the boys.

"He's like a little angel. Do you have wings, little boy? Are they hidden under your fine white shirt?"

"I'm not an angel!" I almost cried.

"If you aren't, then go get us something from the shop."

"I've no money."

"Well… Don't pay for it then. Do you want to be part of the gang or not?"

I wanted to be one of them, to be cool like they were; they smoked cigarettes and used words I'd be smacked for using near my parents. Though I so desperately wanted to be one of them, going to the small on-base supermarket and take something without paying for it was almost more than I could do. But I did so, anyway.

"The fuck is this, you nutter?" Benjamin asked me when I handed him the small bag of hard candy I had pinched from the supermarket.

"You told me to get something for you."

It wasn't sweets the teens had been interested in, though they still ate all of them without letting me have any. Mikkel kicked at me when I told them how unfair I thought it was. He missed my rear end and I ran off before he could have another go at it.

***

I should have been smart enough to stop pursuing the friendship of the three teens who were clearly up to no good. However, they were about the most interesting people on the base, at least they were to me. It wasn't like I had a lot of stuff to do either, my mum spent a couple of hours every day homeschooling me and after that I spent about an hour doing school work on the computer in the small lounge. My father wouldn't let me use it for anything else and the few toys I had managed to cram into my suitcase wasn't enough to keep me occupied for long.

When I, on the next morning, opened the fridge to get something to drink, I spotted seven bottles of beer laying on the bottom shelf.

Maybe if I take one of them, Mikkel will let me be part of the gang.

I knew beer wasn't for children, my mum had been quite furious with my father when he had allowed me a small sip of one once. I didn't like how it tasted, so I couldn't understand why she had to go on and on about how my father was never to do something like that again. Had he offered me another taste, I would've refused it for sure. I didn't like beer, and I wasn't sure if the teens would be interested in the awful tasting beverage so I only snuck one of the seven bottles out of the apartment.

"You're the man! That's more like it. But, why only one when there's four of us," Mikkel said when I handed him the moist, yet still cold glass bottle.

"Uh, I don't want any," I said, though I was painstakingly aware of it making me different from the boys I so desperately wanted to be like.

"Well, I do. And I want a whole one, I'm not drinking from the same bottle as Nikolaj."

"Fuck you, Bertram. I won't drink from a bottle you've spat into."

I had to sneak back into the apartment and into the kitchen without my mum noticing. Fortunately she was busy bathing Lise, my four years-old sister and never heard me over the excited squeals from the little girl. The teens lit up when they could toast in beer, one for each of them.

"Here's to the little one!" Mikkel said and I felt happy.

My happiness didn't last for long, since of course my father knew exactly how many bottles of beer he had put in the fridge. When my mum told him she hadn't touched his beers, his attention shifted to me. I had to confess to the theft and my punishment was worsened when he actually thought I had drank his beers! I didn't say anything to correct his mistake; I wasn't about to jeopardize my new hard-earned friendship with the three older boys by ratting on them.

***

"Are you sure you can't get us another beer?"

"I already said no. My father smacked me for pinching the three I gave you yesterday."

"You little liar. Your father wouldn't spank anyone," Benjamin said.

"He did too! My bum still stings from it."

"Prove it then," Nikolaj goaded.

"You just want to see his arse. Do you fancy him, does he make you all hot and hard?" Bertram sneered.

"I'm not a poofter, you shit head!" Nikolaj said angrily and punched Bertram right in the stomach.

"Ooof" Bertram moaned while he held onto his stomach.

"Call me a poofter again and I'll cut off your balls."

"I'd like to see you try. That was only a lucky punch," Bertram said in a voice barely higher than a whisper.

"Quit it. I also think the little angel is lying. The Lt. Colonel is too much of a gentleman to be smacking his kid around like our old men," Mikkel said.

I had no choice, but it was rather simple to prove I had been smacked. My buttocks fortunately still bore the evidence of the smacking, though the redness had turned into blue and yellow bruises by then. Something the teens could see for themselves when I pushed my shorts and underwear down and hiked up my shirt.

"Sheesh, you weren't kidding. Looks like your old man got you good."

"Are you getting hard yet, Nikolaj?" Bertram asked.

"I told you to lay off, didn't I?" Mikkel said before Nikolaj had a chance to react, "No, Søren, keep your shorts down. Push them right down to your ankles. Let's see how well you march with your arse hanging out."

Mikkel barked orders at me while I did my best to comply. It was hard to march with my shorts and underwear restricting how far I could move my feet and it was almost impossible to do the turns on the spot I normally would've had no problems doing.

"Look at how small his stuff is. It's no wonder he doesn't want to play with Charlotte. It would be like two girls going at it, if he did," Bertram said while laughing.

"That would be so hot to watch, though. Uh, I mean, two girls our age making out," Nikolaj said.

"I'm not playing with girls! I only hang out with boys," I said heatedly, not really understanding what the teens meant.

"So you are a little poofter!" Mikkel said.

"I'm a what?"

"A poofter! A queer, faggot! You only want to have sex with boys!"

"Sex? No!" I objected. "I don't even know what that is. I meant I only want to do things with boys, like playing games. Like we're doing now," I tried to explain.

Though I hadn't particularly enjoyed marching with my bum showing, it had made the teens laugh, and I had actually laughed with them. The teens weren't laughing anymore, though, and neither was I, even if I still stood with my shorts and underwear around my ankles and my shirt held up high.

"Well, if you don't know what sex is, maybe we'll have to teach you. Since you only like boys, you should at least know what it would be like to be fucked by one. Nikolaj, give me the pen."

"No, Mikkel. I don't want his shit all over it. It's brand new. I only just stole it from the supply officer the other day."

"Give it here. If Søren gets shit on it, he'll lick it clean before you get it back."

Nikolaj reluctantly handed over a whiteboard marker pen to Mikkel, who promptly gave it to me. I looked at the pen, wondered what it was they wanted me to do with it. I knew the teens used the pens to tag walls all over the base; small crude drawings or the first letters of their names.

"Suck on the end of it and stick it in your arse. That's what poofters like. Taking stuff up their arses," Mikkel told me.

It was no use telling him I wasn't a poofter. I couldn't be one as I didn't like having things stuck into my bum. Well, the only thing I could remember having gone into my rear end was the thermometer my mum used whenever she thought I had a fever, but I certainly never enjoyed it when she did that.

"Do it now or you're no longer part of my gang!" Mikkel insisted.

So I sucked on the blunt end of the pen, the one opposite of the cap, and started pushing it into my bum hole. It was far thicker than any thermometer and it took quite some effort to work it in. Rather than feeling nice, it hurt when I managed to get it halfway into my bum.

It's even worse than the thermometer!

When Mikkel finally told me to pull it back out, the end of the pen was dirtied by my poo.

"Fuck! I told you it would happen, Mikkel. Now I have to steal another one!" Nikolaj whined.

"Nah, little Søren here is going to suck it clean for you. Aren't you? It's your shit that's gotten on it. It's only fair if you clean it for Nikolaj before you give it back. Don't you think so, too?"

"NO, I DON'T," I shouted, adding more quietly, "And I won't do it."

"Suck it clean, NOW!" Mikkel shouted the last word at me and it made me jump.

I threw the dirty pen on the ground and tried to quickly hike up my shorts. My underwear slowed me down when they reached my knees. I was trying to sort them out when Bertram picked up a decent sized pebble and threw it at me; it hit my shoulder and I cried out from the pain. When more pebbles and even larger stones followed, I fled from where we were. I ran as quickly as I could with my shorts still somewhere around my lower thighs.

The three teens fortunately didn't give chase, it was likely too hot for them to run, yet they kept throwing pebbles at me until I was well out of their reach. Most of the pebbles missed me though one of them struck me hard on the back of my head and it truly hurt and made me run faster and cry even harder. With my bum still hanging out I hid behind a big dumpster and bawled my misery out.

I want to go back home! I only want to be with my friends. There's no-one here who wants to be my friend.

I wailed even louder when I realized that. Until I felt a hand on my shoulder, a hand that stroked it soothingly.

"Are you hurt? Do you want me to get your mum for you?" Gustav asked me.

"No!" I cried out in alarm, "Don't get my mum."

Mum would only make it all worse by telling me I was stupid to think the older kids would be my friends. I already know that, I don't need her to tell me so.

Chapter 2

Gustav obeyed my wish and just sat down next to me. He kept stroking my shoulder which comforted me to the point where I finally stopped crying altogether.

"I saw you run through the street. I saw your butt and everything," he told me when I tried to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

"Gods!" I cried out and my tears started anew.

"No, Søren, please don't cry again. You're making me sad too. Wait, watch this!"

I sat there on the dirt behind the dumpsters, my bum still bare, and watched dumbfoundedly while Gustav got up on his feet, walked a few paces and simply pushed his shorts and white underwear all the way down to his ankles. He tugged up his t-shirt and bent over a little and wagged his little bum at me, all the while he giggled like mad.

"Oh, Gustav!" I giggled too, "I don't want to see your bum."

"It's only fair. I got to see yours," he said and reached back to spread open his bum cheeks.

"I'm sure you didn't see my hole," I objected, but not too strongly. It was a rather fascinating sight, though he hadn't wiped himself very well the last time he had gone to the loo.

"That's okay. I don't mind you looking at mine."

He kept wagging his rear end as if he was a happy little puppy, then all of a sudden he let go of his buttocks and turned around. The little boy's worm was about the size of my own which surprised me. I briefly wondered if it would grow to the same length as my worm when it got hard, but Gustav got his clothes back in order before I had time to ask.

I decided it was as good a time as any to pull my shorts up too and got up on my feet and first hefted my underwear up and into place before I pulled my shorts back up too. Gustav helped me tug in my short-sleeved shirt and, save for a small bump where the pebble had hit the back of my head, it was like the episode with the teens hadn't happened at all.

***

Gustav was almost exactly two years younger than me, he was only seven, but I almost forgot that when I played with him. He liked playing with his action figures, true, and while it was a bit too childish for me, I gave into his request of me playing with him. It was fun too, once I stopped worrying about being caught playing with dolls; no matter if they were made for girls or boys. He knew how to ride a scooter too, he was almost as good as I was; if not slightly better, but I wasn't prepared to admit to that back then. We soon grew to be the best of friends, even with the two-year age gap.

We steered clear of the three teens, something quite easily done too. They simply weren't allowed to enter our street on the base since their fathers weren't officers like my father and Gustav's parents were. The only risk we had of running into them was when we went to the supermarket or the small swimming pool and since the teens weren't likely to prowl the streets until after lunch, we made sure to go in the mornings.

In the afternoons and early evenings, we'd keep to our own street and the small courtyard behind our three-story building. Or, when the heat drove us back inside, we'd visit each other's apartments, which was simple too, as he lived in the apartment above mine. We spent most of the time in his bedroom, since I shared mine with Lise and while Gustav was younger than me, neither of us felt like playing with my four year-old sister.

While we'd play, Gustav would sometimes without warning just stand up and pull his shorts down, effectively mooning me, which always cracked both of us up. We never pushed anything into our bums, neither our own or the other's, however. It was strictly watch and not touch, which was fine with me. I had compared my stiffy to two of my mates from school back home, but I didn't feel the need to find out if Gustav's was really the same size as my own. All we ever did was pee over cross in the bathroom to save time when one of us had to go in the middle of a game.

I turned nine while we lived at the base and my only guest for my birthday party was Gustav. My father invited some of the instructors from the army but they were grownups and thus didn't really count. They didn't even bring any gifts for me, only wished me a happy birthday before they began to discuss army stuff I didn't bother listen in on. They stopped the discussion briefly when mum entered the lounge with my cake and they sang for me along with her.

***

One morning, shortly after my birthday, I parted with Gustav after we got back from the swimming pool. He went up the stairs to his apartment to do the same as I was about to, take a shower to properly wash the stench of chlorine off our bodies. I had only just shut the door after entering the apartment when the ceiling fell down on top of me and I got knocked out. When I woke my head felt like exploding and I couldn't hear anything but loud ringing making my head ache even worse. It was really hard to see and even breathing was made difficult by the cloud of dust that surrounded me.

I moaned loudly when I noticed the pain from my body, everything seemed to hurt. My left foot hurt more than anything when I tried to move it. The pain that shot out from it made my headache seem like nothing at all in comparison. The headache got worse when I hit the back of my head on something hard not five centimetres [2 inch] above it. It made my eyes tear and I couldn't help but sob. I knew crying wasn't supposed to be something big boys do, but I didn't feel like such a big boy just then.

My foot hurt and I couldn't even have a look at it to see what was wrong with it. It felt like something was pinning it against the cold concrete floor though I had no way of telling what it was. To my great relief I could at least move my toes inside the sneaker I was wearing so I knew nothing could be broken.

The dust slowly settled and it allowed me to have a careful look around at my surroundings. It wasn't uplifting, I found myself literally covered in rubble that could only be what once had been the ceiling of the lounge.

It was also the floor of Gustav's apartment!

"Gustav!" I shouted out and forgetting all about the now very low ceiling I once again hit the back of my head on it when I quickly raised my head from the floor.

"Oooow," I moaned out from pain just when the world once again faded to black.

***

I don't know how long it was before I woke again, but I was shivering from the cold. It had to be late in the evening, maybe even night by then and I felt colder than ever before. Every part of me shook, except for my left foot that was still stuck and my ankle throbbed from pain. I moaned quite loudly again when my brain registered the pain.

"Hush! I heard something. Are there anyone here?" I heard a voice call out.

"HELP ME! Over here," I yelled as loudly as I could while I prayed to the Gods that whomever was out there would not only hear me but also turn out to be friendly.

It wasn't long before I could hear them approach where I was, it sounded as if they were walking on gravel, which I thought was strange since the street outside the apartment building had been made from concrete slabs and always kept nice and tidy.

"Hey? Shout out again," I heard.

"I'm here! Right next to you." I said quite loudly.

"Sir! There's a survivor here. It sounds like a woman! Can we keep her?" I could hear the voice much better by then. It didn't sound like anyone I knew, but it could have been one of the soldiers on base. There were by far too many for me to know all of their voices.

Wait a minute! He asked if they could keep me, if I was a woman, but I'm not.

"Are you absolutely sure it's a woman?" I heard another voice ask.

"No, Sir. But it sounded like one. Hey, miss, talk to us, where are you?"

I didn't respond. It was too weird they seemed so interested in women. The soldier asked me to talk again a couple of times and when I didn't, the officer seemed to grow impatient.

"You must have dreamt someone was here. If there ever were anyone here, they couldn't possibly have survived the shelling of the houses."

"Sir!, I'm positive I heard a voice from the rubble. And it was female, a young girl from the sound of it."

"I'm not a bloody girl!" I spat out before I realized my mistake and kept quiet again.

"Hear that, Sir? There is someone here."

"Yes. I also heard him tell us he isn't a girl. Where are you, boy? Tell me this instant or there will be dire consequences when we find you. We're not leaving until we locate you."

The angry voice of the officer finally made me shut up. They clearly weren't friendly, most likely they had something to do with the destruction of the building I had been living in. Even though they came very close, they never found me and eventually the soldiers moved on. It took hours before things quieted down around me. The searchers had left the area, but I kept hearing noises from trucks and more rarely the low-pitched rumbling and squeaking from drive-belted vehicles passing through.

All of a sudden the last sound had died out, leaving behind an eerie silence only broken by the slight noise from my own breathing. Though the base I lived on was a remote base situated quite far into the desert, it had never been this silent before. You may think a desert is devoid of anything alive, much as I had thought, but the base was built next to a large oasis. It was quite normal to be able to hear noises from animals quenching their thirst in the near arid water in the evening or birds singing. But there was nothing to be heard.

Only the slightly raspy sound of air that moved through my somewhat blocked nostrils. My mouth was dry, it felt even drier than the sandy desert and I couldn't help but think it had been a mistake not to let the soldiers help me.

***

I was about ready to give up and die, when I heard a noise. It sounded like someone trying to move silently but doing a really bad job of it. I kept silent and tried to breathe even quieter than before. It could have been a predator out there, a hyena maybe.

More likely it was more soldiers from the seemingly quite large army that had driven by not so many hours ago. It had to be the soldiers, belonging to that army, who had bombed or more likely used artillery on the base and had caused my building to tumble down on top of me. I couldn't do anything but lay there in my quite small enclosure-like space and try to pick up more of the sounds from outside.

There it is again. It's undoubtedly someone walking. It isn't a hyena either. Not unless it's one that has learned how to talk.

"Nikolaj, why are you making so much fucking noise?"

"Relax. They're far away by now. We're the only ones here now. Alive anyway."

Nikolaj! And the other is unmistakably Bertram. I wonder where Mikkel is then.

The teens wouldn't exactly have been my first choice of saviours, but I was out of options. If those idiots wouldn't help me, I'd die. I was already feeling the effects of dehydration, I had experienced some of it before, just when I moved to the base with my family and hadn't been used to drinking upwards five litres [1.3 gallon] of water per day. What I had felt like back then was nothing compared to what I felt when I was trapped under the low ceiling however.

"Bertram! Nikolaj! Help me!" I tried to call out. My voice was weak though, it wasn't more than a loud whisper.

"What was that?" I heard Bertram ask.

"What? I didn't hear anything."

"I'm sure I heard something."

"Bertram!" I wailed with a force I didn't know I still possessed.

"There, tell me you heard that. If not I'm either going mad or you're deafer than my grandma."

"I heard it. Who's there?"

"It's me, Søren! Help me," I croaked. The wail from before had sucked out most of my strength.

"It's the little bugger. Is this the street where the top brass lived?"

"Yes, that's why I wanted to come here. There's got to be something of value around. Something the motherfuckers haven't seen."

"Well, there's someone here, though I can't see any real value in him. He's good for nothing. Let's move on, I'm still thirsty and we're down to the last three litres [0.8 gallon] of Coke."

"Wait, we can't just leave him here. He'll die!"

"Like the rest of the hundreds of other people here. Including Mikkel. What's one more?"

"I'm not leaving him behind. Hey, where are you, Søren?"

"Here. Under this, uh…"

"Fuck, he's under all of the debris. We'll never get him out. We'll only die trying. Come on, let's go."

"You can go, Bertram. I'm going to do what I can to get him out. He's not dead yet and I'm not walking away from him. I'd never be able to sleep at night if I did."

"Fucking wanker. I always knew you fancy him. Okay then. Let's see what we can do. He better be worth it though."

"I don't fancy him! But he is worth it! Hey, don't drink anymore now. He's probably in much worse shape than we are."

"Gods! Okay. But he's not getting all of the Coke. You saw what they did to the supermarket. All the beers, sodas and water were gone. Like everything else."

"Most everything else. They left behind the emergency crackers. They taste like shit and dries out your mouth, but they can save us. "

"I'm not eating even one more of those fucking things. They're like made from sawdust."

"I hope we won't have to, but when it's the only thing we have to eat I'm sure you'll change your mind."

"Not likely. Hey, I think we can get him out if we can get some of the crap out from under here. You still alive in there?"

"Yes! Please, get me out of here," I said and gasped from the effort it took to talk.

"Hang on to your knickers, we'll get you out. It might take a while though. Don't fucking die before we get you out or I'll kick you in the balls."

"So funny. Like I'd care after I've died." I don't know how I found the strength to be so witty at a time like that.

"Well, I just might kick you while you're still trapped. If we ever get down there. Shit, there are so many bloody pieces of concrete to move. It'll probably take us much of the night."

I wanted to cry from hearing Bertram's guestimate, but I knew I'd never hear the end of it if I did. Bertram and Nikolaj hadn't been very nice to me at all, though Mikkel had seemed to be the instigator of the more humiliating things they had me do. I was kind of happy they were willing to risk their own lives trying to dig me out, though I was too exhausted to be really appreciative of their efforts though.

It didn't take them the rest of the night to get me out of the basement covered by the rubble of my building, if it had I'm quite sure I would've earned myself a swift kick to my small nuts. It seemed to be just in the nick of time when I felt an open bottle of Coca-Cola gently placed at my mouth. I tried to drink it too quickly, the bubbles shot back out through my nose still I managed to drink about a third of the 1½ litre [0.4 gallon] plastic bottle in one go. It wasn't icy cold, but at the time I couldn't care less. It was liquid and it contained sugar. It boosted my morale instantly, even though my foot was too badly hurt for me to walk.

"I told you he'd be useless. Now we have to carry him."

"Bertram, I'll carry him myself if only you'll shut up. We need to find water, go look for a house that's slightly taller than half a metre [2 feet] like this one."

I looked at what had once been a three-story house. The pile of debris was undoubtedly higher than Nikolaj had said but not by much. It made me wonder how I had been able to survive.

Why me? Why was I picked out to be the one to survive? Why not Gustav or someone else?

I hadn't seen Gustav's body, but knew it had to be somewhere underneath or perhaps inside the pile of debris that had once been our home. I was in a state of shock and couldn't think straight enough to be able to mourn for the loss of my only friend. Maybe it was for the best as it already required some divine intervention if I was to survive to the end of the day that was only just about to begin.

The once so busy base had been turned into a wasteland by the full-scale attack. I wondered how anyone had been able to attack it and walk away as the winner. Most of the instructors stationed at the base had been veterans from two past wars or major conflicts as my father would have called them. Some had even been in a war 30 years prior. The soldiers they had trained weren't exactly recruits either. I dared to ask Nikolaj why our fathers hadn't been able to repel the attack.

"They used artillery grenades first, then they attacked the outer perimeter, they came from out of the blue. We wanted to help defend the base but the soldiers told us to find somewhere to hide. Mikkel," Nikolaj's voice wavered, "Mikkel didn't want to run and hide. He carried ammunition boxes to the soldiers. I saw him run to one fox hole and give them a box then run to another with three boxes. I think one of the boxes was struck by an incendiary bullet or something as there was a big explosion and he…"

Nikolaj choked back a sob before carrying on.

"He was no longer there. One second he was running and the next… there was just a smoking hole in the ground."

I felt sorry for Nikolaj. Yet, I wasn't entirely sorry for Mikkel's death. I didn't dare say that though since I was hanging on to Nikolaj's neck while he piggybacked me.

"I'm sorry," was all I quietly said.

"Me too."

***

He walked slowly but still faster than I had thought possible. I wondered where we were headed, this part of the base was one I had never seen before. The MPs and the tall fence was gone though. Nikolaj told me there was a reservoir hidden somewhere in here, underground and he hoped the motherfuckers hadn't discovered the entrance to it. The motherfuckers he was referring to now had to be the soldiers of the Liberal Army of Vengeance, those who had attacked the base, though it was hard to tell. He called most anyone he didn't like a motherfucker. Yes, he had called me a motherfucker too. But apparently I wasn't one anymore.

Bertram came running back to us and told us the reservoir had been shelled, yet looked to be okay. The promise of clean drinking water put more speed into Nikolaj and he nearly ran off with me clinging desperately to his back. The bumpy ride made my foot hurt even worse and when I couldn't hold back a yell from pain he slowed right down again. It took us a bit longer to reach the entrance, Bertram had already went inside. Nikolaj sat me down next to the basin and was about to stick his entire head into the pool of water when Bertram cried out to him.

"No! Don't!"

I don't know if Nikolaj didn't hear the warning or chose to ignore it, he just put his head fully in and I could see him swallow large mouthfuls of the water. It was so tempting to do the same, I could tell the water was nice and cool, but Bertram's frantically pulling at Nikolaj to get him back out of the water made me hesitate. I'm glad I did as Nikolaj's body bucked while he puked the water back out directly into the basin.

It was only then I noticed the smell in the air inside the room. It was like when I went with Gustav to the swimming pool, only much, much worse. When Nikolaj had finally finished puking his guts out we discovered the cause of the smell. The large canisters holding the supply of chlorine used to treat the water to make it safe to drink had been hit by shell fragments. Most of what had been inside the canisters had gotten into the water reservoir seriously polluting what had been the only supply of drinking water within miles of us.

"There's absolutely no fucking way we can do anything to make this safe to drink. I wouldn't even bathe in it," Bertram said angrily.

Almost on cue, Nikolaj started scratching his cheek. Incisively scratching it.

"It burns!" He screamed as he hysterically scratched with the fingers of one hand and wiped his eyes with the other.

"Quick, the Coke, Bertram! We need to use some of it to clean his face."

Bertram seemed to consider it, we were down to one full bottle and the other was about half full. Or half empty is perhaps the better way to put it. I had to ask again before he handed me the half empty one. I used most of it to rinse off Nikolaj's face which seemed to help. I didn't much like the fierce redness in Nikolaj's face especially his eyes looked really bad. I made Nikolaj drink the rest of the Coke, about 2 dl of it. He threw it back up instantly. I could tell by the way Bertram glared at me that he thought it was a waste of good Coke.

Nikolaj was in no shape to carry me any longer and Bertram didn't offer to do the honours. He just left us sitting there next to the useless water taking the full bottle of Coke with him. When it became obvious he wasn't coming back Nikolaj and I climbed up the stairs into the heat of the day. It was much easier to breathe there even though the heat forced us back to sit in the shade on the stairs.

"We're stuck here, Nikolaj. If Bertram doesn't come back, we'll both die here," I said sadly.

"No! I know I am dying. It, the water… It did something to my throat. It burns on the inside. All the way to my stomach. Let me look at your foot, I should have done that before we left your house. What was left of it anyway. If I can fix your foot, you might still have a chance. Go to the oasis, see if there's any water there. Don't drink it! Fill the Coke bottle with water, then squeeze it into your arse."

It must have shown on my face what I thought about that idea. Never had I heard of something so bizarre. The poor teen must have gone mad from the pain he was obviously suffering.

"I bloody mean it! Put the fucking water in your arse. It'll make your body absorb the water, without it going into your stomach. If you drink it and the water is dirty, it'll make you sick. By putting it in your arse, your body will suck it right up and you won't get sick. My dad told me that once. He learnt it in basic training. From your father actually."

I could hear Nikolaj had more trouble speaking now. It must have really hurt. It hurt when he pulled off my sneaker too, but it was worse when he pulled off my bloodied sock. I only had one quick look at my foot before I had to look away again.

That's not my foot. It's someone else's. It would have to hurt me far more than it is if it really was mine.

No matter what I tried to tell myself it still hurt enough to make me cry out loudly while Nikolaj wrapped it into a bandage made from his shirt. He had torn it and used strips of the cloth to secure my ankle. It only made it hurt much worse but at least it stopped the bleeding.

"Wait until the sun sets before you go to the oasis. Look out for wild animals. They can smell the blood from afar. You will be dinner. In their eyes easy dinner. I'm sorry. I can't help more."

"No, Nikolaj. Don't be sorry. Thank you! You've given me a chance to make it. I only wish I could do something to help you."

"Just… Hold my hand. Please. The stuff… We made you do… It was wrong. I'm sorry for… All of it!"

***

I held Nikolaj's hand for the longest time. I held it right until it got cold. The sun had started to set and Nikolaj had quietly passed away. I wept when I took the empty Coke bottle and the bag of crackers and set off in a painful limp towards the oasis and the water hole within. My foot hurt with every step I took, yet somehow I managed to get to the water. There weren't any animals around, though I could hear hyenas fighting each other somewhere back at the base. I didn't want to think of what it was they were fighting over.

Instead I concentrated on the shallow water hole. The water in it looked filthy even in the rapidly weakening light. It didn't smell very nice either. I would've wished the Coke bottle hadn't been transparent as then I wouldn't have been able to see what the water inside of it looked like.

There are so many bits of… something in there. It's all discoloured too.

Nikolaj had told me to put the water inside my rear. My arse as he had called it. It wasn't nearly as easy to do as he had made it sound. My cargo shorts and underwear were of course in the way and it hurt when I gingerly pulled both down and off my left leg. It was harder to get them over my only sneaker, but I didn't want to remove it in case I had to quickly move away from the water hole. The large bottle had gotten slippery from being submerged into the nasty water and I had to use my underwear to wipe it down.

I didn't want the bits swimming around in the water inside my body, not even if it meant they'd only get into my rear end. My underwear had to make do for a simple filter, at least it would keep the larger bits from going inside of me. I can't really explain what it felt like to lie on my back keeping my legs up and try to insert the underwear-covered end of a hard plastic Coke bottle into my butt hole.

I was too busy concentrating on the task at hand, namely to somehow get the water, by then quickly pouring out of the bottle onto my privates and down my rear end, to go inside of me instead. The point of entry, normally a strict exit only, was difficult to find without being able to see. Well, I knew at least the general location of my butthole, but what I was trying to do was a darn sight harder than what I usually did with my fingers back there.

Wiping my bum or taking care of an itch with a finger none too gently pushed a bit of the way inside the flexy hole was so much easier than pretending to be a space station about to have a shuttle dock with it. Still I did it as quickly as I could, though the lukewarm water running down my crack felt somewhat refreshing. It was more important to get it inside than washing away the sand and probably small tiny fragments of concrete that had covered every inch of my body. Including the aforementioned crack between my buttocks.

My first try wasn't very successful, though eventually I did get the bottle lined up in the proper angle to have it form a seal between my skin and the hard plastic bottle opening but when I squeezed the bottle it was mostly air I pushed into my butt. I farted it back out while I refilled the bottle. The second try went far better since I had figured out how to hold the bottle. The sensation of water filling my butt was strange, but I endured it. As a lot of the water had managed to escape the bottle before I had gotten it lined up perfectly, I filled it a third time.

This time I had nearly perfected the operation from start to finish, most of the water inside the bottle ended up where it was supposed to. I was happy, my butt was nearly bursting from the all-important liquid inside of it. All I had to do was wait for my body to absorb it.

***

I have to go! Like right now!

It was only five minutes after I had put the water inside of my bum and apparently my bum wasn't too happy with the abnormal things I had done to it. A cramp worse than I had ever experienced before wrecked my guts and I had to crawl behind a small bush to let out all the water I had gone through so much trouble squirting into my bum. The near explosive way it rushed out of me left me winded and I was about to give up on the idea of using my butt to drink water.

Of course! A butt is for expelling stuff, not to put things into. What a crazy idea. I'll just have to take my chances and drink the darn water. Even if it smells weird. I need water but it's no use putting it in the butt, I have to drink it. Even if it looks so disgusting! It'll keep me alive, that's what I need to remember. The animals who drink from it haven't gotten sick. It has to be okay.

I crawled back to the edge of the shallow water hole and refilled the bottle with the dirty foul smelling water. This time I used my underwear as a filter while filling the bottle and it had kept the water mostly clear. Still, there were things in the water. Small, almost microscopic bits and pieces of who knows what. It sure didn't look anything like the slightly chlorinated clear water coming out of the faucets back home.

But there's no nice cool water coming out of the faucets now, is there? No, because all of the fucking base has been destroyed, drink the water, you nutter. You know you have to drink, right? You'll die if you don't! Or maybe you want to die? Is that why you won't drink?

I closed my eyes and took a big swig from the bottle. Every part of me wanted to spit it back out, the lukewarm water tasted awful. Absolutely horrid. I swallowed it though and coughed so violently I nearly dropped the bottle. I forced myself to drink the entire 1½ litres [0.4 gallon] of the foul water, and set up to refill the bottle again. 1½ litres wouldn't be enough to rehydrate my body. That much I knew from my previous experience of being dehydrated.

Back then it wasn't nearly as bad as it is now either. And I didn't feel well until the day after.

My stomach gurgled when I refilled the bottle, but I did my best to ignore it. The aftertaste of the foul water wasn't as easy to ignore but I didn't have a piece of bubble gum to chew on.

I'd even brush my teeth if I had my toothbrush and toothpaste here. Mum wouldn't have to remind me to brush my teeth. Not tonight.

The gurgling got worse and I felt like I had to fart. Seriously fart. After a quick look around to see if I was really alone, I tried to let one go.

Much too late I realized it wasn't just trapped gas that tried to escape my body. I crawled as quickly as I could away from the bank of the water hole, all the while my rear end sputtered a mixture of gas and extremely runny poo out.

"Oh Gods!" I cried out when my stomach cramped yet again, then another explosion inside of me sent more of the foul water out of my mouth. It tasted about the same coming back up as it had done going in.

***

The nasty case of diarrhoea left me far more weakened than before I had drank the foul water. The cramps carried on for another two hours before they finally left my body shaking from the experience.

"Fuuuuuck," I moaned softly.

I didn't know what the word meant then, but I knew it was a cuss word and it felt like an appropriate time for using one. It was another half hour before I got up from where I had managed to crawl to. The stench from the runny stuff was enough to drive me away when I had regained just a tiny bit of strength. I looked at the water hole, then the back of my legs and back at the water hole again. I waded into the water and washed away all traces of what had taken place around my rear end. I was still thirsty however and I still had the Cola bottle.

Maybe it's time to trust what my father taught Nikolaj's father. That a butt can be used for drinking water your mouth can't.

It didn't feel particularly nice to squirt water into my butt again, it quite frankly felt extremely abused from having to expel the runny stuff for so long. Still, I spent the rest of the night squirting water into it, only very little at a time, I didn't want to overdo it like I had done the first time.

It kept me alive throughout the night and no wild animals ever got anywhere near to the waterhole.

No wonder, nobody would want to get anywhere near me the way I stink now.

It left me in a dilemma though. I only had the one bottle and the water it could hold would only last for so long and the dry crackers Nikolaj had stolen from the shop at the base were anything but nice to eat. They tasted like sawdust and left me wishing I had never eaten the one I'd managed to get down.

The base was the only place I knew, and apart from the waterhole, there was 150km [c. 90 miles] of desert to traverse if I somehow managed to figure out which way was the proper and shortest out of it. If I went in any other direction, I might have to walk for thousands of kilometres before the desert would end. I knew I couldn't stay at the waterhole though. Although there was water, there was absolutely nothing to eat. And with the sun rising I knew I had to find shade soon or I'd end up with one serious sunburn.

Well, I can at least push some water inside my butt one last time, refill the bottle and then go back to the base. I just may find something that'll be help me get out of here.

I did that, but before I left the waterhole I put my shorts back on. My underwear were all kinds of dirty and very wet so I didn't put them on but carried them with me along with the bottle and the crackers.

I have to find some shade so I can sleep for a few hours before searching for stuff. Maybe then things will be better.

I wasn't so naive that I thought it was just a bad dream that I'd wake up from, possibly screaming and scaring the crap out of my sister before my mum would enter our shared bedroom to calm us both. No, I was far too aware of it being very real, though I did wish for it being nothing but a nightmare.

The base looked even worse than I remembered it to be. Few buildings had managed to survive the assault and bore witness with their scars of the assault on the base. I saw a multitude of holes from bullets and much larger ordnance everywhere I looked. I didn't expect to find anyone still alive, except for Bertram perhaps, and wasn't surprised to find myself very much alone there. The hyenas that had made such a ruckus throughout the night were nowhere to be seen either. The sun had forced them to leave, to run off to wherever hyenas go during the day.

I could easily tell where they had been feasting on dead soldiers but I stayed well away from the remnants and did what I could not to look too much at them. I didn't want too many details being able to haunt my dreams when I slept. It was by far better to only think of the people I saw as simply having died instead of knowing exactly what had happened to them. I went into the first building that didn't look as it would collapse at the first chance it got.

I couldn't close the entrance door to the building as it simply wasn't there anymore, but I found a room with the door intact on the second floor. The windows had been blown out, but it only allowed the slight breeze in. Without air-conditioning I would've had to open the windows wide anyhow. With the door shut and a chair wedged in under the door handle, I was ready to go to sleep. I had to sleep on the floor but at least I was safe for a good few hours. It still took me a long time before I could finally give in to the exhaustion.

Chapter 3

Later, after having rested for hours I explored the base for anything that would help me get to safety. I brought everything I found and that I could carry back to the derelict office building. I only stopped when my thirst got too strong to ignore. The coke bottle was already empty, the water inside it had gone into my butt before I set off pillaging and I had to once again walk the short distance to the waterhole. This time I took a 10 litre [2.6 gallon] plastic jug and three 1½ litre bottles with me.

The empty containers had been easy to bring, but full of the nasty water they were quite too heavy for me to take back to the office building in one go. I was about to give up on jug, it was just so heavy and unmanageable with only one handle. I got it as far as the stairs going up to the second floor and left it there.

I can fill the bottles from the jug here. There's just no way I'll get it up all the stairs.

***

I spent another two days at the base, each day prowling for things. The sawdust crackers were long gone on the third day and my butt was seriously fed up with its unusual job of keeping my thirst at bay. It itched! The skin around my hole felt as if it was on fire and the insides of my bum wasn't much better. I tried not to scratch, but more often than not I found one of my fingers buried to the hilt into the opening scratching at what it could reach. If I had been able to, I probably would've stuck my hand right inside to reach the itchy places even deeper inside of me.

While I had been on my small scavenging trips I had cheered whenever I found something and happily brought it back. When I took inventory of the stuff I had piled up in the office, I was much less enthusiastic about it all.

It's junk! All of it. Like that bag of buttons. I don't even have a shirt they'd fit in, why would I think I'd ever need hundreds of stupid olive-coloured buttons? Even if I had an army shirt, I've no needle or thread.

There was absolutely nothing in the small pile I could eat. While some of it could have been used to make a toy, I really didn't feel like playing with toys. I had too many things to worry about, like the pained rumble from my stomach and the ever present itch in my butt. And that was just my immediate problems. How to survive in the long run was something I'd have to worry about later.

And all I have is this rubbish!

The hopelessness I felt fuelled my anger and I wasted precious energy kicking at the nearest piece of junk, an old metal spray paint can that I no longer knew why I had bothered lugging up to the second floor of the building in the first place. I kicked it so hard it went flying out one of the windows. My action sent me to the floor clutching my bad foot while I screamed out my pain and anger. I didn't hear the outcry from down below when the empty can struck a guy on the back of his head.

It was only later when the story of how I was rescued from the base was told over and over again that I learned how the can nearly took off the unfortunate man's head. It was most likely exaggerated like most of the other stories I was told, but at nine years of age, it sounded like a true story to me.

***

I was too busy crying to notice the men before they were all inside the very room I was in. The three men brandished long curved knives, but as soon as they realized I wasn't a threat, at least not one bigger than they could manage without the use of a knife, they put them away. Their appearance was enough to scare me to silence, they were dressed in black from top to toe. Even their faces were covered, only a narrow gap allowed me to see their brown eyes.

They didn't say anything to me, just had a quick look around and then one of them picked me up and carried me downstairs, completely ignoring my objections. The man carrying me took me outside and walked quickly away from the base. He walked for about two kilometres [1¼ mile], never slowing, never shifting me around in his arms and he sat me down on the lap of an old woman. Only to turn and start walking back to the base.

The woman spoke to me, but I couldn't understand what she said nor did she understand the language I spoke. She could however see I wasn't in the best condition. She rearranged me her on lap, made me sit sideways and lean back on one of her arms. She held me like I was some small baby, something I would normally have done anything to prevent from happening. Another woman came with a large leather pouch and aimed its spout at me. Before I knew what was happening, a thin and quite powerful jet from the spout hit me in the face.

I sputtered at first and tried to move my head away, but the woman holding me used her hand to hold my head fixed and forced me to open my mouth. I was about to scream in outrage when the coldest and cleanest water I've ever experienced in all of my nine years of living spurted right into my mouth. I was only allowed to swallow three times before the woman holding the pouch stopped the water from flowing.

"More!" I croaked and reached for the spout.

The woman holding me said something that made the other laugh. She turned and put the pouch down, much to my regret, then faced me again and stroked her hand over my face. The water that had missed my mouth was wiped over my cheek as she stroked it tenderly, like my mother used to do. When she moved her hand away, she gasped and said something that made the one holding me look at my cheek. She gasped too.

Things happened quickly then, apparently they had finally noticed my body odour or something since they soon had me standing in a small basin doing what I could to protect my boy parts from their hands washing my body. I tried to explain that I knew how to wash myself, that I didn't want them to wash me, certainly not down there, but either they didn't understand or they simply ignored me. My worm and small nuts were as thoroughly washed as every other part of my body while the older woman held my hands on my back.

It was nearly worse when I was turned around and forced to bend over while the younger of the women washed my rear end. The sight of it made the woman gasp and loudly say something that made the other one have a look at it too. The soapy water had made my hole itch and I reached back to give it a good scratch, not caring that the two women had a first class view of what I was doing. I didn't get to scratch long though, before a hand grabbed hold of my wrist and forced me to stop.

They examined my bottom for a time after they washed away the soap. I was lifted out of the basin and placed on a small rug before I was vigorously wiped down by the older woman. The other had gone and returned with a small pot of something I didn't know what was. Whatever it was, it made me all messy between my buttocks when she carefully used a finger to smear it all over the rawness back there. Her finger reached further into my bum than my own had been able to and though it was extremely strange to have someone I didn't know do something like that to me, it did feel soothing.

At least it did after she had finished transferring the greasy stuff from the pot into my butt. It felt like I had as much of it inside of me as when I had squirted water into it. It still itched some though and when I tried to scratch myself the older woman slapped my fingers away.

"Ow," I said and put my fingers in my mouth to ease the pain.

She just wagged a finger in front of me while she smiled at me.

***

It wasn't long until they realized I had busted my foot. Well, it wasn't really the foot itself, but a bone just beneath the ankle. I found that out in the most hurtful way while the two women examined it. I don't think they were purposely trying to make it more hurtful, on the other hand, they paid no mind to my fussing and crying as they first examined then wrapped up my foot and ankle as tightly as they could. When they finally released me, I found that I could walk more easily though I couldn't put too much weight on my left foot before it would hurt me.

They put me in a white tunic and nothing else after I had walked around for a bit testing what I was able to do with my foot and ankle now wrapped up. I wasn't too bothered about not wearing my shorts or underwear as when I stood, the tunic reached all the way down to my feet. The loose outfit was much better than my own clothes had been, though my father would probably have strongly disapproved, had he seen me like that.

It makes me look like a Bedouin. And he doesn't like them. Maybe a Bedouin woman tried to stick her finger in his butt and he didn't like that?

I can't say I had liked it much either, the stuff she had put in my butt was by now slowly seeping out of it, and while I could pinch my hole tightly shut and stop it from coming out, it just ached too much to keep doing it. They had sat me in the shade of one of their tents and left me alone for two seconds when I once again had my finger buried deep inside of the irritated opening. When they returned with the pouch full of the delicious water, I got more than just a slap across my fingers for my crime.

The older one of them simply sat down and had me lay over her lap while she delivered one stinging slap after another onto my bum cheeks. She hit harder than my father had done when he disciplined me for stealing his beers. And for a longer time too. The younger woman had left and returned with a very long white scarf-like cloth. They worked together while they wrapped my midsection up in it, leaving me as well-padded as any baby would have been.

It was so tightly wrapped that I couldn't possibly get my finger anywhere near my butt hole. Not that I could feel the itching sensation from it anymore, the pain from my buttocks far outdid what little annoyance my hole had caused. Duly subdued I was allowed more of the water. The women sat and talked while I was given a small mouthful of water every three or four minutes. I tore into the large piece of bread and a small but very spicy piece of meat I was offered after about an hour.

***

Two hours after I had been wrapped up I could feel the effects of all the delicious water they had been squirting into my mouth. They drank from the pouch in the same way, squirting it from a distance into their mouths, never putting their lips on the spout. I didn't understand why, though it was a fun way to drink. But, all that water I had been drinking wanted to come back out!

"Madam? Uh, Miss? Sorry?" I tried to politely interrupt their conversation.

They only carried on talking like I wasn't there.

I waited for a bit, hoped for them to pause if only for a second so I could make myself heard. However, as soon as the machinegun-like sounds from one stopped, the other took over. Often before the first had completely finished. My bladder didn't like waiting. The cloth they had tied so tightly around me seemed to compress things down there. It felt as if my bladder was about to explode. My fidgeting on the older woman's lap only caused her to hold me tighter.

One way or another I'll have to pee soon. My bladder feels like overflowing. It really hurts.

I was just a kid however and like most adults I knew at the time, the two women completely ignored me. I was somewhat used to that.

"Kids are to be seen. Not heard!"

I could almost hear and see my father when I thought of what he had once told me. I had wanted him to come to the small courtyard at the back of our house and watch what I had taught myself to do with my scooter. Unfortunately he was in the middle of a meeting with a couple of the officers under his command.

I never did get a chance to show him. And with my foot all banged up, I won't be able to show him now.

I sat and listened to the guttural sounds the two women exchanged. It didn't sound like a language to me, but with the amount of waving their hands about and tongue clicks, it was an important conversation. My problems with the imminent breaching of the dam inside my body was something I had to deal with on my own. I lasted another hour, don't ask me how, as the women kept pouring more water into my mouth even when I tried to deny it.

The water level inside my body got so high I felt my eyes start to tear up from it. It was either that or the humiliating and certain knowledge of the dam going to burst any second.

I can't hold it any longer. I have to pee. Just a bit. Only one drop. I just need to let a little tiny bit out to ease up on the pressure.

I almost didn't have time to finish the thought before the dam burst. The tiny itty bitty drop I had planned to let out, grew ever larger. My bladder was simply so full I couldn't stop once I got started. When I realized I had lost all control, water started pouring out of my eyes too. I wept feeling so ashamed of sitting on this old woman's lap peeing all over her. I could feel the warmth from my pee as it spread into the cotton of the cloth wrapped around me. It started small, but quickly felt like it was saturating not only the front but also the back of it.

The older woman tried to comfort me when I started crying, probably not understanding what I was in the middle of. She carried on talking to the younger woman, while she patted me on my shoulder and stroked my cheek. She soon realized what was going on, when my pee worked itself to the outer layers of the cloth they had so meticulously wrapped me in.

With a surprised sound she abruptly stood and held me out at arms length as my pee dripped from the cloth onto the sand below me. The younger woman giggled, but was sent away with an angry tone of voice by the older woman. She soon returned with the small basin and another long cloth. They tried to calm me down while they peeled off the very wet cloth from my pelvis, but I couldn't stop crying. It wasn't only because of having wet myself I cried, though that in itself was bad enough, the way they fussed over me while they cleaned me and wrapped me again, reminded me so much of my mother having done that.

I was still only a nine years old boy who had experienced so much in the past few days. A small boy who had lost so much and only wanted to be with his family again. It took me a long time to work out enough of my sorrow to stop crying. At least for a while. There'd be more crying, though for the time being I was all cried out. I fell asleep shortly after, sitting on the lap of the old woman while she stroked my hair.

***

I only woke when the men returned from the base. The sun had begun it's descend, the few clouds in the sky turning from white to red as it got increasingly darker around me. A big fire was built by the women, of which there were three, I just hadn't seen the last one until then. The oldest of them kept me on her lap the entire time, only times I wasn't was when I'd go "psssh" which we had agreed to be the term for me needing a wee. She would walk with me though, she'd never let me go alone.

The lack of a mutual language greatly annoyed the oldest man, apparently the leader of the small Bedouin gang as I thought of them at the time. I was to start a crash course of learning to speak Bedouin and I could only learn it too slowly. Starting that evening sitting close enough to the fire to enjoy the heat, but not close enough to it to get burnt or get smoke in our eyes, the old woman taught me what the things in our vicinity was called. I had to be told a lot of times, the sounds of their words were so different and the word for something as simple as sand or fire was a series of words.

And if I change the position of the words they'll get a total different meaning.

I never learnt to speak Bedouin fluently, and while they may have a different name for their language, that was all I ever called it; Bedouin. It was far easier to understand what they told me, though they had to talk slowly and as clearly as they could. The people who had rescued me from certain death at the base turned out to be relatives. One big, though not extremely happy, family. The leader was the husband of the old woman and at first it puzzled me why a man would marry a woman so much older than himself. I was very surprised to hear that she actually was two years younger than him!

Abiha, the younger woman who had been helping bathing me that first day and delightedly did just that every day after, much to my shame, was the younger sister of the oldest, but not that old, woman. Everyone called her Um, so I did too. She seemed to like that. Her husband, the leader was Baba. He didn't like me calling him that though. I never learned his real name, I genuinely thought it was Baba, but found out later it was just their word for father. Um and Baba had two sons, the other men of the band, Farooq and Hameed. Farooq, the older of the sons, was married to Taslima.

Taslima mostly stayed to herself, something I found strange at first. She'd never talk to me, only to Farooq or Baba and the two women. I mostly talked to Abiha and Um, learning their language and little by little I learned some of their customs too. They didn't pray to the 12 Gods and while I wasn't such a firm believer myself, it shocked me to find out they worshipped something completely different. I had never heard of someone not worshipping the 12 Gods.

Their religion baffled me, the things they had to do to be good in the eyes of their God made me cringe. There were all kinds of things, like always keeping every part of their bodies clean, though I found that a bit conflicting when all they ever used to wipe after, you know what, doing their business, was a bit of sand held in the palm of their hand. At least they only used their left hand to do so. I got into all kinds of trouble when I forgot and used my right hand for it. I was expected to follow their customs even though I clearly wasn't one of them.

While my parents hadn't been exactly lax when it came to beating me into submission, they had at least mostly only used their words to keep me from doing what I wasn't allowed to. It was only when I did something downright stupid, like stealing my father's beers, it resulted in a sore behind.

"If you won't use your head, I'll have to smack your rear to make you understand."

That was what my father had said back then. But the Bedouins mostly slapped me, and mostly on my rear end like my father, when I did something they didn't approve of. Then I had to find out on my own what it was I had done wrong. Sometimes it took me quite a long time to understand exactly what was expected of me, which made it rather painful to sit in the saddle in front of Abiha when we travelled. Usually it was Um who disciplined me, something she was quite skilled at. She'd make me pull up my tunic and pin me down while she spanked my poor defenceless butt. It was easy to get to as well, once I had learned my butthole wasn't to be scratched.

Travelling was something the Bedouin family did most of the time. Their camels seemed to be able to go on for days on end without water, though the ten of them could almost empty a decent sized waterhole when we finally got to one. I had asked where we were going, a question no one seemed to be able to give a straight answer to. I gave up asking after a while since every time I asked, I got a different answer. I doubt any of them really knew what their final destination was. Travelling was just their way of life I guess.

Though I was only nine and nothing but a small kid, I still had to pull my weight. Having me hitching a hike with the family, though I hadn't actually been asked if I wanted to accompany them, meant one more person to feed and water. I had to help the women prepare food, while the men did all of the good stuff. They went scavenging, hunting and basically everything they wanted to. When I wanted to go with them and stood trembling in front of Baba, he only laughed and left me standing there.

"You must understand, little one, that as long as you're only a child, your place is with us women. That's why I can bathe you. Your spear is still that of a boy. And it will remain that way for several years. Until it turns into a man's spear, you're not going anywhere with the men," Abiha patiently tried to explain.

"What's wrong with my spear?" I knew she was talking about my worm. My penis.

"Nothing's wrong with it. It's just not a man's spear. Not yet."

"What will make it a man's spear?"

I didn't like being treated like some little kid. It was all I could do not to slap Abiha's fingers when she washed me while I stood in the small basin in full view of everyone. She always kept washing my worm until it stiffened and she could easily slide the hood off it and wash where it really tickled me. If any of the men noticed her doing that to me, they'd grin at me. I couldn't understand that grin, it wasn't funny!

"It isn't anything to discuss, child," Um told me. She had overheard my conversation with Abiha.

"Why not?" I asked.

"You're not one of us. You'll never become a man unless you join us."

"But, I am here with you now."

"You are here, but you're not."

How can I both be here and not be here?

I was puzzled. I let her know and asked for an explanation.

"Your body is here. But your spirit isn't. You do not believe in God."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything, child. As long as you don't believe, you can't become a man. Your spear will always be that of a boy's, no matter how large it may grow."

I couldn't get her to explain what was required of my boy spear to turn into a man's spear.

"You will need to believe first. There will be no more talking of this."

The men of the family never got naked when I had a chance to look at their man spears. When I tried to sneak up on Hameed one day to maybe catch a glimpse of the mysterious appendage I so desperately wanted mine to turn into, he quickly got his clothing done up. He easily caught up with me when I ran from him, my limping slowed me down, and he gave me a blistering I'll never forget. Never mind Um's spankings, he carried on really slapping the crap out of my buttocks only stopping when I lost it and peed on him.

***

As it turned out, I was never to really join the tightknit family, nor become one of the believers of their unmerciful God. One day, when I could see wondrous foothills in the distance, Baba and Farooq led me from the camp. I was happy, finally I was with the men of the family and not the women.

When we got closer to the foothills, I could see real mountains behind them. That's also when my happiness abruptly ended.

"Tie his hands," Baba said suddenly.

"Yes, Baba."

Farooq quickly pulled out a length of hemp rope and tied my hands on my back. All the while I asked why I was to be tied up.

"Shut him up."

"What? I don't understand why you're doing this to me. Please, tell me, Baba. You can't… Farooq, what's going on?"

The man didn't answer me, he only grabbed hold of my tunic and ripped a 10 cm [3"] wide strip from the very bottom of it. This he most effectively tied around my head, so tight it hurt. I tried to yell but could only really moan.

"If you don't shut up now, I'll beat you up. Much worse than Hameed did back then," Farooq told me.

That shut me up. The thrashing I had gotten by Hameed was bad. Real bad.

Baba waited until the sun had set before we went the last of the way into a small town just beneath the foothills. He handed me over to a man in a worn suit. In exchange for me he got $20 in gold.

I'm worth no more to him than 6 litres [1.6 gallon] of Coke?

I was shocked. Too shocked to feel sad when the two Bedouins left me with the sleazy man. I was never to see them again, nor be bathed by Abiha.

I had even just started to enjoy that, if only a little tiny bit.

Chapter 4

"Come, my little darling. Let's go inside. I want to have a good look at you. It's a good thing they brought you here now. Later tonight, one of my most important business associates will arrive and spend some time at my house. He'll appreciate sharing his bed with a little cutie like you."

The fat sleazy man dragged me into the farm house. It didn't look like the man's business was doing very well based on the sorry state of his suit. But he didn't care to tell me what it was he did for a living and I had no way of asking since nobody had thought to remove the cloth covering my mouth.

How did he know I was coming? He said it was a good thing I was brought here tonight. Like he was expecting me only didn't know when I'd show up.

"Come, let's undo this nasty rope, you're much too pretty to be wearing such a dreadful thing like this old rope," he said and began untying me. Apparently Farooq knew how to tie knots since the man was struggling to free my hands.

"Why would anyone ever tie up a cute, pretty, no downright beautiful," I couldn't help but smile at his words, even if the words he had chosen to describe me were rather feminine, "… little girl like you in this way?" He finished.

My smile turned into a grimace.

He thinks I'm a girl! But I'm not a bloody girl. I hate girls.

My family came from the northern part of the world, so my skin was fair, a lot fairer than those native to this country. My skin was bronze coloured, though it was only the parts of my body that had been in the sun that had a tan. Most of my body was covered in skin that was nearly pink. Much different from the almost brown skinned people here.

Maybe that's why he's mistaking me for a girl? My hair has grown kind of long too. I wish Abiha would've had cut it for me. Well, isn't he in for a big surprise!

"There, that's much better. Why are you wearing a blue wristwatch? Is it something Farooq stole and gave you? That's not what girls should be wearing, he of all people should know that. No, let me take it off, you can not wear a blue watch, it's something only the nasty boys wear. You're not a dreadful boy. I have a pretty bracelet for you to wear instead of that awful boy's watch. There! That's so much better. I'm going to remove your gag. Don't scream or I'll have to smack you."

I so want to scream! But, at least I'll be able to tell him to give me back my watch, that I'm not a girl but very much a boy.

"Now, take off that tunic, it's ripped and dirty. I have a nice dress for you to wear, one that is exactly your size too. One that'll show off your features, not hide them like a good for nothing, dreadful boy's clothing."

Why is he talking so demeaning about boys? Oh no, what is he going to do when he finds out I'm really a boy? Maybe it's better to pretend I'm a girl for now and run away from him before he finds out I'm a boy?

"Little one? If you're too shy to undress in front of me, you can stay turned away from me while you take off that awful tunic. As long as you won't be shy later. I don't have to see your front."

Won't be shy later? Well, if I don't turn around, he won't be able to tell I'm a boy. But maybe it's better to just tell him now. Sooner or later he will find out I'm a boy. I know I can't hide my worm from him forever. Or maybe I can? I can at least try to pretend I'm a girl! It'll be just like back in the school play. How would a girl behave now?

"Mister, do you promise not to look at me if I get naked?" I asked in the most girly voice I could muster.

Oh shit, that sounded so fake!

"I won't look, I'll only keep you company. Just take off that tunic, I don't know what's gotten into those Bedouins, they know a girl isn't to wear such things," I heard the man say.

I looked over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't looking. He wasn't. With a sigh I pulled the tunic up and over my head, baring first my buttocks and then my back to him. I dropped the tunic on the floor next to me and heard the man gasp.

"What have they done to you? Did they never allow you to bathe? This won't do, we have to get you clean for my associate. Come, let's go to the bathroom so I can…"

He grabbed hold of my shoulder and forcibly turned me to face him. His facial expression changed as well as his tone of voice.

"What's the meaning of this?" He demanded to know.

"Mister. I'm sorry. I'm not a girl," I confessed while doing my best not to cry.

"I can see that. I'm not blind and neither is my associate. Stupid boy! How on Earth were you planning to hide it from us? No, don't tell me, in fact, don't say another word. You're going to the basement, turn around and put your hands on your back. Trying to trick me into thinking you're a sweet girl when you're nothing but a little filthy thieving snivelling boy."

"Mister! I can be a girl. Don't put me in your basement," I said as he tied my hands on my back.

I didn't want to be locked in his basement, I'd do anything to prevent it. Even if it meant pretending to be one of the things I hated most of all, a girl.

"Hah! He'll find out you're nothing but a stinking boy and then he'll kill you and then me. One look at this and he'll know."

He flicked my worm a couple of times with his finger.

"Stop! I know it's there. You don't have to hurt it. I'll hide it from him, I know I can. Please. I can pretend to be a girl for your associate. He'll never find out I'm a boy."

"Are you quite mad?" he asked, but at least he was listening to me.

"No, I mean, you thought I was a girl right?"

"Yes when I only saw you from behind. It's quite obvious you're no girl now. A girl doesn't have something like this."

"Ow!" I gasped when I once again felt the pain from him flicking his finger right at the head of my worm. Even covered inside its hood, it still hurt.

"Nor does a girl have these…"

"No! Don't flick my nuts too! Mister, I get your point. But, if he can't see them, he won't know I'm a boy. I'll make sure he never sees them, I won't undress for bed."

"You're nothing but a stupid boy. Don't you know what a man does to a girl when he shares a bed with one?"

Don't they sleep? Like my sister and I always slept together in the single bed in our bedroom.

I was ridiculed even more when I said that I thought they'd just go to sleep.

"I should've known. With such a little dick, I'm not surprised you've never shared a bed with a girl."

"I have! Every night for like two years I've slept with my sister. After she outgrew her crib she's slept in my bed."

"I'm not talking about a boy sleeping with his little sister at night, you fool. I'm talking about sex!"

Sex? That's what Mikkel was on about too.

"That's fine with me!" I blurted out without thinking.

It wasn't at all fine with me. I had no idea what sex was about, apart from when one boy would stick his spear into another boy. Mikkel had demonstrated it by making me push a thick pen deep into my butthole and it had hurt a lot. I was however willing to do most anything if it meant I wasn't going to end up in another basement. I had nearly died the last time I was in a basement.

"It isnt fine! You don't have a hole for a man to enter. Instead you have that… that thing there."

"Stop hurting it! I know it's there. It won't go away no matter how much you'll flick it."

"So how on Earth would you pretend to be a girl when you don't have the proper parts?"

I had to think quickly. It was hard to remember what the three teens had talked about when it had made no sense to me at the time. It still didn't. I wasn't certain something like that would feel nice at all.

"There are things a girl can do to a boy, or a man, other than take his worm inside her hole, right?"

Ugh, I should've used the proper words. Like cock and pussy. Like the teens taught me. But mum slapped me when I asked her if she had a pussy like Lise. Worm and hole just sounds so… so childish!

"My associate will want to put his dick into a hole. You don't have a hole, only that vile little thing."

I do have a hole. My bumhole. I know a finger fits in it, I've had my own in it. And Abiha put hers in there too. But would a man's spear fit in it? Maybe, but I'd probably die from it, the pen felt absolutely horrid. It would rip me open, unless it was only a little spear, like my own. But, would a man ever want to do that?

"I have a hole. And my mouth, I could like… I could suck on his worm. He'd never need to put it in my hole. I can just suck on it."

That's what Mikkel said he'd want a girl to do for him most of all, but he wasn't able to find one who'd do it.

"Have you ever sucked on a man's dick? Or even a boy's?"

"No! But I'll do it, if I have to. And I'd do it so well, he'd never realize I'm really a boy."

"If only you could convince him you were a girl, I wouldn't have to put you in my basement. Alas, it's simply too big a gamble. If he'd ever find out I was trying to pass you off for a girl, he'd kill first you, then me. It's much safer if I try to explain how I couldn't find a girl for him tonight and I'll find one tomorrow. You're going in the basement. If you're still alive when he leaves, I'll deal with you then. If you're dead, I'll just bury you down there. Problem solved."

"Mister! Please. I'm really good at acting. I was the best in my class. Please let me try, I won't let any of us down."

I had been a superb actor and I had in fact been the best sheep in the stupid school play we had been forced to do at the end of year two. I was the only sheep in the play, hence I had been the best darn sheep. I didn't have any lines to say, only a few 'baaahs', but I had made the rather silly noises at exactly the right times and loudly too. My father hadn't been so appreciative of my role, in fact he strode out of the gymnasium when he saw me in the stupid outfit I had been wearing.

"Don't you understand that if you fail we'll both suffer the most horrific deaths? My associate, Sayid [Mr.] Peterson isn't just a man. He's powerful. He has connections to the very top of the Liberal Army of Vengeance. I've invested all my money in seeds for growing… No, never mind what I'm growing for them. Just understand that I can't possibly risk it."

"In for a penny, in for a pound." Isn't that what father always told me? "When you commit to do something, do so wholeheartedly."

"I'll prove it. I'll be with you like a girl. So you can see for yourself that I can be a girl. I'll be the best girl. No, I'll be better than any girl ever was at being a girl. Just give me a chance."

***

He kept silent for a while, all the time he looked me up and down. He had turned me to face him after he had tied my hands on my back.

I don't like how he keeps looking at my worm. It's like he's afraid of it or something. Maybe I should tell him it is quite harmless. It doesn't even get so much bigger when it sticks out. Like when Abiha made it do that.

He picked up my watch and looked at it.

"Is this showing the right time?" he asked.

I nodded my head. I wanted to ask him what good it would be to have a watch if it wasn't telling the proper time.

This isn't the time to be cheeky. I want him to like me. I want him to think of me as if I am a girl. How do I do that?

I thought of the few girls I had noticed during my life. There was my sister of course, but she was so little and if I behaved like her, I'd probably be in for a severe spanking instead of what I wanted. Even though I had wanted to smack her so many times myself, I only ever did it once. She'd broken my best toy.

Mum slapped me so hard on the cheek and then smacked my rear end. She told me Lise was just a baby and didn't know what she had done.

I can still remember the smile and the look on Lise's face when she had sat there with my action figure and snapped both of his arms right off while she looked at me.

She knew exactly what she did! And she totally loved seeing mum spanking me. She sat laughing and clapping her hands.

I'd pinch her at night instead of smacking her little butt. Any time she'd wake me by kicking me in her sleep, I'd pinch her. Hard! It never left any marks though, I was real careful of that. I was silently laughing while I pretended to be in a deep sleep when she had started crying and had to be comforted by mum.

I miss her so much now! Both of them!

While girls do cry more than boys, I doubted the man wanted me to cry like a girl. I had to force myself not to dwell at Lise and how much I missed my annoying little sister. I had only very limited experience with girls however, my school days had been at a boys-only school. There had been girls in the city I lived in before the base, of course, but I hadn't been particularly interested in doing anything with them. If they were anything like my little sister, I had more than enough trouble with her already. I didn't need to get myself into more trouble by hanging out with girls my own age.

I could only really think of Taslima and how she had behaved when she wasn't inside the tent she shared with Farooq. Then there was of course Abiha, but she hadn't done much interaction with the men of the family. I was basically the only male she had talked to while I had been with the family, but I wasn't a man and she hadn't exactly done much to ever allow me forgetting it.

She always said I was only a little boy. One who needed her help to wash himself. She never allowed me to show her I could've easily done it all on my own. No, I'll have to behave like Taslima did. What was it she did? Oh yes.

I adjusted my behaviour to match that of the extremely submissive Taslima. I bowed my head some, shuffled my feet closer to each other and tried to mimic her little insecure smile and subtle looks she had cast at her husband. Only I did it to this fat man in front of me.

He hummed and opened a closet next to us and took the most girlish of any girl dresses I've ever seen out of it. When he held it up in front of me, I saw it reached down to about my knees. About the same the tunic had done after Farooq so indifferently had ripped it and used part of it to gag me. The mere look of the dress was however enough to make me sick.

It was deep red in colour, knee length as I just said. It had sleeves but only barely so, about 5 cm short sleeves that ended in white lacy frills. The neck opening fortunately was just that, an opening where my neck would fit through. It was a dress clearly made for girls not yet in puberty so it wasn't low cut. Where the dress ended down near my knees there was more of the white lacy frills. The ever worst part however was the big white bow on the front and the long white bands I just knew would be tied on my back in yet another bow.

I must've blushed crimson red in humiliation, probably matching the colour of the dress quite nicely, while I took in the sight of the way too girlish dress and could literally feel the heat spread over my cheeks.

"Is that for me?" I asked with faked girlish glee in my voice.

Most of all I wanted to take that dress and bury it.

No, simply burying it won't do. At the very first chance I get I'll light it on fire then bury the ashes!

The thought of having to actually wear something as ghastly as that dress, and having to pretend I loved every second of wearing it, made me even sicker.

"Yes, though you'll have to wait until we've cleaned you up a little. You look like you've spent the past year in the desert. You smell quite like it too," he said, "I can't clean you properly with your hands tied on your back though. Let me see… there should be something I can use… Ah, yes, this'll do."

I looked into the closet he had now opened fully. I wish I hadn't however as there were more dresses inside of it, even pink ones. That wasn't the worst however, there was a large selection of whips, chains and many other items I had no clear idea of what were for, though I knew they were likely to be used in one way or another with or on me.

Why else would they be in the same closet as the dresses?

The item he pulled out wasn't as bad as the other more nerve-wrecking things inside the closet. It was a pair of small hand cuffs, something that once might've made me tremble from fear, but I'd much rather have my hands cuffed than finding out what it would feel like to be whipped. He untied the rope only after he tested the cuffs were sitting securely on my wrists.

"I don't trust you. Not yet. If I was you, I'd be busy thinking of how to escape. In fact, I don't think a pair of handcuffs would stop me from trying to run."

He reached into the closet and brought out a thin link chain. He used a small padlock to secure it to the link between the cuffs on my wrists and a single cuff he put on his own wrist.

"There. If you want to run, you'll have to take me with you. And I've no intention of leaving my house. Come, your bath awaits you, my little princess."

***

The bath wasn't too bad, well, not the actual bathing part of it. That only involved having to stand patiently in his bathtub while he washed me. I only had to make sure he had easy access to all parts of my body though he made me wash my worm and nuts on my own.

"I'm only ever touching one dick and that's my own," he said.

He had apparently already forgotten how he had flicked at my poor worm's head. While he refused to touch my worm he had no problems with my rear end. It gave me flashbacks of me lying on my back using my butt to drink dirty water when he filled it with water from a hose. However he made me push it all out into a hole in the floor, only to fill up my butt again. I don't know how much water went inside me the second time but he didn't turn off the faucet and remove the hose until I pitifully whined about it hurting me.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked in my normal boy's voice while I strained to keep the water inside like he had told me to.

"If your hole is to be used like a girl's, it had better be clean inside. You'll do this three times every day for as long as Sayid Peterson is here. If he wishes to put his dick in your hole, you'll let him. You can scream and plead all you want, but do not refuse him entry. If you do, he'll only make it much worse for you. Eventually, he will get his dick inside, whether you let him do it willingly or not. Just make sure he doesn't find out you're a boy… Well, I just may have an idea of how to keep that fact from him.

"Push the water out, if you're not clean inside by now you never will be."

I was only too happy to let the water out of my hole, he really had put a lot of it inside of me.

After a quick rinse in the tub I was meticulously wiped down and led back to the room with the closet full of things clearly not meant for a young boy like me.

Chapter 5

"It's a good thing you're quite small down there. It'll make it much easier for you to wear what I have in mind."

My worm does look a lot smaller than normal. My nuts feel like they're trying to crawl into my body. It must be from the icy cold water he used to bathe me and to clean my bum hole!

My worm wasn't small enough for it not to hurt me when he strapped me into a device clearly designed for torturing me. It was a polished steel triangular shape that covered my boy parts fully. It wasn't completely flat, but the slight bulge in it didn't leave much room for my bits. By pulling on leather straps he made the steel sit quite snuggly then pulled even more on the straps until it felt absolutely horrible for me. My nuts felt as if they were being crushed and my worm wasn't doing much better.

He ignored my wails, only finished securing the straps so they wouldn't come off unless he released them. I know this as I tried frantically to locate the ends of the straps, only to have my fingers brush against some kind of lock.

"Take it off! Please, take it off! It hurts me so much," I cried.

"No, it'll stay on until after Sayid Peterson goes to sleep. Then I'll take it off. You won't be able to pee until then, so make sure you don't drink too much."

"Why do I have to wear… this? What is this thing?"

"It's a chastity belt meant for girls and young women, but I'm happy to see it actually fits you as well. There's no telling you're nothing but a useless boy now. It makes everything quite flush down here," he explained and then knocked on the steel with one of his knuckles.

"Ow! Don't do that. It makes it hurt even more."

It felt like the two taps had been directly to my little nuts. The pressure from the chastity belt wouldn't let up no matter how much I tried to suck in my stomach or push it out. I could spread my legs as wide or keep them as closely together as I could and still the pain wouldn't go away.

"Now, I obviously put the chastity belt on you so it'll hide your parts from Sayid Peterson. I'll tell him you've been a very bad girl so you're not to experience any nice feelings from being with him. I'm afraid it might make him want to punish you too. Pretending to be a girl for him was your own idea however. He just doesn't like naughty little girls much. I guess I never had a chance to explain that to you. Oh, I have one more gift for you."

If the chastity belt or whatever he called it was supposed to be a gift, I don't want any more of his 'gifts'.

He fitted the bracelet he had promised me in exchange for my boy's watch on my wrist and it felt like it was trying to crush it. It sat so snuggly I couldn't budge it.

"Uh-uh, don't tamper with it, if you should somehow manage to dislodge it, it'll send a most powerful surge of electricity into your body. It'll not only hurt, it'll quite possibly knock you right out. In fact I trust it so much I'm going to free you from your hand cuffs now. You're able to safely walk around the house but don't try to leave it. The bracelet doesn't like to go outside. Another thing, it is voice activated. So don't make any wrong moves."

"I don't want this. I'm not a girl. I'm a boy. I'd make a lousy girl. Take these things off of me and tie me up in your basement," I sobbed.

"On the contrary, I think you'll be a most excellent girl for Sayid Peterson."

"No, I won't! I'll tell him I'm really a boy. And then he'll kill you. He may kill me first, I don't care."

"Do you really think he'll believe you if you tell him you're a boy? Look in the mirror, do you see a boy looking back at you? Is there anything at all you can see that proves you are a boy?"

All I could see in the full length mirror was a child. One with tears streaming down its face. It could have been a boy but in all fairness it could just as likely have been a girl. The polished steel covering my boy parts could just as well have been covering girl parts. I had seen Lise's girl parts more often than I care to remember. It had been interesting at first to study the differences between her parts and mine, but the novelty had soon worn off.

She hadn't been very old at the time when I had removed her diaper and sat with my own shorts and underpants down and compared myself to her. It had been interesting and actually rather fun for the both of us right up until my mum walked into the lounge and discovered me sitting in front of my sister and touching her. I doubt I have to explain that since my shorts and underwear were already around my ankles I ended up with a quite sore behind. From then on it had been strictly watching and no touching.

Much as it was right then, three years later. Well, I couldn't actually see my parts, certainly couldn't touch them as they were behind that shiny piece of metal. I could feel them though, or at least I could feel the distressed signals they sent out in a most painful way.

"No," I had to admit, "But I am a BOY! I'm not a lousy girl!"

"Shouting it out from the top of your lungs won't make anyone believe you. In fact, I don't much care for your attitude young lady. If you don't shape up, I'm going to give you something to really cry about."

***

As it turned out I never had to prove to the man who had bought me from Baba that I was every bit as good as any girl he'd be able to find.

"It doesn't matter now. I think Sayid Peterson will be most pleased having a virgin to play with, even if he can't access the front hole. I don't think he'll be too unhappy though, as far as I know he rather enjoys slipping his dick in through the back door too. That's why I usually have to spend so much money on girls for him. Ever since the first one ran her pretty little mouth, every girl in town knows he's going to do that, so they demand more money. Well, the beatings didn't help either I suppose."

I didn't like what he told me. It was bad enough I had no way out of pretending to be a girl for this Sayid Peterson, whoever he might be, and had to be with him. I certainly didn't look forward to also having to be beaten up by him for no reason at all. Other than maybe for being a boy when he really wanted a girl.

That must be why there are so many whips and paddles in that closet.

I really had no choice but to allow myself being clad in first a pair of snug white tights, then the too-girlish-for-even-a-girl dress. And finally lift my feet one at a time for him to put on red shoes with heels that made walking even trickier.

As if it wasn't enough having to walk around with that piece of metal squashing my nuts!

I tried to make it impossible for him to put makeup on my face by constantly moving my head away from his hands. A swift punishment in the form of a slap to my left cheek made me sit still and even pucker my lips while he carefully put lipstick on them.

He made me look like a girl! A somewhat beautiful girl. Her hair is a bit short, but all it really does is make her look even prettier. What am I thinking? It's ME! I'm a boy! I'm not that girl staring back at me in the mirror.

He had me walk around in the lounge practising to walk like a girl. The shoes were a bit too small for me, adding to my discomfort when I was forced to walk with my feet closer to each other.

"Put one foot almost directly in front of the other as you walk. No proper girl walks with her feet so far apart. It makes you walk like a cow. That's more like it, now, move your hips from side to side as you walk. No! Not like that, time it to your steps. Better, but not perfect. Concentrate on what you're doing."

It was easy for him to say. I was trying very hard to think of a way to get away from the house.

If he's right, the stupid bracelet will fry my brain if I as much as set one foot outside the door. I have to find the key for it first. There's just no way to do that until both this sleaze bag and Sayid whatever-his-name-is-again goes to sleep. I guess I have to be a girl for him tonight. There's just no way out of it.

***

A car pulled up in front of the farm house, I heard the engine turn off and more than one door slam shut. Whoever this Sayid was, he was wealthy or important enough to have a driver and possible a bodyguard escorting him. Their arrival at least put a stop to my endlessly walking around.

"Sayid Peterson, I'm so happy to welcome you to my humble home once again. I hope you'll find everything to your liking. If not, I will do my outmost best to correct it," I heard the man say from outside.

What a douchebag! Mr 'Brown Nose' if there ever was one!

He had left me in the lounge, apparently not worried about me escaping. I noticed the French doors leading into the garden, if they weren't locked, I just might be able to slip unnoticed outside and run like the wind.

Even if it means running around in girl's clothing! But what about the bracelet? Do I really dare to put it to the test? It's done absolutely nothing so far, only sit there and try its best to strangle my wrist. Well, I've just got to take my chances. I can't let that Sayid use me like a girl! I'll figure out a way to take off the fucking squeezing belt thing he put on me later. And find some boy's clothes. I'd almost rather be naked than wear this frilly dress.

The French doors were easy to open. All it took was to push down on the door handle and one of the doors popped open. I only paused long enough to push off the tight girly shoes from my feet and ran out the door into the garden.

"The bracelet doesn't like to be outside," what a load of bull. I'm outside now and noth…

My thoughts were interrupted by a high screech. To this day, I'm not fully sure whether the screech came from the bracelet or if it was me who made the high-pitched sound. I think I managed to get as far as ten metres [c. 30 feet] away from the house before I tumbled face first onto the grassy lawn in the fat man's garden. The jolt from the bracelet was like nothing I had ever experienced before in my life.

And I thought putting a nine volt battery on the tip of my tongue was bad!

The electricity didn't fry my brains out as I had feared but it shocked every muscle in my body. My heart skipped a beat or two before it started beating like I had been running nonstop for an hour or more. I wanted to get back on my feet, tried to force my left arm to move and put my hand on the grass so I could push myself up. Nothing happened. It was like my brain had been disconnected from my body.

"This wasn't exactly how I had planned to introduce the two of you to each other, Sayid Peterson. Still, the little beauty is Amalie. I'm afraid she isn't quite able to stand and greet you properly just yet. The bracelet has rendered her unable to move, though I trust she'll be able to do so in about 15 minutes. Sorry, Sayid, I don't know why I'm explaining this to you, it was after all you who gave it to me."

I wanted to glare at the fatso, unfortunately my head was facing in the wrong direction and like he had just said I wasn't able to turn it.

Amalie? My name isn't fucking Amalie, that's a girl's name! I'm a boy and my name's Søren! And why the hell can't I move?

I could think, I was breathing and I could blink. I could also cry though it was only the tears pouring from my eyes that indicated it. I hadn't lost my sense of touch, at least I could feel the dew on my cheek, well any bare skin touching it really, but mostly I felt it on my cheek. I felt it when the fat man picked me up and carried me like a baby back to the house.

"I best get her back inside before the bracelet sends out another surge. It might kill her before you had a chance to get to know her, Sayid."

"Now that would be a shame. She looks different from any girl you've managed to keep me company before."

Why of course I do! I'm a boy! Open your eyes, you stupid motherfucker.

"Yes, Sayid. I was most fortunate to procure Amalie here. She'll probably help me in the fields after you leave. Not that I hope to see you leave any time soon, Sayid. No, you're most welcome here in my humble home for as long as you want."

***

"She doesn't look local to me?"

The Sayid was looking at me more closely now I had been lain on the sofa in the lounge. Specifically he looked at my blue eyes and my golden locks of hair.

"She isn't. I've no idea how she ended up walking up to my door and ring the bell to ask for work. She came straight from the desert though."

That's NOT how it happened.

"From the desert? Hmm, she must be a most fortunate little girl if she managed to travel through the desert all alone."

"I swear it's the truth. As God is my witness, that's how it happened."

"Enough! I don't want to hear another word about your God. I can't stand to hear the hypocrisy about how kind he is and all the utter crap. Get me a bottle of wine and two glasses. The white wine. Then leave us."

"Yes, Sayid."

Chapter 6

"Here, Amalie, have a drink of this. Only a little. It must've been a frightening experience. Didn't Ali tell you what would happen if you left the house wearing the bracelet?"

I nodded and sniffed in trying to clear my nostrils from the snot I hadn't been able to do anything about until then.

"So you've disobeyed him. You're not very good at listening to what people tell you. He had to put you in the chastity belt too. I could force him to unlock it, so I can give you a little pleasure too… No? You don't want to feel even the slightest bit of pleasure?"

I shook my head as best as I could. I didn't want anything to do with him, nor the fat man, Ali. Ali's idea of what gifts were made me most certain that whatever this man thought was pleasure wouldn't at all be pleasurable for me.

"Most girls want to feel pleasure. Then there are some who wants it to hurt. I guess it's so they can say they never wanted it to happen in the first place. That they didn't like it. So you're one of the latter. It doesn't make a difference to me. I can make you hurt. I'll make you hurt so nicely."

"No, Sayid," I whined.

At least my voice works again now.

"You didn't want it to feel nice. And now you're telling me not to make it hurt. It has to be one of the two and as you can't seem to make up your mind, I'll have to decide for you. Since your fanny is all locked up, I can't make you feel nice. There's only really one option, and that's for you to be hurt. You do need to be disciplined for wanting to run away from me too. Yes, I know the bracelet caused some discomfort, but it'll be nothing compared to what I have in mind for you now. When I've finished, you'll never want to disobey anyone again!"

His words made me gasp.

Discomfort? I couldn't move for fifteen minutes and that's a discomfort? Oh dear God of Mercy, take pity on me. I'm only nine and I'm not much of a believer, but I beg of you now, please!

I wasn't much of a believer in any one of the 12 Gods. One of which was the God of Mercy. I couldn't remember the names of all the Gods, nor could I remember what all of them supposedly did. There seemed to be a God for everything, though the God of War (and Peace) was the one I guess I liked the most.

You would too, if you were brought up in a military family.

Then there was the God of Love, mostly dealing with family things if I remember correctly. It was also the one you'd pray to if you found someone you really loved and wanted her to love you too, I guess. I hadn't done much praying to her at all, well, my mum had ordered me to pray to her to ask her to make me love my little sister more. It didn't work though, not at the time, but maybe it was because I hadn't been real sincere when I was forced to pray out loud with my mum. God of Luck and God of Justice comes to mind too, but I hadn't paid much attention, so I can't remember the rest of them right now.

***

I had no clue whatsoever what it would entail being a girl for anyone, the stuff the teens had talked about hadn't sounded like something any real girl would ever do. Ali's brief explanation of a man putting his worm in the girl's holes didn't seem real likely to me either.

A girl's hole just isn't big enough for that. Lise's hole sure wasn't. It was more like a slit.

To be honest, I wasn't too concerned about having to perform the girl's part in the big mystery of being with a man. Not at that very moment, it was more the immediate concern of what punishment the Sayid had in mind for me.

I just know it's going to hurt! Oh, please! Don't make it hurt too much!

Sayid Peterson made me follow him to the room where I had been clad in my dress.

No! It isn't my dress. It's just what Ali made me wear.

I had to stand and watch while he shifted through a bunch of whips. It made me cringe every time he'd test one against his palm, the 'whish' sound it made when the different whips went through the air and the snaps they made when they connected to his palm.

"This one will do, that little tap actually made my hand sting and I didn't even use any real force. So, Amalie, here's what I want you to do. Bend forwards and put your hands on your knees. Keep your legs straight, as straight as you can."

I did as he told me to.

"There's a good little girl. I think it'll be better if you hold the back of your knees. Yes, just like that. All you have to do now is stand like that until I tell you it is okay to get back up… No, don't move, I'm only moving your dress out of the way. I want you to be able to feel this little stinger. I suppose I should really take down your tights too, but that would only spoil my surprise later. I don't want to see your cute little rear end until just before I'll fuck you.

"Perhaps I'll whip your small bared buttocks after I've finished fucking you. Since you enjoy pain so much."

"Sayid, please! I don't enjoy pain. I don't like it even one little bit."

"It's okay Amalie, you can trust me. I won't tell anyone. Your secret's safe with me."

"No! I don't like it! You aren't listening to me."

"Amalie, I'd really hate having to gag you. It would smear the lipstick all over your pretty little face. Keep quiet now. Not another word."

I sobbed quietly when he took aim, he put the whip right on the middle of my bum as if he wanted to make sure it would hit exactly there when he pulled back his arm. It was probably a lot like what my father did when he'd play golf and spent ages swinging the putter back and forth before he shuffled back and forth and ended up in what to my eyes seemed as the exact same spot. I'd been enlisted as his caddy.

It had sounded like an impressive title which was why I had agreed to do it in the first place, but all it meant was me dragging his bloody golf clubs all over the stupid course. And even with all the shuffling around he still missed the hole time and time again. That was the best of it. Even if I couldn't laugh. He would only have beaten me up then.

Much like I was about to be beaten. Though my father had never ever beaten me with a whip not even a stick. Only his hands. Um and Hameed had also only used their hands.

That still hurt a lot. I wonder how bad this'll be. Please, just get started. Don't drag it out like this.

"OWW! No! Stop! Please!" I quickly changed my mind after the first time the whip hit my poor butt.

"Hush now, my dear Amalie. Don't yell like that. There are no neighbours here but my hearing is quite good and I'd like to keep it that way."

"It hurts so much," I said, fighting to keep my voice down.

"It wouldn't be a punishment if it wasn't just at least a little uncomfortable. Wouldn't you agree?"

I'm not going to agree to that. Yes, a punishment is supposed to hurt, but I haven't done anything to deserve being punished. Only perhaps I've been stupid. Father said that's the worst crime there is, so maybe it's only fair I get severely punished now?

"Ow." I didn't yell out the second time the whip cracked up against my bum. It still hurt like a bitch.

"That's better. Though I didn't hit you as hard as before. Let's try again."

Try again he did. Over and over. I lost count after the tenth time Sayid Peterson hit me with the whip. He carried on for much longer though.

***

"Much as I'd love to continue whipping you, I do appreciate how much you enjoy it, I simply have to stop now. I've been on the road for most of the day and the roads in this region aren't very good and I need to sleep soon. Before that, I have to see what your back door is like though. It's practically begging for me to fuck it. I'll whip you again tomorrow, maybe we'll try another one and compare it to this."

Being the girl in bed with a man can't possibly be any worse than being whipped. I only wish I could sit in a bucket full of ice cubes before I'll be used like a girl.

I didn't have any such luck, Sayid Peterson told me to follow him to the room where he was going to sleep. Well, he only went to sleep after he had seen what my 'back door' was like.

I wonder why there are so many children in the world. It fucking hurts being the girl! Maybe it only hurts when a boy pretends to be a girl and lets a man put his worm inside his hole. His 'worm' isn't a worm though, it's a darn snake compared to mine!

My butthole was competing with my buttocks of who was hurting the most. I couldn't decide on a winner, my whole rear end seemed to be one big aching area. Both on the inside and the outside. Sayid 'call me Ludvig' Peterson, had to force his worm, no, I'll call it what it is from now on. He had to force his massive cock inside my little butthole. It took him ages, while I kept trying to tell him it wouldn't fit, before he proved me wrong. It did fit inside, but not without hurting me a lot more than the marker pen had.

The greasy stuff he kept putting on his cock and my butthole made things slicker, but it didn't take away the pain of the very blunt end forcing my hole to a size I would've previously deemed impossible and go deeper than anything I had ever had going into my bum before.

And I thought Abiha had long fingers when she helped make the itch go away. That cock went so much further inside. It hurt when it went really deep. But he wouldn't stop. He told me it would fit, all I had to do was relax a little. Relax! That's not easy to do when you feel like a Ghrateion missile is trying to enter your butt!

If you're not interested in military hardware, you may not know what a Ghrateion missile is. It's a very big intercontinental missile, a whopping 8.5 metres [c. 28 feet] in diameter and with the booster engine fitted it is 76.45 metres [c. 251 feet] long. My country's military used to have parades where they'd show off some of these giant things where they'd put them on a custom built trailer and have a powerful tractor pull them. I often wondered why they didn't just send a couple of those after the Liberal Army of Vengeance, it would put an end to the war right quick.

"Because if they did, it would kill all of us, you numbnuts."

That had been Bertram's response to my suggestion. My nuts were quite numb right then, but since Ali had freed me from the torture device, he called a chastity belt, they were in a bit better shape now. I was surprised to see they hadn't been squeezed flat but looked quite normal after the steel had been removed. Well, the pouch holding them looked quite red, as did my worm, but both hung out in the open now.

Ludvig kept telling me to relax and I had done my best even though it only made him able to shove even more of that cock of his inside of me. I tried to push it out with my butt, like when I do my business, but that only made Ludvig grunt and push even harder sending more of his fucking long cock into my butt.

When he finally could push no more into me, he pulled it back out. It gave me hope and a sense of accomplishment that he had finally proved his point of being able to fit his whole cock inside of me and now took it out. Hopefully to go to sleep and leave me alone until the next morning, or even better to leave me alone forever.

And just as it was about to pop out he just pushed it back in again! And again and again. Faster too. So fast at the end it made me moan out so loud. He thought I liked it! He shook me so violently I thought I was going to die from it. I had to moan to try to ease the pain just a little. It did not feel good at all.

"You don't have to hide your true feelings from me, Amalie. You can tell all your little girl friends you didn't enjoy it, if that's what you want to. I'd rather you tell them how nice it actually was, as it'll make it easier for Ali to find me other girls when you get too old for me. Don't worry about that now, you won't get too old for me for years to come from the looks of your breasts. Your chest is as flat as any boy's. However, for now, get lost. I want to sleep and I don't sleep well if I share my bed with anyone. Not even a girl as nice as you."

***

"Not even a girl as nice as you."

I kept hearing the words over and over again while I tried to fall asleep. Ali hadn't thrown me into his basement, in fact I hadn't even seen it. He had just told me to sleep in the small room where the closet with the girl things was. The closet had been locked as had the only door to the room. I lay there on the uncomfortable couch facing the backrest. Ali had undone the belt of torture but he had left the bracelet on my wrist.

"It works much better than any chain would. It'll be more comfortable for you as well. Get some sleep, Princess Amalie. Tomorrow is another day," Ali had said just before he locked me inside the room.

The locked door was both to keep me in the room and prevent Sayid Peterson from seeing me without wearing the horrid belt. I think it was mostly due to knowing I'd be wearing it again the next day I had trouble going to sleep. My buttocks hurt, but in all honesty they didn't feel any worse than that time when Hameed had really slapped the piss out of me. My bum hole ached, but like my buttocks it wasn't really bad as long as I didn't shift around too much on the sofa.

"Not even a girl as nice as me." A girl. He really thinks I'm a girl!

That was what my thoughts kept returning to. I'm not sure if I would've been so bothered about being used like a girl as long as the Sayid at least would've acknowledged the fact that I truly was a boy.

He thinks I'm a girl! How degrading is that to a boy?

I shifted a bit on the sofa and my bum hole immediately objected to it.

Tomorrow I'm going to tell him I'm a boy, no matter what he'll do to me. He can whip me all he wants. As long as he'll know he'll be whipping a boy, not a girl. Ali can even put me in the basement and starve me to death. I'd rather die like a boy instead of living as a girl.

***

Ali brought me breakfast early the next morning, then took me to the bathroom where I was told to tinkle and then he filled my bum with water twice before locking me back inside the small room.

"There's water in the jug. If you have to piss, use the bucket there. Sayid Peterson will be much too busy for most of the day to spend time with you. He'll expect you to join him for dinner and for the rest of the evening. Amalie, please do try to remember the bracelet is still active. The battery in it is quite small, but it has more than enough power to last for a month without needing to be recharged. It's able to shock you about eleven or twelve more times, each time just as bad as last night. Don't try to move it, in fact it would probably be best if you don't touch it at all," he told me before leaving me alone.

Even if I could somehow get it off, there's no way I'll be able to get out that door. It looks like it's more suited for being used in a prison.

I spent the day bored to tears, I wished I was back with my family and if that wasn't an option then back with the Bedouins. My days there had been tough but never boring. It gave me time to think, to plot exactly how I was going to tell Sayid Peterson what my real gender was, how he'd realize his mistake and how he'd free me from Ali.

Of course, he'll likely kill Ali first, but then he'll drive me to the nearest airport so I can go live with my aunt and uncle. I'm not sure if I want Ali dead, though I don't really care as long as I'll be free. I'll tell him…

***

I had more than ample time to rethink my plan and imagine every possible outcome from my revelation of my gender to Sayid Peterson. I hadn't yet decided which way would be the best when I heard the men returning to the house and Ali a few minutes later unlocked the heavy door to my little prison cell.

"Sayid Peterson is getting freshened up after a most successful tour of my fields. He seemed delighted about the progress I've been making. Don't spoil his mood tonight," he told me when he prepped me.

I didn't want to wear the belt that had crushed my boy bits the night before, but Ali insisted.

"If I have to, I'll set off the bracelet. With your body stunned, it'll be much harder for me to get you ready, I might accidently make the chastity belt sit even tighter than absolutely necessary. I won't hesitate to stun you, all it takes is one word. You'll find out what it is, if you're not standing with your legs spread and hands on top of your head within five seconds."

"Mister, please…"

"Three seconds. Two…"

"Okay! Fine. Wait, stop counting, I'm doing it. See?"

Ali expertly got me locked into the chastity belt, really the belt of torture or the belt of pure agony. Knowing what it would do to my small nuts didn't help me in the least.

"Ow! You've pulled the straps tighter than last night!"

"Just a couple of millimetres. Maybe that'll teach you a lesson. If you defy me again, it'll go on even tighter tomorrow. After I've shocked you. You won't be given a five second warning then!"

***

Sitting at the dinner table and being hand fed by Sayid Peterson was anything but a nice experience. The food was really nice and so was the wine that sparkled like it was a clear version of Coke. However, sitting on the lavish chair made the belt of pure agony live up to the name I had given it. To the fullest, I might add. I was berated by the Sayid more than once for not being able to sit perfectly still while he forced me to eat from his hand and drink from the tall glass he lifted to my mouth. Another man, maybe his chauffeur, kept topping up the glasses, so I've no idea of how much of the sparkling wine I had.

For no reason at all, I spontaneously giggled quite loudly. And though I tried to stop myself, I couldn't.

"Oops, I think Miss Amalie has gotten a bit too much of the champagne," Sayid Peterson said.

"Is that what it is?" I blurted out and giggled at the way my words sounded. I had sounded so shocked and upset at the same time.

Champagne is alcohol and I've probably had more than half a bottle of it in about 30 minutes!

Somehow that seemed funny to me as well and I chortled from laughter. I had even managed to completely forget everything about the nut-crushing steel compressing all I had between my legs. Not that I had all that much down there at the age of nine.

"Why, I think the young lady is more than just a bit tipsy," Sayid Peterson said.

"She's drunk!" Ali said outraged.

"I'm not!" I laughed.

I was feeling very weird, but didn't think of myself being anything like the drunkards in the street my mum had told me to stay well clear of when we had been out shopping one day when I had been much younger. They had sat on a bench, yelling at each other even if they were right next to each other. To my young inexperienced mind they had seemed extremely angry and quite dangerous, though mum had told me not to worry about them as long as I kept my distance.

"Good. Then we can continue eating. You're not getting ill are you, my sweet darling girl?"

"No."

I didn't feel like throwing up or anything. Only wanted more of the champagne that made my tongue tickle so much when it entered my mouth. It tasted nice too!

***

I couldn't walk in a straight line after dinner, heck, I couldn't even stand up from the chair on my own. Sayid Peterson had to carry me from the dining room to his room where he plonked me on top of his bed. I giggled when the spring mattress made me bounce up and down and couldn't do much other than lay there and observe while the man undressed himself.

"I want to look just like you when I grow up, Mr. Ludvig," I stated most truthfully. The Sayid had a quite toned body, extremely hairy, his man spear jutted out from a generous bush of curly brown, greying pubic hair. He was the personification of pure man!

"Don't be daft, girl. You can't grow into being a man. You'll probably end up with a big pair of breasts, wide hips and a big floppy arse. Likely you'll have a dozen kids with different men."

"No I won't. I'm not a girl, you see? I'm actually a boy. My name isn't Amalie, it's Søren. For real. Even if you'll use me like a girl, I'm still a boy and I want my body to look exactly like yours when I grow old too."

This is not the way I had planned to say it!

I was suddenly able to think coherently again.

"Girl or boy, it doesn't matter to me right now. You look like a girl, you sound like a girl and you'll suck my cock like a girl. Then I'll fuck you like a girl. End of story. I'm drunk and you're drunk. Let's forget everything for the moment and have some fun."

"But Mr. Ludvig, didn't you hear what I said? I'm a boy! You can't use me like a girl any longer."

"Well, if you are a boy now, you were a boy last night too. I didn't notice any differences from the girls I usually have fun with and I doubt I will tonight. Stop talking and start sucking. Let's see if a boy does it better than a girl. Open wide, it won't bite you. If you bite me, I'll cut off your cock and balls, then you'll truly be the girl you so clearly wish to be."

I never wished to be a girl!

I had to only say that to myself. The Sayid had already grabbed me by the ears and his cock was well inside my mouth at the time. It didn't taste as well as the champagne had, but I scarcely had time to realize that before I had to fight keeping both champagne and the tasty food in my stomach.

If he keeps trying to force all of his cock into my throat, both food and champagne will soon come back out.

"Relax your throat. Swallow like you're drinking water and it'll go right in."

He never let go of my ears but at least he didn't just force his cock into my throat. It was still quite awful sitting on the bed and have my ears held tight while he moved his cock in and out of my mouth and eventually a little into my throat.

"Well, in time you may be able to give a good blowjob. You'll need lots more practise, something I'm happy to help you get. Every morning from now on, you'll come in here and wake me by sucking on my cock. If you do a satisfying job I won't interfere with what you're doing. If you don't, I'll have to motivate you to do better. Now, give me a few minutes and I'll fuck your arse. I bet that's what you want most of all. A pretty little boy-girl like you. A boy transvestite. I'll make you…"

"Make me wha…" I started asking and was interrupted by a loud snore from the drunken Sayid.

He's sleeping! I need to go find Ali so he can let me out of the belt. Ludvig can't fuck me in his sleep.

Chapter 7

Ali hadn't been notified of my new morning task, though I must admit I didn't tell him about it either. He was in a sour mood when he let me out of the cell the next morning.

"Quickly now, get in the tub. Sayid Peterson is most angry at us. Did you use the bucket during the night? No? Good, at least that's one thing less to worry about. Did you really tell him that you're a boy? Well, he told me not to put the chastity belt on you from now on. Though he still wants me to put makeup on your face. I've no idea what he wants to do to you, but he wants you to be ready in your room in 30 minutes," Ali frantically explained.

He flushed my bum out after my bath, which could only mean one thing.

He wants to use me like a girl again. He knows I'm a boy and he'll still put his cock in my bum! That means he's a… But no, he can't be. Mikkel said only the lowliest of boys were like that. Though Bertram then told Nikolaj that had to be why he always wanted me to walk around with my shorts down. So he could look at my bum and dream of doing it. Darn, Nikolaj really beat up Bertram then.

"Wait here, Sayid Peterson will be here shortly," Ali told me and shut the prison-like door to my room with no windows.

The cold water was still dripping off my body while I waited. I had to wait standing up as I didn't want to make the couch wet from sitting on it. I didn't have to wait long until the door was unlocked and Sayid Peterson entered my room. The small room suddenly felt so much smaller with the tall man in it. He shut the door behind him then turned to face me.

"Aha, the boy who wants to be a girl in all of his glory. Yes, I can see you're a boy now. Not much of a boy, but clearly a boy nonetheless. Are you happy not to be forced to hide your small boy parts from view?"

I shrugged pitifully. It scarcely mattered if my bits were on display or not if he was going to keep using me like a girl anyway. I had to admit it was nice not to have my nuts crushed under the inflexible steel.

"Well, you had me fooled. As did Ali. I can't punish Ali too much since he is vital to our army. You on the other hand, you're not important. It won't matter if I hurt you and that is exactly what we'll be doing this morning. Me inflicting pain on you. When this morning is over, you'll wish you had never been a boy wanting to be a girl. Since your boy parts are no longer tucked safely away, they will be the main attraction of your punishment."

He told me all of that while rummaging through the contents of the closet he had unlocked.

"Before we get started on that, I need to make sure you won't be able to defend yourself. It would be completely futile regardless, but I prefer when I don't have to hold my little toys down while I set them straight. Put these cuffs on, the smallest go on your wrists and the larger ones on your ankles."

I looked at the leather cuffs he had tossed to me. They were wide and thick and the stiff leather was hard to get to flex enough for me to put it around my ankle.

"Go on, you can work it into the next hole. I want them to sit tight on you. Really snug."

I managed to get my ankles cuffed to his satisfaction but couldn't get the cuffs on my wrists to sit as snuggly as he wanted them. Especially the one on my left wrist was tricky as I'm a lefty. The bracelet sitting there already wasn't making things any easier either.

"Stop fiddling about. Lay on the floor, face up!"

He put his hand back into the closet and suddenly I heard the whine from electric motors followed by the rattle of link chains. It was like the sound came from all around me and a quick look around confirmed what my ears had told me. From each corner in the small room the end of a chain appeared and quite slowly they made their way to the floor. I hadn't noticed them before, the ceiling was quite dark and the suspended light fixture made it impossible to see what was beyond it.

Sayid Peterson told me to keep quiet as he fitted the ends of the chains to the ankle cuffs. He adjusted the cuff sitting on my right wrist, pulled it much tighter than I had been to and fitted the chain from the nearest corner to it.

"We won't be needing this for a few hours, I think. Might as well recharge it while we play. Disengage!"

The bracelet popped open and dropped from my wrist. He took it before I had a chance to study it any closer. I could however see where it had sat on my wrist. The skin was indented and right in the middle of where the about 2.5cm [c. 1"] thick box-like faceplate had sat, I could see two specks of dried up blood. The leather cuff hid them from view however and it was pulled just as tight as the bracelet had been. The last chain was fitted to it and I could only watch when Sayid Peterson walked back to the closet.

The motors whirred back into action, this time pulling the chains back up against the ceiling! My limbs were already stretched out and it wasn't long until only my bum was touching the floor.

"Stop your whining. I'm not going to suspend you from only your arms and legs. Though I probably should. No, I only want you spread out nicely. This should help make you feel a little more comfortable."

He brought out a square piece of black leather. There was a fastener in each of the corners, though I couldn't possibly see why that would better my situation any. My joints ached even if most of my weight was still supported by my bum. More chains started rattling their way down the walls and he fitted these to the corners of the rather large leather piece.

"This is a little tricky. I should probably upgrade the controls to the winches."

The piece of leather worked as a seat of sorts, taking most of the weight while I was lifted upwards from the floor.

It's like I'm a car being lifted up for an inspection in a garage!

The winches stopped when I was hanging in mid-air about a metre [c. 3 feet] off the floor. I dangled from side to side, the movements only slowing little by little after the winches had stopped.

I gasped in horror when Sayid Peterson opened the door and left me to hang.

***

"There's no reason for you being the only one being comfortable while we do this," he told me when he returned with a chair in hand. He placed it between my legs and sat on it.

"Now, let me make sure you're really the boy you claim to be. For all I know, these appendages here might have been glued on or something."

"Mr. Ludvig! They're very much real!"

"Don't call me Ludvig when I punish you, girly boy!"

"Sorry, Mr. Peterson. I mean, Sayid. Whatever you want me to call you, my worm and nuts are real!"

"That's what I'm going to verify. It'll be so interesting to see what kind of response I'll get to the different things I'll do to them. A fair bit of warning however, don't struggle too much or you might mess up the alignment of the various chains. If you make yourself slip off the seat, I won't help you back up on it. Now, what to do first?"

***

I never slid off the seat, even if it at times felt like I would have. Sayid Peterson made me wish I had never been born a boy when he had finally finished his verification of my boy parts being real. My worm had been twisted and tugged at, had clamps on the hood, though the thing that hurt absolutely the most was when he had taken a soldering iron and touched the hot tip at various places on my worm. The blisters from the heat were microscopic but they still hurt hours after he had stopped tormenting me.

My nuts hadn't been neglected by the sadistic Sayid Peterson either. Everything from him trying to push them back into my body, which he had managed, only to push them back out, to squeezing them tight and slapping them with a small leather paddle had made me moan and cry out from pain. I was sweating all over when he finally lowered me back down to the floor and undid the chains. After he put the bracelet back around my wrist he told me to do the task I had failed to do earlier that morning.

While he sat on the chair, he used a whip to lash at my buttocks when he thought I needed motivation to suck harder or use my tongue more or take his cock further into my throat. If he didn't get my attention by hurting my bum cheeks, he'd crack the whip at my boy parts. I was only too happy to drink every bit of the salty explosion that filled my mouth while he moaned loudly. At least that was the signal of my tormenting being over for a time.

My presence wasn't required until dinner that evening and had it not been for fear of the Sayid hurting me even worse, I wouldn't have joined him and Ali at the table. My makeup had been reapplied by Ali, the tears I had shed throughout the morning and most of the afternoon had made it necessary.

"There's my little lamb. She does look so sweet in her dress and white tights. And she walks almost perfectly in her high heels. If I hadn't seen the dangling little piece of flesh in front of her, I'd never thought her to be a boy. Well, it's hardly long enough to dangle, but you know what I mean, Ali."

"I do Sayid. She had me fooled at first too. I hope she's doing everything to your satisfaction?"

"She's starting to. I must say I've seen more fighting spirit in real girls than this little boy-girl. She's a pleaser, not a fighter. More feminine than masculine that's for sure. I'd bet that even if she had gotten the chance, she'd never sleep with a girl. No, this little one clearly needs a man to make her happy. She'd never be able to be a man for another girl."

"Would you want to take her with you when you leave? I mean, it would be a terrible loss for me, but I could part with her, provided I was reimbursed for my great loss, of course."

"Even as pleasing as she is to my eyes and certain other parts of my body, I'm afraid it'll be quite impossible. Where I live most people do not share our points of view on children, not even someone as beautiful as this little boy-girl. That's why I have to spend a few weeks every year visiting you to satisfy my needs. If I could, I'd take her in a heartbeat and have her travel with me. Oh, I'm sure she'd love every second of it, but the risk is far too great for me. I could lose my business and quite possibly end up in prison.

"However, do not for even a second think you can use this information to extort me. I mean, who would trust the words of a slime ball like you? A weed grower? Hah! I'm one of the top leaders in the world industry. Never mind that now. We're just two friends scratching each other's backs, right? I buy your produce and sell it to the people who're interested and you keep a fresh supply of girls ready for whenever I need one."

I kept my ears wide open and made mental notes of whatever Sayid Peterson said. I wanted to complain about him calling me a girl, especially after he had spent the entire morning torturing my boy parts.

He called me a boy-girl. A transvet or something. But why do they keep saying "she" when they refer to me? I know I'm dressed up like a girl and all, but that doesn't make me a girl. I was dressed up like a sheep once, but that didn't turn me into a sheep. It was only a costume I could take off after. Like this is.

I turned my attention back to the apparently very wealthy man sitting next to me as he had started talking again.

"…boys, especially if they are as feminine as this little bugger. It was strangely rewarding for me to play with his small genitals."

"Well, Sayid Peterson. If it was just any odd boy you'd want, I could easily find one for you. But local boys that could be mistaken for a girl are hard to find. They are brought up to be extremely masculine from birth and even in a dress and makeup you'd still be able to tell it's a boy. Their knees are chaffed, their hands dirty and don't get me started on their fingernails. No, I've never seen a boy quite like this one sitting here. His hair is just so delicate, I think that's what tricked me in the first place."

"Pity. I don't mind playing with brown skinned girls, but it wouldn't be a joy to play with a brown skinned boy who'd behave like he was a little king. Like most boys I've seen in this part of the world behaves. It doesn't matter, I have Amalie here to keep me company for now. She still has things to learn about being a good little girl, but it shouldn't take me too long to beat the boy she used to be right out of her system."

"If you were to give me as little as 1000 gold, you can do whatever you wish to her. I'll even safely discard whatever remains after you've finished with her, if that's what it ends up with."

A 1000? You cried for having to pay 20 gold for me! Now, I'm all of a sudden a lot more worth to you?

"Mere pocket change. Yes, 1000 gold will be fine. Even if it is far more than I usually pay for a girl you bring me."

"Like you said yourself, this is one special girl, err, boy. He's from your part of the world, a rarity you'd be hard pressed to find anywhere else. Well, at least one you can use for whatever your heart desires."

"I'll try to arrange so I can spend another seven days here. I have so many things to teach little Amalie here and it would be such a shame if she didn't have enough time to learn them properly. How's that sweetie? You do want to learn how to be a perfect girl, right?"

"She does. She told me that she wanted to be better at being a girl than any real girl is," Ali said before I had a chance to say anything.

"That was not…" I started to object. However Sayid Peterson interrupted me like I hadn't been talking at all.

"Well, that's settled then. Amalie, I've been around a fair bit of girls as Ali will attest to I think."

Ali nodded eagerly.

"I'll spend the next fortnight teaching you skills, you never even knew you'd be able to learn. And you'll be a good little girl and try to really learn each and every one of them extremely well. Because, if you don't, this morning's experience will seem trivial compared to what I'll do to you."

I gasped. Nothing short of killing me would make me think of having that soldering iron touch my worm's head just under the pee hole seem trivial.

It still hurts when I pee!

I wasn't in a position to say no however. These two grown men could easily overpower me and do whatever they wanted with me. I cursed myself again for ever having thought pretending to be a girl would be a way out of this hellhole on Earth. I just hadn't thought it through. Even with all my careful planning, it seemed to me like I'd never walk out of there, not as a boy anyway.

***

I've lost count of the number of times Sayid Peterson put his cock into my body in either opening during his stay. He spent every single one of the fourteen days he was at Ali's farm house with me close by. We would be in his bedroom mostly, though we did spend an awful lot of time in the torture chamber too, since I just couldn't master the skill of deep throating.

"I'm going to have to start wearing ear plugs if you insist on screaming your little lungs out every time I correct your manners, Amalie. Crying and pleading will not make me stop. It's only you who can put a stop to it. It's quite simple really, just do your very best at anything I tell you to do and keep doing it until I tell you to quit."

"But it hurts!" I wailed.

"Yes, I can imagine being paddled hard on the soles of your feet would be quite painful. That's exactly why I do it. Remember the pain you feel now and compare it to the slight discomfort of swallowing my cock whole. Next time, I'm certain you won't be begging me to let you stop."

He wasn't right, I never learned how to deep throat but I managed to deal with the pain I felt when he'd mercilessly fuck my bum. Whenever he told me to push my nose into his pubic hair while having his cock in my mouth was really the worst thing I had to do of them all. Allowing his cock to go deep into my throat. Since I sucked at it so badly, no pun intended, it was what he made me do most of the time. If only his cock had been a little smaller, it would've been quite a lot easier.

And if only my aunt had a cock, I'd have two uncles, like Nikolaj used to say.

I kept trying to find a way to not only leave Ali's farm house but to do so after I had killed everyone in it and set the place on fire. But it was impossible, I tried repeatedly to get the bracelet to unclasp my wrist by telling it to disengage. No matter how I said it, I just wasn't able to match Sayid Peterson's voice print.

I tried to forcibly remove it and got shocked three times over a period of maybe 90 minutes. The last time it shocked the shit out of me, quite literally. That's when I decided to leave it be.

That was another great plan of mine that went like crap. Just let it shock me until it ran out of power. Yeah right! Ali never said it would shock me increasingly worse the more times I'd make it go off.

***

It wasn't until Sayid Peterson finally left after a long night in his bed where I really treated him like a whore would have done. I kissed him with tongue and all while desperately trying to ignore the taste of stale cigars on his breath. I spent ages licking his hairy and nasty bum hole, before I repeatedly gagged myself on his long and fat cock, edging him for more than an hour before finally letting him cum. I had let him see his salty and disgustingly slimy cum inside my mouth before I swallowed it all down with a look on my face as if it had been the tastiest Champagne.

I never allowed him any rest, just kept his cock hard enough to climb on top of him and speared myself on his cock all the time cooing and moaning as if I knew nothing better than the feeling of his cock trying to rearrange all the organs in my body. Fortunately he soon took over and rolled us over to pound himself into me. Fortunately, as it meant I didn't have to coordinate seemingly all of my muscles while remembering to relax and firm up my bum hole around his cock while I went up and down. I only had to make my moans sound like moans of pure bliss and not gasp from pain as he went to town.

Going to town was what he did the next day. Supposedly anyway as I never saw or heard him leave. I was too busy sleeping to notice it. It wasn't until late afternoon I woke to find myself lying alone in his bed. Ali fed me a little of the leftovers from lunch and locked me inside the small room.

Chapter 8

The next morning, Ali woke me early and ordered me to go naked outside. There, he filled two buckets with water from an outside tap and showed me how to carry them with a stick over my shoulders to one of his fields. The two ten litre [2.6 gallons] buckets were heavy once filled with water and reminded me of the time back at the base where I had lugged the plastic jug full of the nasty water from the waterhole. The stick with chains made it easier and it would've been a breeze walking with the buckets if it wasn't because the man had filled them to the brim.

"Don't spill any of the water, girly boy. Water is expensive and the plants need every last drop you can provide them with. You'll have to walk faster than that, they'll die from thirst if you don't pick up speed. That's better but mind the buckets. I've seen little girls do better than you and you said you'd be better than any girl!"

Fuck all the little girls! I can't walk this quickly and not spill.

He led me to the nearest field with small green plants. They gave off an awful smell, not at all like the plants my mum had in the garden before we moved to the base.

"Here, water this one. Use this cup and make sure you get the water as close to the stalk as possible. No, closer to the ground. Otherwise, the water will evaporate before it gets into the soil where it's supposed to go."

I had to bend lower and get closer to the smelly plant. The leaves looked a lot like stinging nettles, but much to my surprise the nine-spoked leaves didn't sting when I brushed my hand against them.

"That's it, one cup per plant. Finish this row and you can have a short break. I'll be monitoring your progress and if you're too slow, I'll tan your hide. Get to it. What are you waiting for?"

I looked at the row of small plants, it seemed to go on forever, it was maybe 150 metres [c. 500 feet] long. For every 30 or so centimetres [1 foot] there was a plant and if every plant was to get 3 decilitres of water I'd have to go back to refill the two buckets a lot of times. I wasn't extremely good at maths, but even I could tell it would take a long time to finish just this one row.

And there's like hundreds of rows just like this one. I can't possibly keep all the plants alive on my own.

"Mister Ali?"

"What now? Don't stall, just get on with it. You have a job to do and you know how to do it. The sooner you get done the sooner you'll be able to rest. Maybe you want to water two full rows before taking a break?"

"No. But…"

"Are you really this stupid or are you only pretending? MOVE or I'll whip your little bony arse until you get moving."

The threat of being whipped got me started. It took me two and a half hours to get the first row of plants watered. My shoulders hurt, my head hurt. Well, everything that could hurt did hurt. Including a number of muscles I hadn't known existed until that day. The blistering sun gave me a sunburn over most of my body, though it was mostly my ears, nose, neck and shoulders that got hit severely by it.

"Hah, a little sunburn like that isn't enough for you to stop working. Put some of this grease on your burns, it'll cool your skin and protect it somewhat. Drink some water, then straight back to work. You've taken much longer than I expected. You have to move quicker or you'll be working all night long to catch up."

***

My second break was around noon. Well, I guess it was noon as I was allowed a bit of food with my water and to sit for ten minutes before being forced back to watering the disgusting smelling plants. In the afternoon, I had another break and by sundown I had managed to water exactly six out of the countless number of rows of plants.

"You did well for such a little boy who wants to be a girl. Maybe you're not so puny as I thought you'd be. I guess only time will tell," the fat man told me as he controlled my work.

"Mister Ali?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm the only one watering these plants, right?"

"Yes. And?"

"There must be like a hundred rows of them and if I can water six rows a day, it would be like two weeks or even three between each plant gets water. Won't they wither and die before I get back to them?"

I was a curious boy and though I couldn't care less for the fatso's nasty plants I didn't want to get punished for them dying simply because there were far too many for me to singlehandedly keep them alive.

"There's an automated underground sprinkler system supplying water to every plant that needs it. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, you'll be back to watering," he told me.

So I'm working myself half to death for no reason at all.

***

When the second day turned out to be a repeat of the first, I decided to test the bracelet on the morning of the third day.

I've had it with watering nasty smelling plants for no reason at all other than it slowly killing me!

It was hard work, 20 litres [c. 5 gallons] of water weigh around 20 kilos [44 lbs.]. Something I didn't know at the time, but for a boy weighing in at max 30 kilos [66 lbs.], it was a staggering weight to lug around. Particularly when I reached the farthest end of the rows. Walking 200 metres [c. 650 feet] trying to balance two full buckets of water wasn't my idea of having a nice time, though I must admit it took my mind off the tightness of the bracelet. Still, on day three I had enough.

He's sitting in his cool house right now. There's no way he can see me and I know where to run to. The mountains are like just over there, surely no further than 5 or 10 km [c. 3 – 6 miles] away from here. I can get there by walking. Even if I have to do it naked. I'll take the buckets full of water with me. That's enough water to last for the entire trip. Must be enough to get at least as far as to the mountains. When I get there, I'll figure out where to go from there.

I put my plan into motion after I had refilled the two buckets one last time. I walked along the row of plants I had been watering and walked past the plant waiting for me to water it. I kept on walking passing the last plant in the row. The bare dirt gave way to wiry brownish coloured grass marking where the fat man's land ended.

Don't go too far. The bracelet will shock you if you do. For sure. I'm like 100 metres [c. 330 feet] from the plants now and it hasn't said or done anything yet.

I kept walking and about 200 metres [c. 660 feet] from the plants, the bracelet, I thought to be either badly programmed or had run out of power, literally screamed at me! My hands were holding onto the stick close to my shoulders and thus the bracelet was only about 15 centimetres [6"] from my poor ear.

"OW!" I cried and stumbled a step forwards, the deafening piercing noise from the bracelet caused me to let the buckets fall to the ground and spill most of the water.

"Motherfuc…" I managed to swear before a sea of pain rushed through my body.

***

I came to being carried by the fat man back towards his farm house.

"…should have realized boys are simply too stupid to listen to warnings. They have to test everything you tell them. Well, a little bit of electricity never harmed anyone," I heard him mutter angrily to himself.

It wasn't very comfortable being carried as he had just thrown me over one of his shoulders and it dug into my hip bone. What was worse, I couldn't lift my head to look where he was taking me, I could only look at the ground and my dangling arms. Thankfully he was careful when he walked into his house making sure I didn't bang into the door frame.

He dropped me on the couch and shut the door to the windowless room he had taken me into. I spent the next ten minutes waiting for my body to react to the orders my brain tried to send out.

"I trust you learnt your lesson now, boy?" He asked when he returned about 20 minutes later.

"Good, then you can go back to work. I've reconfigured the device so you can go fetch the buckets you so carelessly left out there. I increased the range by two metres [6.5 feet]. If you try to go past that, the electric shock you'll get will be the least of your worries."

There's just no way out of this. I have to do what he says. I wonder when or if he'll ever let me go. I can't stay here for the rest of my life! I want to find my family. I need to find them.

Chapter 9

By day seven I had managed to water little more than half of the field. I still thought my work was hard, boring and utterly stupid. The plants seemed to be thriving whether or not I watered them so it was really pointless for the fat man to force me to do it. If it was meant to be some sort of punishment, I'd much rather he'd give me a swift spanking so I could get it over with. It would hurt, yes, but only for a few days.

I mulled over it the entire morning that day while working and when it was time for lunch, I was still considering what to do. I was about ready to swallow my pride and do my best to seduce him. I had noticed him looking at my naked rear end as I'd balance the two buckets full of water past where he'd be sitting in the shade. The past few days he had started spending more time just sitting there looking at me walking back and forth.

I purposely tried to jiggle my buttocks just a little when I walked by him the next time and I could see his interest pick up.

Maybe I can make him think of me more as a girl than a useless boy. I'm sure he wouldn't make a girl do this hard work.

Now knowing I had him interested I started dancing the best I could while having the heavy buckets of water hanging by my side. I must've looked awfully silly, now that I look back on the episode with older eyes, but then, as a young inexperienced boy I thought I was performing like an erotic dancer. All I know is that it did have an effect on the fat man.

"Damn boy, you're making me hot and troubled watching your cute little buns bouncing around like that. Get back to working before you spill all of the water, you useless idiotic boy! I'm not like Sayid Peterson. I know you're a boy and not a girl!" I heard him say.

Fuck! I'm trying to act like a girl here and you're too blind to see it?

I went and watered the plants I could with the water from the two buckets. I had quickly learnt I had to alternate between the two buckets otherwise I couldn't keep them balancing on my shoulders. In the beginning I had walked to a plant, put the buckets on the ground, watered the plant, gingerly picked up the buckets and walked the 30 cm [1 foot] to the next plant. To repeat it all over, though I'd dip the cup into the other bucket. Then shuffle to the next plant.

It had been way too slow and I had come up with a better idea of how to make it quicker. As soon as I had worked out how many plants I could water with the about 9.5 litres [2.5 gallons] per bucket I'd manage to carry to the field from the outside tap, I'd place one bucket at the first plant that was to be watered. Then I'd walk with the other bucket down the row while counting each plant I passed. One bucket of water was enough for about 30 plants and that's where I'd put down the second bucket. Then I'd double back and start watering plants from the first bucket, putting it down every meter [c. 3 feet] or so.

When I found out the distance I had to walk with the second bucket it got even faster. I had to walk about 20 paces while carrying the full bucket. So it wasn't long until I passed the fat man lounging in the shade, wearing his mirror-like sunglasses. I didn't dance this time, but I did my best to walk like a model on a catwalk.

***

My mum had taken us kids to these extremely boring fashion shows that both my mum and my little sister seemed to love. I couldn't see the point of having to sit quietly while one tall skinny woman after another walked in a funny way only to stop and turn every five metres or so. And everybody clapped when every one of the women made it to the end of the catwalk before they'd walk back. I mean, if they had been jumping through like rings of fire or something that made it hard to reach the end it would've been worth watching. I would've clapped much more honestly at their performance then. Especially if they would've managed a real tricky course in those high-heeled shoes they wore.

What's even stranger, my mum would've never fit into even one of those outfits. You'd have to stretch her like half a metre [c. 20"] for her to be as tall as those women were. Maybe then she would've been as skinny as them, too.

But, having been dragged along to one boring fashion show after another had taught me how women walked. And while it hadn't done anything for me, neither at the time I was at the shows nor when the teens told me how they envied me for having been at them, I knew it was considered sexy. At least that was what the teens had said.

***

With the buckets now empty, it wasn't too hard walking on tiptoes like I was wearing the too tight red high-heeled shoes, Ali had forced me to wear on the first night at his farm house. It made my buttocks flex more too, than when I had walked with the buckets full of water staggering under their weight.

"Stop prancing around like that. You're no girl and you'll never be one. You're only slowing yourself down. You still have 4 rows to go today. Maybe I should make it five or six? Would you like that, useless?"

Crestfallen I made my way to the tap and filled up the buckets. The slow running water gave me time to think.

Maybe I'm overdoing it. He looked at me when I didn't pretend to be a girl. He might be more interested in my bum if I'm just a naked boy that sort of looks like a girl from behind?

I had to try it and it worked. I could literally feel his eyes piercing holes in my buttocks when I walked past him the next time.

"Good, now you're back to working like you should've been all of the time, boy."

At least he upgraded me from being useless to a boy.

I watered the plants with the two buckets in record time, wishing I had two cups so I could water two plants at a time and hurried back to where his sunbed was sitting. The sunbed was there, but the fat man wasn't.

What does a boy have to do for a man to see him like a girl around here? It isn't like I even want to be a girl! I'm a fucking boy! I do not want him to lust for me.

He had returned by the time I walked past the sunbed with the buckets full of water again. I had now pushed aside all thoughts of making him more interested in my body, I only wanted to finish watering the current row of plants so I could take a short break and drink some water myself. The water I was feeding the plants wasn't really safe for drinking. And I'd only get a half litre bottle of water from the fat man per row I had finished watering.

I only had to water three more rows and I'd be able to eat and go to sleep. I already longed for lying on the uncomfortable couch being able to close my eyes and dream of happier times.

***

I'm a boy and real boys don't willingly do those things with men. Certainly not a fatty like him. No, I'll work as hard as he wants me to, but I'll never be a girl for him!

I had stopped my pathetic attempts of pretending to be a tall skinny girl and shuffled on as quickly as I could under the weight of the two buckets filled with water.

"Wait up, beautiful!" I heard the man say behind me. Close behind me.

Aw, crap! I just had to push my luck didn't I? He thinks I'm somehow interested in him now. I'm not! I only want to get to the next plant waiting for a cup of water. Please, God of Mercy, make him lose his interest in me. Make him go back inside his house and forget he ever saw my rear end flex. You can punish me for being so blatant, I'll accept any punishment if only you make him forget I ever did something like that.

I could feel his hand touch my bum. He didn't just hold it, no he stroked it almost tenderly. I tried twisting and turning my body away from his hand but the weight of the water slowed me down and the fear of spilling too much of it didn't improve on my agility. I tried to walk faster but he had no problems keeping up with me, all the time touching my bum and talking dirty to me.

Filthy is the word my mum would use if she could hear him right now.

"Ooh baby, you have such a fine arse. It's so firm and the way you made it jiggle just now tells me you want a man to notice it. Oh, you're playing hard to get, or maybe you're suddenly feeling all bashful now that you've gotten my attention? I'll show you how a real man treats his girl! Forget Sayid Peterson, I'm not like him."

"I'm a b-boy!" I told him trying to keep my voice from trembling.

"Maybe you are, but from behind you look every bit like a girl. A mighty pretty one too with a firm and narrow arse. Put the buckets down and let's go inside. I'll make you my girl. Hell, when I've finished with you, you'll wish you had been born a girl. I'll bathe you and give you a nice deep tissue massage so you're all relaxed for a long lovely evening in my bed. What do you think of that, my gorgeous girl?"

"I'm a boy! Not your girl. Stop touching my bum like that!" I shouted and let the buckets fall to the ground. Without the heavy weight of the water I was able to outrun the man.

"Fine! Have it your way then," I heard him say behind me. He sounded sad, but then I heard him bark out one single word: "SHOCK!"

The bracelet from hell responded almost instantaneously and squealed from where it sat on my wrist. With a short-lived shriek of my own I swear I could feel something like a needle pierce into my skin under the bracelet before I blacked out from the electricity running through my body.

***

When I woke up again my body felt like it had been run over by a freight train. Well, I think that's what it would feel like as I haven't actually been run over by one, not yet. And I don't intend to try just to be able to confirm my statement. Every muscle felt like I had kept it tensed up for hours. Only thing worse than that was I couldn't do anything to work out the kinks I felt.

From what I could gather I was lying on my back in his bathroom. What had sounded like a waterfall to me, turned out to be the bathtub slowly being filled with water from the faucet.

"Ah, good. You've rejoined the world of the living. You were out for a good 15 minutes, I thought maybe the bracelet had killed you this time. I know you can't do anything for a while, other than listen of course, but not to worry, I'll take good care of you, Amalie. The longer you keep me happy like a real girl would, the less you'll have to water my plants."

I blinked at his words. I couldn't do anything but that, couldn't even force my eyes shut.

I need to get that bracelet off at the first chance I get, otherwise I'll never be able to get away from this creep.

I had no choice but to let him pick me up and place me in the bathtub. The water in it was warm this time and my completely relaxed body floated just below the surface.

I had so many problems trying to float in the swimming pool. And here I'm floating without even trying to!

"Oh, my sweet little princess, your true beauty is hiding underneath layer upon layer of dirt. It will be a while before I'll be done washing you, but I'm sure we'll both enjoy it. The milky whiteness of your inner thighs is simply stunning and the stiffness jutting up from your midsection does tell me you're a boy, but it isn't really big enough to completely ruin the picture of you being a girl. Damn, but it's stiff too." His words sounded strange with my ears under water, but I could pick up most of what he said.

I don't know if the electricity had caused my worm to go all stiff, but it did feel like it was going to burst any second. I wanted to slap his hands off of it, he was washing it even more intensely than Abiha ever had. I had to lay there in the tub, steaming from rage and humility, unable to move while he fondled and stroked it with one of his hands. The feelings from his manipulation felt awful, yet bizarrely nice too. My young boy mind was seriously conflicted over the whole experience.

I don't want him touching me but it feels nice. I'm going to pee soon if he doesn't stop. No, keep going, don't stop! You can't stop, not now!

The nice feelings quickly left my body when he stopped touching my worm and began washing the rest of my body. It left me feeling ashamed of myself. I had practically begged for the man to keep doing what he had done to my worm even though I didn't want him touching me. If he had died right then, I wouldn't have felt sorry for him, not in the least. I certainly would rather have him die than experiencing him washing my hole. It didn't feel nice at all though I can't say it hurt me when he worked a finger into my bum.

"Even fully relaxed your hole is nice and tight. It'll be pure delight plowing your tight hole for the first time. Now, I understand why Sayid Peterson wanted to fuck you even when he knew you were a boy. He fucked you, didn't he?"

"Y-yes," I stuttered in a weak voice.

Finally!

"Just between you and me, there's no real joy in fucking a girl after he has finished with her. It seems like part of them dies when he claims them. Never mind that, you're not a girl, and I'll show you what love is all about. You won't die from being claimed by me. On the contrary, you'll experience what life is supposed to be."

"What are you going to do to me?" I had to ask even if I wasn't sure I really wanted to know for sure.

"Well, like any real gentleman should do, first I'll cook a nice dinner for the both of us, I'll even open a bottle of Sayid Peterson's fine wine for us to share. Then we'll share a bath and when we're both nice and clean, we'll retreat to my bedroom. In my bed, I'll teach you what being a girl really means. It'll be an eye opener… well, your eyes surely won't be the only parts of your body that'll open wide."

I slowly regained control of my body and the first thing I did was firmly clench my bum hole up around the finger still moving in and out of it. I didn't like the way it made me feel at all.

It feels kind of nice! But I don't want it.

"My cock will be happy if you do that once he's deep inside of your hole, my princess," he said while he slowly removed his finger and used the very tip of it to tickle the edges of my bum hole.

I sighed inaudibly as I looked at the bracelet. I couldn't do anything as long as it sat there reminding me of who was in charge. I allowed him to dry my hair while I used another towel to wipe down my legs and thighs. Still naked, I helped him make dinner, which reminded me of when I had helped my mum by peeling potatoes or cutting up lettuce.

***

If helping the fat man prepare dinner reminded me of much happier times, dinner was an experience I'd never had before. Sure, I had eaten beef before, even had a vague memory of being spoon-fed by my mum, but being fed by a fat man while I sat naked on his lap wasn't something I had done before.

Father always told me to go put on some clothes if I tried to sit naked at the table.

I think I had more than half of the bottle of champagne Ali had opened. The more I had of it, the more relaxed and quite joyful I became.

After we had finished eating, I tried to object to learning how to inhale the quite nasty smoke coming from a large shisha, but Ali insisted and I guess I wasn't too hard to convince in my drunken stupor. The smoke made me cough quite badly though and it made my mind swim even more than the alcohol had.

"I think you're ready to be turned into a proper girl now, Amalie," I heard Ali's voice say. It sounded like he was talking into an old oil drum and his echoing words made me giggle.

"I'm not a girl, Ali," I tried to tell him. The sound of my voice seemed to come from somewhere far from me.

That's silly, my mouth is like right here, ow, that's my eye, haha, not my… what was it I was trying to touch? Oh boy, I'm certainly feeling very strange now.

I didn't object to Ali picking me up and carrying me like a baby to his bedroom. The short trip there felt like I was on-board a small rowing boat in a huge storm but I enjoyed the sensation of being on a rollercoaster. It was fun!

"I think I got you a bit too hammered tonight, Amalie. Let's bypass the bathing and go straight to making love."

"You're the man, Ali," I blurted out. I meant he was the boss or something, I think.

"Damned right I am. And tonight, you'll be the girl."

"Okie dokey," I giggled at my own words.

***

I don't remember much of what took place in his bed after that, but I do remember waking up late the next morning. I felt sick and had a splitting headache and my bum hole was aching too. I somehow managed to get to the bathroom and kneel in front of the hole in the floor normally used for pooing into. I used it for other things that morning and afterwards I still felt like crap. It only helped very little rinsing my mouth out with water.

I only wanted to go back to sleep but I didn't want to go back to Ali's bed. The fat man had been lying on his back snoring like an elephant when I woke. I stumbled in to lay on the uncomfortable couch in the small room and surprisingly quickly I fell asleep again.

***

"You sure squealed like a little piglet when I made you my girl last night, boy. But, you truly seemed to enjoy it a lot after you got used to having my large man cock deep inside your little girlish bum," Ali told me after I woke later that afternoon.

I blushed from the accusation of having enjoyed it, but I couldn't really deny it as I couldn't remember anything that had happened from when he had dumped me onto his bed until I woke from a desperate need to barf up everything inside of my stomach.

If he really put it inside my bum it's no wonder I'm feeling awfully tender now. His cock looked so big this morning when I woke and saw him lying on his back next to me.

"If you behave like that tonight as well, you won't be watering the plants tomorrow," I heard Ali promise me.

***

That night we had dinner and afterwards we shared a bath. I had to not only allow him wash every part of my body, I had to wash his hairy and fat body too. His cock was a lot larger than my little worm and the difference only got so much easier to tell when both his cock and my own worm got stiff. I tried to prevent my worm from growing, but it was like it had a mind of its own and it throbbed when he washed it.

Though, I didn't want to enjoy it, I couldn't help but think it felt wondrously nice to have his fingers all over my stiff worm, it made me shudder when he'd tickle just under the head of it. I didn't have to pretend not to like it when he stuck a finger inside my bum hole. It hurt and the soap made it sting.

"You're dirty back here, Amalie," he informed me, "We had better flush out the sewer before I put my cock in there again. I don't want to mess up the sheets and I truly hate making love in the bathroom. Go squat over the hole so I can clean your little cute, but messy bum out."

The evening in his bed was something I'd rather not explain in details as it was so humiliating for a son of a Lieutenant Colonel in the Royal Normarkian Army. But, for you to understand how I later did what I felt compelled to do, I suppose I have to give you a rundown of the dreadful three and a half hours I ended up pretending to be Amalie in Ali's bed. Wearing the bracelet and with the promise of a day off the following day if I did my part of being a girl to perfection, I saw no option but to let him have his way with me and fake my enjoyment throughout it all.

"Amalie, when a girl really likes her man, she will honour his cock by licking and sucking on it. She'll do this for as long as the man wants her to do it and never take her mouth off of it until he tells her it's okay to do so," he had explained to me like he was a teacher and I was his willing pupil.

I got the underlying message and thankful for having just washed his cock myself and therefore knew it had to be clean, I got started. I had to act my role in this weird play to perfection. With a gusto I didn't even know I had, I slobbered all over his stiff piece of meat right from the fat head and quite close to where it joined his body in a thick bush of pubic hair. Just like Sayid Peterson had taught me.

The taste isn't so bad, it's sort of like licking my finger I guess.

However it wasn't long until licking it wasn't enough, Ali told me to open my mouth, mind my teeth and suck on his cock. I couldn't get much of it inside before I felt like choking to death, but heeding his words from earlier I tried the best I could to ignore the signals from my body. When it got really bad and I thought I'd spew all over him, I'd back off just a bit at the last second. When I had calmed myself a little I went back to the disgusting job I had at hand. Quite literally too, as I held his cock in one hand while massaging his big eggs with the other.

He made me do this for way too long before he told me to lay on his bed on my knees and hands. I felt his hands on my bum cheeks and he used his thumbs to spread them.

This is it. Now he'll truly make me his girl. Like Peterson did.

I gasped from surprise when he started licking my bum hole and push at it with what could only be the tip of his tongue. Unless he had suddenly grown another hand, it couldn't be other than that since his thumbs were still almost painfully keeping my bum cheeks spread far from each other. He licked me for half an hour, before he backed off and had me on my knees in front of him, paying homage to his cock again. This went on for quite some time, alternating between me sucking his cock and him licking my back door.

He didn't warn me when he instead of sticking his tongue into my back door put his cock hard inside. I was too busy trying to block out the pain I felt from my bottom to think of anything else. It was true living hell I endured for the first ten minutes of him fucking me like a madman until my bum hole had adapted somewhat to the large intruder. It still took me another ten minutes before I could concentrate on my plan.

I was only nine and hadn't been to school for about eight months, but I did remember some from the science lessons. It was time to put what had so far only been theory for me to the test.

While Ali was busy thinking I was his girl and not caring much about my wellbeing I reached over to the bracelet with my right hand.

This had better be working! I'll fucking kill Mr Dressen if it turns out it doesn't work. [Mr Dressen was the teacher who taught science at the all-boys school where I had been a pupil.]

I grabbed hold of the polished metal of the bracelet and tried to get a really good grip of it when my fingers slipped.

Damn! Fucking hell and curse all the Gods!

My fingers kept slipping on the bracelet since they were so sweaty and probably had quite a bit of my own saliva on them. Desperately I tried working my fingernails in between the bracelet and my wrist. That didn't work, I only managed to scratch my skin until it started bleeding, making it even harder to get a proper grip on the darn thing. Ali still hadn't noticed anything I was doing, his thrusting into me and his quite passionate moaning never stopped. He had a firm grip on my hips and pushed and pulled at me seemingly effortless in time with his own thrusting.

Why is it easier for him to hold me tight when I can't get a fucking grip on this motherfucking bracelet?!

It was hard to do anything but hold onto the sheets while the huge man pushed and pulled at my lithe body and I was about to give up.

NO! I can't stop now. He'll only do this again tomorrow and then the next day and the next again. Like Sayid Peterson did, only Ali won't ever leave.

I almost lost what little balance I had when I first wiped the sweat and other fluids off the fingers on my right hand, then had to get down on my elbows in order to get the sheet close enough to the bracelet.

"Oh yes! Amalie, you know what a man likes! Now I can fuck you even deeper!" I heard Ali pant. He put his head down next to mine fortunately on my right hand side. While he fucked me like a rabbit, which made my relatively simple task of wiping down the bracelet much harder, I pulled frantically on the sheet. I spent precious seconds that seemed like hours at the time, finding a dry part of the sheet and used it to wipe at the bracelet.

"What are you doing, Amalie?" I heard him ask, this time his voice went straight into my left ear.

I didn't answer, just moved the sheet away from the bracelet and with a desperate outcry I tried to rip it off my wrist.

"No, don't!" Ali shouted stricken by panic, but his shout was partway drowned by the shrilly squeak from the bracelet. I braced myself, expected to be shocked like crazy like I had experienced before.

I felt a piercing pain on the top of my wrist behind the faceplate of the bracelet and a sort of burning sensation went all the way from my left wrist straight through my body and to my bum. From there the jolt of electricity went into Ali. I didn't pass out from the pain though the current raised all the small hairs on my left arm.

Ali screamed louder than the bracelet by then but it didn't stop the bracelet from sending out several jolts of electricity with increasing power. Since I still hadn't passed out, the bracelet kept screeching and upping the current it sent out. After five shocks I actually hoped for it to knock me out, the electricity going through my body felt like balls of fire and it was much worse than I had expected it to be. I had no choice but to let it zap me and Ali for as long as it wished or until it had killed me and possibly him as well. I didn't dare think of the third option. That it would keep zapping until it ran out of power.

It had only taken about ten seconds for the bracelet to send out the first five jolts of electricity.

I'm going to die before Ali passes out! The hairs on my arm are smoking!

The sixth jolt of electricity felt twice as bad as the fifth one had been, but it made Ali's screaming stop quite abruptly. I felt him slide off my body, his large cock slipped out of my burning hole and he tumbled to the floor behind me. I heard the seventh screech from the bracelet before I was knocked out.

I have no idea of how long I was passed out before I blinked my eyes open again. It must have been for a very long time as the sun was trying what it could to break through the shutters in front of the windows to Ali's bedroom. It blinded me and I had no way to prevent it. It wasn't until probably another two hours had passed by that I could twitch my fingers. All the time I was lying sprawled out face down on Ali's bed. I feared for what I'd see when I would finally be able to turn myself around.

***

I was afraid Ali had woken before me and only waited for me to wake up before he'd probably kill me. I hadn't needed worrying so much, as I found him lying on the floor, quite dead, when I finally was able to turn around on the bed and face him. He was the first person to die from my actions. I looked at the bracelet when it sounded off another time.

Oh no, you're not shocking me again! I've only just started moving from the last time you motherfucker!

The screech wasn't as high pitched as the others had been and it quickly lowered in pitch and volume until it completely died out. It hadn't shocked me and to my great and utter amazement I heard a loud click from the bracelet and it simply fell off from my wrist. I heard the loud clonk as it hit the floor, but couldn't believe neither my eyes nor my ears.

I didn't like the look of my wrist where the bracelet had sat, my skin was quite severely burned and the two fanglike electrodes that had pushed themselves repeatedly into my wrist had made two rather large bleeding holes. It took me some time to realize Ali didn't believe in first aid kits, there were none to be found in his house, and I had to cut a strip off a clean sheet to make an impromptu bandage for my wrist.

To my great and utter dismay I found my precious wristwatch broken into small pieces and carelessly thrown into a bin. I had to weep for my loss that felt so much worse than a cheap 5 gold watch should've been able to cause. I think that is what drove me to my next action. It certainly didn't do anything to lessen the hatred I felt towards the place and its belated owner.

***

Before I walked away from Ali's farm I spent the rest of the day watering his plants. Not with water, no, this time I poured diesel oil onto them. It took me some time to get the diesel burning, actually it wasn't until I found some lamp oil I managed to get it lighted up. The smoke from the burning plants was almost as bad as the stench of diesel, but I cheered when they were eaten by the flames. When the plants had been reduced to smouldering bits I turned my attention to the farm house.

I stood at a distance taking in the sight of the burning farm house for a long moment before I turned to face the mountains. I didn't know what would await me up there, but I felt every bit ready to take on any challenge I'd meet along my way.

Even if I'm wearing a girl's dress. I'm a boy named Søren and I'm wearing a pink dress. It doesn't make me a girl. It was the least girlish of all the dresses Ali had and it's my size. But I'm still a boy! My name is Søren and I'm a boy!

"You hear me? I'm a BOY! My name is Søren!" I shouted as loudly as I could, though there were no one near to hear me.

Chapter 10

Fuck! Those mountains must be bloody huge!

I had been walking through the night and for the next two days, only pausing when I absolutely had to. I wanted to get as far away from the farm house as quickly as possible and I kept cursing my left foot for slowing me down. It had been so long since I had been rescued from the rubble of my home at the base. My foot had gotten stuck under the ceiling that had ended up on top of me. The broken bone inside the foot had never been properly taken care of and while it had grown back together it hadn't done so correctly. Walking made it tender, even if I walked slowly, and I wasn't exactly trying to walk slowly while fleeing from what had been Ali's farm.

Thinking about your foot won't make it any better. Yes, it fucking hurts, but seriously Søren, an aching foot is probably the least of your problems right now. You need to find water and quickly too!

In my hurried escape from the farm house I had managed to leave without the bare necessities. The lack of water was one thing, lack of food to eat was another. Wearing a pink girl's dress didn't exactly make me feel any better other than not having to streak around fully naked.

"Let's face it, walking around naked would raise more questions than wearing this dress. It isn't too uncomfortable either," I mumbled.

I guess I could add talking to myself to my increasingly longer list of things troubling me. But, I was the only one I could talk to. The narrow road I was following was devoid of traffic and the houses were few and very far apart.

That's not so strange really, who would ever want to live here? There'd be absolutely nothing to do out here. Other than to hurry like heck to where more interesting things take place.

"And you, you fucking foot, isn't making it any easier to hurry. You may as well stop complaining, I'm not about to stop walking. We need to get to the mountains."

The mountains were still far away and what to my young inexperienced eyes had looked like a 10, maybe 15 max, kilometres [6 to 9 miles] walk which in any event would've been quite long but not impossibly so, had turned into at least twice the distance. I've absolutely no idea of how fast I was able to walk, however it couldn't have been much more than 10 km per day. The first night I had taken short breaks for every 1000 steps I took. By day two, I could only walk half of that and the time I spent resting before forcing myself to carry on increased.

Just before day turned to night on that second day of being a free boy, the road made a turn and started following the path of a small creek. The water in it turned out to be safe to drink, which was fortunate as by that time I had no option but to drink from it. I hadn't brought a plastic bottle with me, so I couldn't squirt the water into my bum. It was fresh, clean and very cold, much too cold to actually bathe in it, so I used my hands to scoop up water and washed my body bit by bit.

"How's that for a change, foot? Feels nice sitting in a cold stream, eh?"

My foot didn't answer my question. I hadn't expected it to either, but I could tell it felt nice even if it made me shiver from the cold. Reluctantly I pulled both of my feet back out of the water before I curled up and went to sleep.

***

The next morning I drank from the stream again and thus with one of my needs satisfied I continued my journey towards the mountains. During my walk the stream would at times part from the road only to meet up with it again a bit later. It was at one of these split ups I saw the first sign of civilization.

A bicycle stood there next to the stream, held up by its training wheels fitted on either side of it. I looked around for its owner, but couldn't find him. I knew it had to be a boy's bicycle as it was blue. The boy himself had to be somewhat younger than me as the bicycle was quite smaller than the one I had to leave behind in the city when we moved to the army base.

I looked longingly at the bicycle when I walked past where it was standing between road and stream exactly like I had found it. It would've been so easy to take it and certainly it would've made my journey much less strenuous, not to mention a bit quicker too. But I felt good about myself.

Certainly the little boy who owns it would be really sad if he returned to find his bike missing. Besides it is much too small for me. I'm not a five year-old like that bike's owner is. I wonder where he is though. Oh shit! Maybe he is trapped in the stream and about to drown!

I went back to the bicycle and spent about half an hour checking the small stream. I even went inside it and waded a couple of hundred meters [220 yards] in both directions from where the bicycle sat. Fortunately I didn't discover a little body floating facedown in the water, but it still meant I was wondering where the boy was when I resumed my journey towards the mountains.

"He can't be far. Who'd ride his bike all the way out here and just leave it like that? There's nothing wrong with it, not even a flat tyre. Well, it isn't exactly brand new, but still…." I muttered to myself as I walked.

I kept stopping and looking back at the bicycle, hoping to see a little boy come running to fetch it.

"It's so weird. Well, with all the other things I've been through, I guess this is the least weird thing that has happened so far. Still, I wouldn't have left my bicycle behind like that. If I had done that with mine, father would have spanked my bum so hard, then he'd spend the next hour reminding me about money not growing on trees. Though apples and other fruits do grow on trees and they can be harvested and traded for money."

Having a new thing to talk to myself about made the next kilometre [0.6 miles] go by fairly quick. I got relatively close to a small house, sitting not far from the narrow road with a low white fence marking the borders of the garden around it. I stopped dead in my tracks, this was as close as I had ever gotten to a house during my escape from the farm. Earlier I had always walked in a wide half-circle around the house so I wouldn't be spotted by anyone living there.

"Those two houses didn't look anything like this one though. They were like rundown ruins compared to this little house. What should I do now? I would have to walk back quite far to go around this one. I'm just so hungry I want to walk right up and knock on the door and beg for food. Nah, I wouldn't beg, I'd ask politely if I could do something for whoever lives there for a bit of food."

I was so close to the house I thought it stupid to start walking back. If someone was there and saw me turn around and walk away, they'd immediately think I was up to no good. When I got closer I could see the house was indeed small, but looked well-kept. The low fence needed a touch up here and there, but the paint wasn't exactly peeling in large layers from it.

"Do I just walk up to the door and knock or would it be better to sit out here and wait to see if they get home?" I wondered out loud.

I wasn't sure what the best approach would be.

"Do you always talk to yourself like that?" I heard a voice from the other side of the low fence ask me.

I nearly wet myself, it caught me so much by surprise that I wasn't alone anymore.

"No…" I said, then stopped myself when the owner of the voice stood up so I could see her. It was a girl, clearly older than me, but not by a lot. However, her beauty left me speechless. She looked so pretty with her long straight black hair and deep brown eyes.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing," I croaked out, then swallowed, "I've just never seen anyone so pretty like you before."

It sounded corny, I know, but it was the truth.

"Are you lesbian?" She asked cocking her head to the side.

"What…? No!" It took me a short moment to remember what the word meant.

The teens back at the base had talked about girls liking other girls and how hot they thought that was. Boys liking boys was however very disgusting, which they wasted no opportunity to remind me of after I had told them I only liked boys, not girls. I hadn't meant I liked boys like that, you know sexually, I was much too young to be into that sort of thing. But that was what they teased me with. It was what had led Mikkel to demand I push a whiteboard marker pen into my bum, so I'd know what a boy would feel like when he let another boy take him.

He was wrong though, it doesn't feel like that at all. Well, at least not when a man sticks it…

"Pity. But, why are you calling me pretty then? You're a girl yourself," my newfound goddess said.

"Sh…oot, no, this isn't mine. I'm actually a boy," I said while holding out the pink dress I wore. It was still quite wet from when I had went into the creek to look for the missing boy.

"Why are you wearing a dress, if you're a boy and who are you, where are you from? I haven't seen you before."

"It was the only thing I could find to wear. My name is Søren. I'm nine and I came from there," I explained and pointed in the direction I had come from.

"Soren? That's a strange name. But from out there? There's nothing out there."

"There are two houses and a whole lot of road to walk. I've walked for the past three days, only found water yesterday and haven't eaten since I started walking," I told her, feeling a bit proud of myself, even though I was wearing the most embarrassing piece of clothing any boy could've worn.

"You didn't eat for three days?" she asked.

"No."

"Why didn't you say so straight away? Here I've been asking you questions while you could have been eating. Come, quickly. I'll find something for you to eat."

"Uh. I didn't say that hoping you'd feed me," I quickly said. Even though it was one of the reasons for walking up to the house in the first place, I felt like things were happening just a wee bit too fast.

"Never mind that, come on in. We have some leftovers from dinner last night. I'll heat them for you. It's lamb stew with sweet potatoes. It's real nice!"

My stomach chose that very moment to painfully rumble. It seemed quite desperate to be filled with food.

Chapter 11

While Ismat, my newfound Goddess, cooked for me I munched on dates and figs and other fruits from a large fruit basket she had placed in front of me and told me to help myself to whatever I wanted from it. She wanted to know everything I had been through, but I didn't want to tell her. I wanted to forget everything that had happened from when I had walked into the apartment back at the base to that very moment where I was eating a very hot, very large and extremely tasty portion of stew.

Ismat seemed to love hearing me telling her how much I enjoyed the food, so I kept praising it while I ate. I loved the way her face lit up when she smiled and if I hadn't been so busy shovelling food into my mouth, I probably would've just sat there staring into her large brown eyes. As it was, I didn't put the fork down until I had eaten every last piece of food on the plate.

If I had been alone or in the company of any other person I would have licked the plate clean, too. However I wanted to make a good first impression on Ismat so I tried to act older than my nine years. She had told me while she stood in front of the stove that she was twelve and had a six years old little brother, Jabir. The rest of the family was Halim, the father and Latifah, the mum.

"You'll see them when they come home. It might be better if I find something else for you to wear so they won't think you're a girl like I did," Ismat said.

***

She showed me to the bathroom where she lingered long enough for me to undress shyly in front of her.

"I've seen it all before. I've washed Jabir since he was just a baby," her statement didn't do anything to calm me. She might very well had seen her brother naked, but she hadn't seen me.

She did cook for me. It won't harm me if she does see me. She even warmed a big pot of water for my bath. Behave yourself!

The last bit was for my worm. I didn't want it to embarrass me by suddenly rearing its head up. I quickly pulled the dress over my head and climbed into the tub where I deftly plonked down to sit on my bum. She had seen my worm, but only for a few seconds and that was okay with me.

"If you start washing yourself, I'll go find something for you to wear, and then I'll come back to help you with the rest."

"Thanks, Ismat, but I do know how to bathe on my own."

"Who said anything about bathing?" She asked and left before I had a chance to ask what she meant by that.

If I hurry, I'll be done bathing by the time she returns. Then I can just put on whatever it is she wants me to wear.

I washed my body in record time and was busy trying to wash my hair without getting the soapy water into my eyes when Ismat returned and like it was second nature for her she took over for me.

"Lean your head back and keep your eyes closed."

She had me stand in the tub so she could inspect my body for cleanliness and shook her head before she started to wash me. Her standards were apparently quite a lot higher than mine since she spent an awful long time washing every bit of my body. The water was quite cold and dirty before she deemed me clean enough.

"Put that on when you've wiped yourself off. I'll go make some tea, you're shivering."

I left the bathroom after putting on the blue tunic, which made me feel so much more like a boy than the pink dress had, and entered the kitchen where Ismat sat.

"You do look a lot better now, Soren."

I had tried to teach her the correct way of saying my name but it seemed impossible for her to make the right sound. Instead of pissing her off, I just ended up accepting her mispronunciation of it.

"Thanks for lending me the tunic."

"You look like you're ready for your Khatan," Ismat smiled at me, "you only need the white hat and a white scarf now."

"What's Khatan?" I had to ask. I had never heard the word before.

"It's what makes boys into men."

That's what Um and Abiha talked about.

"What happens at Khatan then?" I asked while I desperately hoped Ismat wouldn't laugh at me for not knowing already.

"It's when they remove the hood from your spear," she explained matter-of-factly.

"You mean… this spear?" I asked and tried to nonchalantly point to my midsection.

"Unless you have any other spears?"

"What do you mean by removing the hood?"

I could easily move the hood back and bare the head of my worm, I did so every time I washed it. I didn't understand why I'd need someone else to move it back for me. Though, it had felt somewhat nice when Abiha, and Ismat just then, had done it and washed my worm for me. Not to forget when Ali had done it, but I was trying to forget what had taken place at his farm.

"Cutting it off… Don't they do that where you come from?"

I stared wide-eyed in shock at her.

"No!" I shook my head, "Well, at least I hope not, I've never heard of it. Why do they do it here?"

"It's what the script says. That to be true to God, the skin has to come off. Or something. I'm only a girl, Soren, I don't know why they do it. Saif told me it hurt, but he was proud of having it done and became a man."

"I don't want mine removed. My spear is just fine like it is."

"I'm sure. It's kind of small but it looked nice."

"Thanks, I guess." I said while I blushed sheepishly.

"Help me clean up after your meal. My parents and Jabir will return soon."

***

Ismat's parents and little brother returned not long after we had cleaned not only the kitchen but also the bathroom. There were no signs of me having eaten and bathed after. Well, not unless you had a look at the fruit basket and knew exactly what had been in it before I had been offered some of the fruits or checked the fridge hoping for some of the really tasty lamb stew I had eaten all of. Fortunately neither of the three were hungry for food, only for information about why I was there at their house.

I didn't get to tell them much, other than I was trying to get to the mountains and I guess my mentioning the discovery of a small blue bicycle with training wheels more than a kilometre [0.6 miles] from their house took their minds off of my status as a refugee for a while.

Jabir wasn't too happy when his father's attention shifted from me to him. Unless his painful punch to my nuts was his way of saying thanks for reminding him of where he had left his bike. Jabir wasn't punished for hurting me, he was just sent out to fetch his bike, while Latifah did what she could to comfort me. She checked my nuts for damages, told me they were fine and the pain would fade shortly.

When Jabir returned with his bike, he wasn't angry with me anymore. When Halim told his son he'd be sharing his bedroll with me, he put a big smile on his face. It was like he was just handed the best toy in the world. The six year-old actually cheered loudly and nobody did anything to stop him when he ran around pumping his hands into the air like he had won a big victory. I looked over at Ismat but she just shrugged almost imperceptibly and broke eye contact by looking at the floor in front of her.

I had to smile at the little runt when he stopped in front of me and looked up. He lifted his arms just like my little sister did when she'd ask for me to carry her. Jabir wasn't exactly a four year-old though, he was quite heavy but seemed to enjoy when I had to put my hands right on his bum to hold him up. He clung to me for the remainder of the day, either by sitting in my lap or silently demanding I'd piggyback him to wherever I walked with Ismat.

Not even when I'd go to the toilet would he leave me be. No, he'd join me with a tinkle of his own and one time he observed closely when I had to squat to poop.

"That's a big one!" He said impressively after he had a look into the hole where I had just went, making me blush fiercely.

When Jabir was finally ready to go to bed, he insisted I'd help him undress, which was quickly done since he only wore a tunic, and that I'd tell him a story to make him fall asleep.

I told him the story of the little prince who hurt a sorcerer by hitting him in the nuts. The sorcerer turned the little prince into the smallest of pebbles and put him into a deep hole in the ground. There the prince had plenty of time to think of what he had done wrong since he wouldn't resurface for a thousand years. I hoped the story would make Jabir scared but he only laughed at it and said it was a silly story. At least he went to sleep on his bedroll after the story and I could go for a tinkle.

Chapter 12

When I entered the kitchen wanting to get a glass of water after my pee, I abruptly stopped. Ismat was getting ready to go to sleep as well and she stood there in only her underwear. She might as well have been fully naked as the skimpy red panties didn't leave much to my imagination. Her naked breasts were about the same size as the orange I had eaten earlier that day and though I could have stood there, until the day I had died, just staring at her, I was clearly intruding on her privacy. I turned to leave.

"Wait, Soren. Please, tell me a story too."

"Uh, I don't really know any stories you'd be interested in, Ismat," I said. It made me feel terrible for having to disappoint her.

"Oh. Well, come over here and keep me company for a bit then."

I wasn't sure if it was okay to do so and I told her.

"Aw, just keep your voice down, nobody will know," she said and lay down on the bedroll. She patted it, clearly indicating where she wanted me to sit.

Me sitting next to her wasn't what she had in mind however. She tugged at my shoulder until I lay on my back next to her. Right next to her. I mean, you wouldn't have been able to make a piece of paper slide in between the two of us, that's how close we were. I moved a bit away from her, but she only moved with me. After a couple of times of moving, my left bum cheek was sitting on the cold stone floor while only my right was on the bedroll.

"Don't be stupid, Soren. Stop moving away from me," Ismat said in a hushed but clearly not too happy voice.

"Sorry. I just don't feel comfortable lying so close to someone else."

"I don't care. I want you to move back and lie in the middle of the matt. Do it or I'll tell my dad you tried to touch me in my sleep. He'll chop off your hand."

I gasped but did as she told me. I thought she'd lie down next to me, but instead she sat on top of me. Groin to groin. We had two layers of clothing between us but as far as I was concerned it might as well have been skin to skin. I could feel the warmth radiating off of her. I was confused, this went against everything, which by the way wasn't much, I had heard about a man and a woman being together. From my understanding a man was supposed to be on top, to be the aggressive, the dominant of the two.

Ismat apparently hadn't been informed of that rather important piece of information. Neither did she live up to what her name meant. She had told me it meant something along the way of being innocent, but she sure wasn't behaving like an innocent girl.

"Ismat, isn't the man supposed to be on top?" I naively asked her.

"Of course, but you're not a man yet! You're only nine. Tonight you'll do what I tell you or I'll scream as loudly as I can and when my mum and dad comes to check on me I'll tell them you tried to touch me, right here!" she said and forced my hand right up against her… uh, girl thing.

Why couldn't it be Mikkel she did this to? He wanted to touch a girl there so badly.

"Why me?" I asked quietly.

"What?"

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because Jabir is too rough. He likes being the one in control. It's so bloody hard to make him to do anything I want to do. But you, I bet you'll do anything for me right?"

What the hell is wrong with these kids? Why aren't their parents raising them properly?

I whined when she let go of my hand only to firmly grasp my small nuts. She increased the pressure, squeezing them in her hand. I had tears in the corners of my eyes when I desperately caved in.

"Yes!" I moaned and was happy to feel the pressure let up, though she didn't let go of my nuts.

"See? This is why I'm doing this with you and not Jabir. He would've tried to hurt me first, not just lie there and wait for me to hurt him. Pull up the tunic. I want to see your hard spear up close."

***

It took her some minutes but then my worm was flaunting itself proudly.

"It isn't any bigger than Jabir's. I guess the men in your family doesn't have big spears. The boys sure don't," she said while she stroked the object she was talking about.

"Sorry," was all I could come up with. Like it was somehow my fault that my worm was the size it was. It had never bothered me earlier, what had seemed important was I normally won the small pee contests I had participated in. I could pee the farthest and the highest, something that had earned me far more respect than being the son of a captain in the army, which my father had been back then.

Besides the 9 centimetres [3.5"] I had, with the hood skinned back, was the second longest of all in the group of friends I had back in the city. Well, I only had two friends in the city I was so close to that we'd want to compare our stiff worms to each other.

Still, even if my worm was somewhat a disappointment to Ismat, she didn't let me go back to the lounge so I could sleep next to Jabir. Not until she had demonstrated what my worm was really for and what pleasure it was to have it slip into her rear end. She had sucked on it too, while she tried to kill me by lying on top of me and pressing her moist girl thing into my face. The way she had gyrated her hips had made it almost impossible to what she had demanded, namely to lick at the top of her slit while ignoring the juices that came out of it, making my chin all wet.

It was only when my face was moist from her juices and she had moaned out loud twice that she swung around and deftly sat on my worm. She kissed me overwhelmingly, hungrily while her hips gyrated and made my worm almost slip out of her tight bum hole before it somehow slipped back inside again. She didn't stop when I told her I was about to pee, it only made her kiss me wilder and pick up the speed of the gyrations.

I didn't pee inside her bum, something I wasn't sure if I should be happy about or not, as she never told me why she sped up when I told her I was about to. What happened was much stranger than that, though, it was a sensation not unlike peeing, only ten times better. I was still trying to figure out what had happened the first time I felt like that when I could feel the weird sensation build up again. She never slowed down just rode me like I was a small horse.

"Ismat, I'm gonna pee now. I really think I'm gonna go. You best stop!"

"Shhhh," she just hushed at me before she stuck her tongue inside my mouth again this time holding my head firmly in place so I couldn't break the seal her lips formed against mine.

Even the thought of her saliva surely running into my mouth and knowing I had likely swallowed litres of it already wasn't sufficient to completely gross me out. It wasn't nice to think about, but my worm felt like it was trying to do a little dance inside her super tight bum while strange emotions filled my body once again. Ismat must have felt it too, since she slowly stopped her gyrating hips and her tongue stopped trying to reach for my lungs.

She smiled almost shyly at me and climbed off of me before pushing me off her bedroll. Finally I was able to get what I had entered the kitchen for in the first place. A glass full of cold water. It wasn't until after I had thoroughly washed my face clean from Ismat's sticky juices and saliva that I quickly guzzled the glass of water down. Ismat was sleeping by the time I left the kitchen.

And I never even had to tell her a story. How's that?

Chapter 13

Jabir was sleeping when I joined him on his bedroll. I had to hug him close since his bedroll was somewhat smaller than that of Ismat's. He didn't seem to mind at all, in fact he somehow managed to climb up on top of me during the night and slept like that.

No one had thought it necessary to tell me that Jabir was a bed wetter. I wouldn't have thought any less of the boy knowing he tinkled while he slept, I was used to that from sharing my bed with my sister who did the same. But, whereas Lise wore diapers when she slept and her accidents were contained to a small area that didn't really involve me, other than a slight pee smell, the same couldn't be said for Jabir.

The smell of pee early in the morning wasn't unusual for me, but the sheer intensity of it was. I was lying on my back and felt every bit as wet as if I had had an accident myself, when I opened my eyes only to stare right at Jabir's boy worm. The six year-old had woken before me, which wasn't very surprising as I had only managed to go bed hours later than him. I just hadn't expected to find him sitting on my chest fondling his stiff worm, which from my point of view looked quite big for a boy his age. Likely because the end of it was only about 5 cm [2"] from my nose.

"Suck it!" Jabir said when he saw me open my eyes. When I only blinked at him, he repeated his demand, "open your mouth and suck on it!"

I shook my head the best I could. I could smell the stale pee from his groin.

"If you don't suck it, I'll scream for dad and tell him you tried to hurt me."

Reluctantly I started opening my mouth and as soon as he saw that, he plunged his worm in between my lips. I'm sure my teeth must've scraped along it before I had a chance to open a bit wider for him. When his worm was fully inside my mouth and I had to fight the urge to gag from it, I judged it to be bigger than my own.

It's fatter, that's for sure and…

"Suck!" He said, not caring that he was interrupting my thoughts.

I sucked in my cheeks forming a vacuum in my mouth which was what the little one was waiting for. He started moving his hips slowly, pulled his fat boy worm back out a bit, then pushed it fully in again. Well, it was fat compared to my worm, his was about the same size around as a man's thumb, where mine was more like an index finger. The little six year-old spoke again.

"Now keep sucking and swallow."

Swallow? Swallow what?

I couldn't ask him, but didn't have to wait long to find out exactly what it was. He started peeing in my mouth.

"Drink or I'll yell for dad. Drink it all."

Fuck you, Jabir. I'll spank your little arse so hard after this.

However, I started swallowing his pee before it could fill my mouth completely. I didn't want his parents to come running and start accusing me of things I never even wanted to happen in the first place. I only wanted to go to the mountains and figure out where to go from there to somehow get back home to the city where I had been born. I had friends there and hopefully my family would be waiting there for me too.

If they're still alive. Fuck, how much pee can a six year-old hold inside of him anyway?

The middle of my tunic and the bedroll below my midsection was soaking wet, so it wasn't like Jabir had held back during the night. I tried to remember how much he had been drinking before going to bed the night before, while swallowing one small mouthful of his pee after another.

He had like a full pot of tea on his own. But he tinkled before going to sleep, I know 'cuz he did that when I went.

***

Strangely, it wasn't an all-together awful experience to be drinking the little boy's pee straight from the tap, so to speak. It was most of all just very salty lukewarm water. At least that was what I kept telling myself when he just went on and on. My own bladder was sending acute messages to my brain letting me know that I had to go soon myself or I'd be adding my fair share of pee to the bedroll. Nobody would have been able to notice it, I think, however I was much too old to be pissing myself like a little baby.

Fortunately Jabir's bladder wasn't connected to the South Ocean and eventually the salty stream dwindled and with a last couple of spurts he finished.

"That was good," he told me before he stood and ran to his parents' bedroom. I hurried to the bathroom and removed the drenched tunic before I stood in front of the hole in the floor for my morning pee. It took much longer to get started than usual when my worm insisted on pointing to the ceiling instead of the hole in the floor. I was almost doubled over to get the end of it pointing in the right direction when Ismat's and Jabir's father entered the small room carrying his son.

"My son tells me you were a good urinal for him," he said.

I swallowed, this time in fear for what was about to happen to me. The large man looked quite big enough to make a beating hurt. My worm slowly deflated while I worried of what he'd do to punish me.

He just picked me up and sat me back down on my feet in the tub in front of him.

"Here," he said, "It'll be easier if you just go in the tub. You can pee on the wall, us boys of the family always do that."

What he said made sense, somewhat, but his constant manipulation of my worm didn't. He was turning it back into a stiffy which would only make it really hard to control where my pee went. When my worm was as firm as it would ever be, he let go of it. It took him pushing firmly at my bladder to get me started and then he joined in with a much heavier stream of his own. He peed up against the tiled wall and I copied him. I managed to pee higher than he could, though his stream was much thicker than mine.

"You know, with you in the house, it'll be much easier for the rest of us. We won't have to worry about who Jabir will want to offer his morning pee to," he said as we fought for who could piss highest up the tiled wall. I got him beat when my stream nearly hit the ceiling above the wall. I did tell you I was the reigning champion of pee contests, right?

Jabir's father told me about what went on in the house when he washed the stale pee off of me and Jabir with cold water after our little contest had concluded.

"For you to understand what is going on here, Søren, I'll have to start by explaining about Jabir's and Ismat's older brother, Saif. He was adventurous, always looking for things he could do to proof himself a man. It was easy when he was just a little boy, it was only about climbing the highest trees and stuff like that. Maybe Latifah and I failed in how we brought him up, always trying to make him more independent and readying him for life.

"Saif was a star. He was fully potty trained at the age of two, knew how to wipe and wash himself when he was three and would venture far from home before he was four. He excelled in school, was the best in his class and had everything going his way when suddenly the war broke out. He saw it as a great opportunity to become the man he wanted to be. He left our house in the middle of the night, only leaving behind a brief note telling us that he intended to join the rebellious army and fight against the oppressing system that kept us down.

"I don't know which side is right, both have their flaws and both have good things going for them too. I don't really care about all that now. Saif died during basic training when he accidently slipped trying to rappel down a high cliff. That's what we were told anyway and I don't know if I trust that to be the truth, but it doesn't matter how he died. He did. It made us pick up everything and move out here, far from where the war is going on and living life like we want to. We grow our own crops and the kids help us.

"Now, we're letting the kids be kids, sometimes it gets a bit out of hand, but whatever they feel up to doing we let them. As long as nobody gets seriously hurt, it's okay. Sure, the little pisser here can be a handful at times and needs a few taps on the bottom to get back on track, but we try to limit it. His morning ritual of wanting someone to drink his pee is one of the things we allow him to have. He'll most likely grow bored from it sooner or later, but until then we just let him."

It still sounded weird to me and I had no clue where I'd fit into all of this. Was I to be treated like one of the kids where my opinion mattered too or was I just to be used like a punching bag or a Guinea pig for whatever the two kids could think of as being fun? If it was the latter, I would rather put on the pink dress and continue my journey towards the mountains.

"Well, it will be a bit both, Søren. In time we'll treat you just like we treat Jabil and Ismat, but at first, you'll find yourself at the very bottom of the hierarchy. Me and my wife, we won't ask anything of you that we wouldn't be asking of our own kids. So you won't have to do any more work than Ismat. You'll be taught the same way we teach them, be fed and dressed the same. However, any time Jabir wants to pee in your mouth, you'll let him and you will drink all he has to offer.

"And if Ismat wants to use you for her sexual experiments, which by the way sounded like you quite enjoyed last night, then you'll let her. If there is something you absolutely hate doing, but the kids wants you to do it for them, you'll talk to me about it. Then I'll decide if it's okay for them to do it again or not." He told me.

"For how long?" I asked.

"For as long as you wish. If you commit yourself, we'll welcome you like another son. If not, we'll give you enough water and food to last you for a few days. We can't offer a lot, but what we can spare, you'll get. Why don't you spend a week with us and see what it's like before making up your mind?"

When I found out there was 30 km [c. 18 miles] to the town near the mountains and there were no houses between Halim's house and there, I agreed to stay for at least seven days. It would've been quite impossible for me to get that far by foot in my current state. When Halim offered to take me to the town in his pickup truck after the seven days had passed, provided I did my very best to keep his kids satisfied, it made it a done deal. The town was right where the mountains started, he told me, it actually stretched a bit up the side of one of them.

"I'll do it," I said. It made me feel much older than my nine years when Halim solemnly shook my hand and we closed the deal like two grownups would've done. That I had been tricked by his kids, not just once, but twice, didn't make me suspicious of his very generous offer.

Chapter 14

Since it was my first day there and I really wasn't in a state where I'd be able to do much work in the fields, the parents chose to give all of us kids a day off from work. It gave me time to talk to Ismat about what life was like for her. I didn't deem Jabir a reliable source of information as he obviously held the reins most of the time and had a jolly good time. Fortunately he didn't want to use my mouth as a toilet again that morning, I guess it was mostly when he woke up that he didn't care for walking to the bathroom to tinkle.

Neither was Ismat horny, at least not until after lunch so I had time to pump her for valuable information. Apparently sex wasn't only something the kids had together, also the parents were included, though it was only once or twice during a week they'd engage in an all on all kind of activity. I wondered what that would be like, if I was to be included as well, and if I'd be able to say no to for example the father wanting to put his giant of a cock in my bum.

"You don't gotta do it if you don't wanna," Jabir told me, "He won't do it to me, only to Ismat."

I shook my head when I heard the little tyke pout at his father not wanting to fuck him. I wondered if he knew just how painful something like that was, at least in the beginning. I could vividly remember how it had been when Ali had pushed his cock into my bum the last time.

"It feels good when someone puts a finger in," was all he said before he ran out the door.

"He likes that?" I asked Ismat.

"It's one of the things he likes the most. He might want you to put your spear in his bum. Dad wouldn't mind that at all."

"Because mine is only little," I said flatly.

"It isn't as big as dad's. But it's big enough. I liked it when I rode you."

I sure liked it when you did that too.

I wasn't about to admit to her that I had liked it a whole lot. I hoped she'd 'force' me to lie still and let her ride me again. But I wasn't sure if I could downright ask her if she wanted to. I was still trying to understand the rules. I knew the kids could do pretty much whatever the hell they wanted to as long as it wouldn't kill anyone. I was a kid too, but the lowest ranking.

"What about the work you do?" I changed the subject.

Sex with Ismat had been a fun game to play, but it was only a game to me and not one I'd want to play all of the time. I was only nine years old and my sex drive wasn't so strong back then. Working wasn't something I was used to, other than having been forced to water Ali's smelly plants, and I wondered if the work here would be as hard as it had been at Ali's farm.

"It isn't bad. Dad usually does the really hard work and leaves raking, sowing and weeding and such to the rest of us."

"For how long do you have to do that? I mean per day."

"It depends. If we're sowing or harvesting, we do it almost all day long and eat most of our meals out there in the fields."

That made sense, even to an ignorant kid like me. I knew there was only a limited time to get stuff harvested when it was ready.

"What about school?" Another important thing for me. I hadn't particularly liked school with its prefects and the bullies and all, but I had enjoyed learning about new things.

"What about it?"

"How do you learn stuff out here?"

"Mum used to be a teacher. She teaches us the important things."

That seemed like a plus too. The lack of technology in the house was a drawback, like there wasn't any hot running water.

They don't have a computer either.

In fact, there wasn't even electricity in the house. There were no outlets and not one light fixture or lamp to be seen. At least not electric ones. There was an extension cord on the floor of the lounge, but what that was for wasn't obvious to me.

No electricity is a major problem.

"Søren!" I heard Jabir yell out from the bathroom. I hadn't even seen or heard him return to the house.

Now what?

"Søren, I've finished!"

I sighed, I was well aware of what those words meant. Especially when it came from a little kid inside a bathroom. I had often heard my little sister yell out exactly the same when she wanted me to wipe her little bum. She was only four when I had last seen her, however, not six like Jabir. He really had to know how to deal with his own messy bum by that age. But I was only, I don't know, if not exactly a slave, then not too far from it, to these kids.

I rolled my eyes at Ismat before I went to the bathroom.

Jabir was squatting low over the hole, which was fortunate as the fruit he ate so much of, had seemingly exploded out of his little bum. It was quite messy, but nothing I hadn't experienced with my sister. There was no toilet paper here however and it made it quite a bit trickier to deal with. I had to carry Jabir over to sit on the edge of the washbasin so I could funnel the cold water from the faucet in between his buttocks and wash the smelling stuff off of his bum. When all there was left was a clean bum, I worked my middle finger gently inside it to make sure there wouldn't be any small, but itchy pieces sitting just inside the hole.

"Ooh," he moaned when my finger went a bit inside and since he seemed to like it, I worked it in even further. I wriggled my finger once it was fully inside then pulled it out, washed away what came out on it and stuck it back in.

"There, all clean now, Jabir," I told him after my finger had been inside a couple of times and finally came back out clean.

"Thanks, Søren. I liked that," he said after I had dried his bum with a towel.

I bet you did. Your worm is trying to poke a hole through your tunic.

He ran back out into the garden, not worried about the state of his worm and I carefully washed my hands.

"Messy?" Ismat asked when I returned to the kitchen where she sat.

"Uh-huh."

"Get used to it. He'll be wanting you to do it all the time from now on."

I sighed.

Another drawback. But, my fingers are clean now, even under the nails. I can do this, I'll get used to it.

The big question was more if I wanted to.

***

Lunch was every bit as nice as it had been the day before. Again it was a reheated stew from the dinner last night, very spicy with extremely tender meat that didn't require much chewing as it seemingly melted inside my mouth. The sweet potatoes were a bit overcooked, but I only enjoyed mashing them with my fork since it enabled me to get more of the delicate sauce along with the potatoes into my mouth.

Major bonus. If the food is always this great, I'll have a hard time deciding what to do.

The hot tea served with lunch was also nice. It was rich in flavour, almost to the point of being sour, and had a ton of sugar in it. Not only did the caffeine give me a boost, so did the sugar. It was like drinking a hot version of Coke. Possible there was even more caffeine in it as I felt like I could bounce from wall to wall.

"Soren, would you help me after I went like Jabir?" Ismat asked.

"If you really, really want me to. But if you'd do it yourself, I'd be so much happier."

"Okay, that's fine. When I'm done, be prepared for some fun. Like last night."

Extremely major plus.

I smelled my breath, it wasn't extremely bad, but there was a distinct lack of toothbrushes and toothpaste in the house. If I was to stay here, I'd demand that everybody brushed their teeth at least once a day or so. There had to be a town or something nearby for things they couldn't produce themselves. Like the big propane gas cylinders had to filled somewhere. They were about as tall as me and weighed about 45 kgs [100 lbs.] I was lucky if I weighed half of one of them.

I decided to find out where the extension cord was coming from, while Ismat was in the bathroom. It entered the kitchen via one of the windows and I had to go the front door and around the hose to find the end of it. I followed it to a small shed nearly 100 metres [c. 330 feet] from the house. The shed was locked by a heavy padlock on the door. I found a knot hole in a board on the side and saw a propane gas driven generator. It wasn't running but since it was so far away from the house I figured it had to be rather noisy when it did.

"Why do you have a generator? I haven't seen any electric devices in the house so far," I asked Ismat when I got back inside the kitchen.

"It's for the winters. It gets cold and we use it for electric heaters. Those and the fireplace keeps it toasty warm here. Sometimes dad puts up chains of light too so we won't have to use the kerosene lamps. They stink up the place. We have a small TV hidden away, too," she told me, before she asked me to lie down on her bedroll. Naked of course.

***

Other than not having been taken to work, nor seen what school was like, it didn't seem like it would be such a bad life living with the family. Certainly I'd get my awakening need for sex covered. I'd be finger fucking a small six years old boy, possible fucking him with my worm too, and Ismat would surely demand to be fucked again too. I wondered if Latifah would be interested in me as well, Halim certainly hadn't held back stroking my worm that morning.

But, I needed more information about the outside world. I desperately wanted to know if my family was safe and if they were waiting for me. If so, I had to get back to them as quickly as ever possible. The family I was with now would surely understand my needs.

I waited until after dinner then I asked Halim if I could talk to him privately.

"Did something happen while we were gone," he wanted to know when the two of us were outside in the garden.

"No, uh, nothing I couldn't stomach anyway. No, I really need to find out about my own family. My father was stationed on the coalition's army base named Ghraib across the desert. It was attacked by the Liberal Army of something or the other and they pretty much trashed the place. Have you heard anything of anyone making it out of there alive?"

"I haven't heard of any such a base at all. How long ago was it?"

"Uh, about six months. Though, it might be a little more or less, I'm not completely sure."

"I need to go into town tomorrow. I can try to ask around discreetly. Most are siding with the LAoV here as I'm sure you already know."

"They aren't very nice. Nobody who are on their side. They seem only wanting to kill everyone and then what?"

"They're abusing the script. Reading it like the devil would. Twisting every little passage into something that'll make it not only alright, but in fact make it sound like it's all believers' duty to kill those against it. Or they can convert them to abide to the script and enslave those who won't."

I nodded at that. That sounded like something that had happened to me. At least the enslaving part, the Bedouins had kidnapped me and sold me to Ali, like I was an object or a slave. Ali had sold my body to Sayid Peterson, like it had been the most natural thing to do. It made me wonder, because living with this family sort of looked like it would be slavery to me as well.

"What do you think of the new rules?" I asked.

"We aren't fanatic believers of the script, never have been. What we believe in is more about pursuing the good things in life, growing our own crops and live as independently as we can. But, what happens in our house when we're alone is against a lot of rules."

I nodded deep in thought. I knew I'd soon have to make a decision of whether to stay or leave.

I wish to stay. Jabir is okay even if he is fucking pushy. But it'll only be until I get to be a proper member of the family. Then I can push him around myself. I'll show him what it is like having to drink pee right from the tap. Maybe Ismat will be my girlfriend, she's so pretty. That would be extremely cool!

But, if I received information that indicated my family might be alive and well, I knew my rightful place would be right there with them. It was a terribly conflicting time for me.

Chapter 15

Jabir wanted me to tell him another story at bedtime and inspired by Ismat's looks, I began telling him the story of the princess who was stunningly beautiful. Her father, the king, didn't like how all the young men in the kingdom would openly flirt with her, so he had a sorcerer make her fall into a deep sleep. One she'd only wake from if a prince, and not just any prince but THE prince, was to kiss her.

"What happened then?" Jabir asked.

"The princess slept for 40 years, never waking and not getting any older, and then the king was about to die from old age. He was upset since he had never intended for his daughter to sleep for so long and if she wasn't to wake up before he died, the kingdom would surely come apart."

"Then what did he do?"

No, don't get so excited, Jabir! Go to sleep. I want to play with your beautiful sister.

My story wasn't making the little pisser any more tired, it seemed to keep him awake. I continued telling the story, but made sure to tell it in a slow, almost droning pace.

"The king sent word for all the princes in the world to come to the palace so they one by one could kiss the princess. She was so pretty that every prince wanted her to be his wife. So all of them came and each of them was allowed to kiss her exactly once to see if they would be the lucky one. However, there was one prince, a very little and quite ugly one, in fact, now that I think of it, he looked exactly like you! Well, he didn't think he'd stand a chance against all of the good looking princes in the world. So he stayed at home."

"I'm not ugly."

"Well, you look exactly like the little prince in the story and he was butt-ugly. Now, don't interrupt me again or I won't tell you the rest of the story."

"Søren!" Jabir pleaded and I heard a laugh from behind me. Unbeknownst to me, the rest of the family had been listening to my extremely bad story-telling and they seemed just as intrigued as Jabir by it!

Suddenly feeling a lot more pressure on me, since I knew Ismat was listening too, I concentrated much harder to remember how the story went so I could tell it exactly like it was supposed to.

"There were like thousands of princes in the world, and the king had all of them line up for their chance to kiss the extremely pretty princess. He made sure the best looking princes, and those who were the same age as his daughter, were at the very start of the long queue. Even though each of the princes could only kiss the princess once to try to wake her, it still took months for them all to kiss her.

"The king had thought only very few of the princes would have to kiss his beautiful daughter before the right prince was discovered, but he was wrong. He started to worry that a lot of the princes, even the older ones, would be kissing her before the right one finally showed up and woke her. Then while the line slowly got shorter, he started worrying all of the princes in the world would be kissing her before the last one in the line, a very old and rather ugly prince, would wake her."

"She sure got kissed a whole lot," Jabir said awestruck.

"Yes. And even when the very last one of them all, the ugly prince almost as old as the king, had kissed her for a full twenty minutes, she still didn't wake up."

"So it was the ugly…"

"No, don't skip ahead!" Halim chastised his son.

"Well, the king got really depressed when all of the princes had kissed his daughter without waking her. He was certain he was going to die before the princess would wake and was about to jump from the highest tower in his castle when the Lord Chamberlain stopped him. He told the king there was one prince who hadn't kissed the princess yet. That he had been summoned to the palace and was about to enter. The king happily went down to the throne room to greet the prince. He imagined the prince had to be 2 metres [6.5 feet] tall and have really big muscles, his hair would be golden and long, basically the most handsome young man in the world."

"But, it was only the little…" Jabir interrupted my tale.

"Jabir! shut up!" Ismat cried out.

"The king sat on his throne and waited impatiently for the handsome prince to enter the throne room. It was a very long room and the light that entered the room when the big doors opened at the other end blinded him for a while. He couldn't see the prince clearly from that distance so he had to wait while he slowly approached the king. The prince that walked up to the king wasn't like anyone he had expected to see. The king cried out in rage when he saw it was Prince Jabir, the ugliest, weakest and littlest six year-old prince in the whole wide world."

"Wha…"

"JABIR!" Three voices cried out this time.

"Sorry," the little boy said sheepishly.

"The king flatly refused the little ugly Prince Jabir to ever kiss his beautiful daughter. He said it would be better if she'd never wake from her sleep, if Prince Jabir really was the prince who'd wake her. Prince Jabir was saddened and began to cry, but he wasn't at all surprised by what the king told him, since he knew he was uglier than a goat's butt."

"Hey!"

"Shhh! The little, uglier-than-a-goat's-ugly-butt Prince Jabir was about to start his long journey home, when he was stopped by the king's Lord Chamberlain. The king was lying in bed, very close to dying and had changed his mind. Prince Jabir was to kiss the princess, whether he wanted to or not. He was rushed into the bedroom where the princess lay on a bed so high he had to get up on a step stool to reach. He closed his eyes and placed a very careful peck on the lips of the beautiful princess.

"Immediately he pulled back and was happy to see the princess didn't wake up from his kiss. He could now return to his own little ugly house where he could hide his ugliness from everyone but his parents. He knew it hurt people when they saw just how extremely butt-ugly he was."

I could tell Jabir was fuming with anger, but at least he didn't interrupt me this time.

"He hopped back down onto the floor and had almost made it to the door when he heard a soft voice tell him to stop. The voice came from behind him, from the bed! He turned slowly and passed out when he saw the princess sitting up in the bed looking at him. The ugly prince and the beautiful princess got married and eventually they had many pretty princesses and just as many small butt-ugly princes. The end.

"Time for you to go to sleep, Jabir. Sleep well."

"Stupid story! I'm not ugly," he said angrily and hurriedly turned to face away from me and his family.

Later, when Halim and Latifah had retired to their bedroom, Ismat wanted me to demonstrate exactly how all the princes had kissed the beautiful princess. I was only too happy to do that.

***

She woke me the next morning with a small kiss, one I responded in kind since I had been dreaming of her all night long. I kept my eyes closed while I really kissed her and forced my tongue into her mouth, just like I had done late that night. She playfully objected to my kissing, much like she had done at night. It was only when I noticed the strong smell of pee I opened my eyes. I was kissing Jabir, which he didn't appreciate very much.

"Pffft," he sputtered, "Søren, I only meant to kiss you like Prince Jabir kissed the princess. Not for you to start sucking my face!"

"Sorry, Jabir. I thought you were someone else."

"Ismat?"

I nodded.

"Yuck!" he said and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I gotta go!" he whined.

"Yuck!" I said in exactly the same way he had. However, I opened my mouth so he could scoot up and push his firm and rather thick spear into my mouth. It only softened somewhat when his salty offering started flowing.

***

Right after breakfast, Halim drove to the town in his old pickup truck. It looked extremely beat up, almost as if it would completely disintegrate if he'd push just a bit too hard on the brake pedal. The engine started on the first crank without hesitation however. He was gone for six hours, a time the rest of us spent being schooled. Latifah, Ismat's and Jabir's mum was a fairly good teacher and she wasn't mum when school was in session. Jabir learned it the hard way when she told him off.

He wanted me to suck on his boy spear right there in the middle of the school session in the kitchen with his mum and sister present. I just shook my head at him and whispered I'd do it later, if he wanted, but not right then. He wasn't interested in later, no it had to be right then as his spear was stiff and wanted to be in my mouth. He was seriously pissed off when Latifah said I was right to deny it. He pouted for at least ten minutes before he got interested in learning again.

"You gotta suck on it right after lunch! After you drink my pee. And put your finger in my butt while you do it," he told me in a loud whisper everybody in the kitchen was able to hear when he had finished pouting.

"I will. But listen to your mum now, she's trying to teach us."

***

I had to discreetly remind Jabir of him wanting me to suck him when the time came. The attention span of the six year-old was quite short.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Do it now," he ordered me loudly.

"What? Here?"

"Yes. Just sit on the floor."

I looked embarrassedly at Latifah and Ismat washing the tableware after the lunch. Both smiled encouragingly at me, not exactly the response I had hoped for. I parked my bum on the floor with my legs spread out in front of me and back resting up against the bench we had been sitting on. Jabir just lifted up his tunic, positioned himself right in front of me and let his tunic fall back down. It hid my blushing face from the females and I was able to perform my duty without having to look at them.

"He's good. Better than you, Ismat," I heard him say while I seesawed my middle finger in and out of his moist bum hole and allowed him to move his spear freely in and out of my mouth after he had peed into it.

"I want him to stay forever!" He continued.

"Jabir, that's up to Søren, not you. He's here for another five days and then he'll tell us what he has decided," Latifah explained. It wasn't the first time someone had to tell Jabir that this wasn't something he had any say in.

***

Halim returned with the groceries and two refilled propane cylinders. All of us helped him carry in the smaller things from the bed of the pickup truck but he declined my offer of helping him with the heavy cylinders. If it wasn't because Ismat wanted me to help her in the garden, I would've been hovering over Halim while he ate waiting for hearing what news he had managed to pick up. My boy worm was about worn out when I returned to the house after Ismat dismissed me and I walked into the kitchen.

"Søren," he nodded at me, "sit please. The rest of you, leave."

Even Jabir did what his dad told him to without complaining, something new to me.

"I talked to three men today. Like you told me, there was an attack on that military base, not that I didn't believe you, but it is fully destroyed now. It's completely gone. If you were to go there today, you wouldn't be able to tell there once was a base at that location. That's what I heard."

I couldn't believe that. Surely there had to be something left from a place with about 2000 soldiers living there. You couldn't remove all signs in only half a year. But I couldn't care less about what had happened to the base itself. That wasn't why I had asked Halim for information.

"What about survivors?" I asked.

"Most were killed in the attack, Søren. From what I heard three helicopters came in and picked up people. On the way out, two of them were shot down."

"What kind of helicopters? Were they Wrolers?"

"I've no idea what a Wroler is."

"It's a bi-rotor transport helicopter with room for like 100 people. Far more if they're not all strapped into the seats."

"Sorry. I don't know what type of helicopters they were. I'm not even sure if what I was told is close to the truth. The news I heard has been through a lot of people and any of them may have altered it some before telling it to the next person. Maybe there were ten helicopters and maybe there weren't any at all."

If there ever had been a time where I wanted to access a computer or watch the news that was it. But there weren't any computers, and the small TV Halim owned didn't have an aerial, since technology was considered an insult to the 'God' according to the script. They only had the TV so they could watch old home videos on it. Even the generator Halim had hidden in the shed wasn't allowed! I don't know where that left his truck, but I guess whoever made the rules were a bit flexible.

***

I had spent six days with the family and had drunk Jabir's pee every morning including several other times when he felt like it. I had been forced to clean his little bum probably twice every day too. It was nearly the time to make up my mind about staying with the family or heading back into the great unknown trying to find my own family. The chances of ever finding them or even getting back to some place I'd recognize were slim at best. I was finding it ever more difficult to remember what my real family looked like.

If only I had a picture of them.

I had been introduced to sex with the parents, which had been a quite enjoyable experience for me. They didn't do anything to me nor their kids that we didn't ask them to. I found it most difficult to express what I wanted and only gently explored their bodies when either of their kids weren't busy demanding them to do something for them. I watched when Halim carefully and slowly took Ismat from behind, his big spear pushing into her bum, something she seemed to enjoy a lot.

It almost made me ask for the same but I was too shy and quite afraid it would hurt me like it had when Ali and Sayid Peterson had fucked me. Jabir unknowingly came to my rescue when he told me to turn over so he could fuck my bum. It didn't hurt much at all, though he wasn't exactly doing it carefully or slowly like his father. The little boy pumped so energetically into my bum that it made everybody else on the mattress bounce up and down in time with his thrusts.

"So, Søren, do you want to stay?" Halim casually asked me while his son was busy fucking my bum.

Jabir didn't ask, he promptly stopped his in and out movements and immediately demanded I'd stay. He told me that I was the only who would clean him properly after he pooped and that I was the very best to do it.

"I like how you suck on my spear too and you can even kiss me like you did that morning," he told me desperately before he resumed pumping my bum.

"I love it when you kiss me and stick your spear in my bum," Ismat said.

"I enjoy being able to wake in the morning without having the little pisser wanting me to drink his pee and you're a great help in the fields," Halim said.

"I really like talking with you when we cook dinner and you are very good at telling stories in the evenings," Latifah said.

And I do like it here. A lot!

***

"I would like to stay with you," I told the family at dinner after we had finished having sex.

"YES! I knew it! I told you so, Ismat," Jabir cheered triumphantly.

It made me smile at the little tyrant. I quite liked him in spite of the things he made me do for him.

"However, I have a request. No, two," I looked at Halim when I said this.

"Spill it," he said.

"Can we please get a toothbrush each? Just any cheap brush will do and of course toothpaste. And then some toilet paper or a longer hose for the sprayer so it'll be easier for me to clean Jabir."

"But, I like the way you do it now," Jabir protested.

"I'm sure you do and I'll keep sticking my finger far into your bum after you've pooped for as long as you want me to, but you're too darned heavy for me to lift you up to sit on the washbasin all the time. A hose or toilet paper would make it much easier for me."

"I think I can rig up something like a faucet next to the hole. It'll be less expensive in the long run than using paper. Besides, paper would really mess up the seepage system," Halim said.

Toothbrushes weren't a problem either, though I ended up having to brush Ismat's and of course Jabir's teeth for them. It was a small price to pay for being able to kiss their mouths tasting fresh and nice. I had to work more for the added expenses, though it only meant two more hours per week of weeding for me. Most of the time Jabir would stay out and keep me company so it wasn't all bad.

Work and school was the only real stuff we kids absolutely had to do without questioning what we were told. Halim seemed like an expert in knowing exactly where our limits were and though I at times didn't think I'd be able to do what he asked me to, I found out I could. Either on my own by pushing myself beyond my believed limit or by words of encouragement and some times, though not very often, by a few stinging slaps to my rear end.

Chapter 16

"Lick it, Søren."

"Nuh-uh. I'm not doing that."

"You do it to Ismat all the time," Jabir said trying to convince me.

"Yes, but hers is always clean when I lick it. I'll lick yours after I've cleaned it."

"No, lick it now!"

I had another look at his dirty bum hole. He had just pooped and sat on his haunches, with the tunic pulled all the way up to his armpits, and demanded me to lick his dirty bum hole clean. With my tongue! I had been living with the family for about a month at the time.

"I'm not doing it! I'll smack you if you keep asking me to."

"Daddy! Søren wants to smack me!" The bare-arsed six year-old wailed.

It wasn't but a few moments later when Halim joined us in the bathroom asking what was going on. I had never threatened Jabir with a spanking before. Not out loud. I had wanted to so many times, but I had always been able to refrain from expressing my wanting to do so.

"He won't lick my butt!" Jabir sobbed.

"I told him I'd do it after I cleaned him. Look at his bum, would you lick it like this?" I said and picked up Jabir from where he was squatting and pointed his rear end towards Halim. He grimaced at the sight.

"No. Jabir, Søren is right. You can't make him lick your bum when it's this messy."

"But, I want him to!"

Halim seemed to consider it and then told me to put Jabir down on the floor.

"Rinse his bum, smack his buttocks five times and then give him the licking of his life," he told me and left the bathroom.

"Søren! Don't smack me. Please!" Jabir openly cried now.

I wasn't fooled by his fake crying. He wasn't crying because he regretted anything, he only did it so I wouldn't spank him. It was the first time I had been allowed to do anything to any of the kids without their wanting it, and I wasn't about to let that opportunity slip away from me. Jabir tried to bolt from the bathroom, never minding his messy bottom, but I was too quick. With a firm grip on his wrist I twisted his arm high up on his back.

"Listen Jabir. Your dad told me to do it. You wanted him to smack me, in fact you would've enjoyed watching me cry from being smacked hard, right?"

"No! I'd never do something like that," Jabir tried to make it sound like he was appalled.

Hah! Yeah, right.

Jabir loved nothing more than trying to get me into trouble so I'd be smacked by Halim or he'd just smack me himself and for a little six year-old he could make his slaps hurt quite a lot.

"Sure you wouldn't. Now, be a good boy and stay like that while I clean your bum for you. I'll do it like I always do. I know you like that."

"I don't! I hate it!"

"You hate it so much your big boy worm gets all firm from it. You can't fool me, Jabir."

***

With the new installation in the bathroom it was quite a lot easier to deal with not only Jabir's messy bum, but also my own. The rest of the family was happy with the used faucet sitting on the wall within easy reach of the hole in the floor. The attached hose could be used to gently clean the outside of a bum and it could be used to clean it on the inside too. The only downside was the water coming out of it was quite cold, like the other faucets in the house.

Warm water was still something that came from putting cold water into a pot and letting it heat up on the propane powered stove. Hot baths were rare, only once per week and then it was a matter of fitting as many people into the bathtub as possible to make most use out of the hot water before it always much too soon turned cold again.

"I'm gonna clean your little bum real good this time," I promised Jabir and turned on the faucet.

"NO!"

"YES! I am."

He tried to make it harder for me to get the hose lined up with his bum hole, but I just pushed his arm higher up on his back. It made him squeal but also stand up and bend over a little and it only made it so much easier for me to guide the end of the hose with the cold water running out of it to where it could enter the small boy. I hadn't turned the faucet up very high, so the water coming out of the hose was really just trickling out of it.

"Søren!" Jabir objected to what I did with the hose. I had never given the boy an enema before, only used the hose to gently spray the poo off his bum.

"Shhh. Let the water flush your bum clean. You'll like it afterwards, I promise."

"I hate you!"

"I suppose that means you don't want me drinking your pee anymore then."

"Never again. I mean yes… from now on, every time I have to pee, you have to drink it!"

Damn! I hadn't thought of that!

I knew Halim wasn't going to decline his son asking that of me. But, if he was going to make me do that, I was at least going to make the insides of his bum as clean as I could. This clearly required more water, much more than was currently going into him. I deftly turned up the faucet to full, before quickly moving my free hand back to hold the hose firmly inside his bum hole.

"EEEEEEE!" He shrieked when the cold water gave his insides a high-pressure cleaning.

"Push out, like you're pooping. Keep pushing and let the water back out as it goes in," I told the little boy.

When the water came gushing out around the hose I had pushed into his bum, I carefully manipulated it so the water would hit the spot inside of him. First Ismat and later Halim had demonstrated what wonders could be gotten from a finger massaging the other end of my worm where it ended inside my body, which happened to be accessible from the bum hole.

"Oooooh!" Jabir's shriek changed pitch, letting me know the water was now hitting him in the exactly right spot.

"Feels nice?"

"Sorta."

I didn't keep it up for long, I could tell how cold the water felt against my hand and knew how much colder it was when it went into my own bum. But, by the time I turned off the water and pulled the hose back out of his bum, his spear was jutting out from his body.

"Push the rest of the water out and I'll wipe it off your bum. Then it's time for the next thing your dad told me to do."

"Nuh-uh!" He sang out and hightailed it out of the bathroom. I had stupidly let go of his arm when I turned off the faucet and removed the hose from his little bum.

"Silly boy! I know where you sleep!" I shouted after him when he ran out of the house.

I laughed to myself when I looked out the window and saw him get halfway to the shed in the garden before he quickly lifted his tunic back up to his armpits, squatted and pushed out what seemed to be several litres of water from his bum. Jabir didn't return to the house until dinner time and thus postponed his punishment. It only made me smack him so much harder and while he hiccupped and noisily snorted in his snot, I set about doing the last of the things his dad had told me to do. I licked his extremely clean bum for a very long time until he fell asleep.

I kept reminding myself of the joy it had been to smack him when he for the next week or so would call out for me every single time he had to tinkle. It didn't matter if it was in the middle of the field or when we'd sit in the kitchen being taught by his mum. And even with all the pee I had to drink, he still pissed on me every single night too!

***

Ismat wasn't as much into pee games as her brother, but if she was in the mood for it she didn't hesitate making me or Jabir drink her pee too. It was somewhat more difficult to drink hers as there wasn't a way to adjust the flow like I could with Jabir. She didn't have a spear that could be squeezed shut like her brother, so it was a matter of swallowing as quickly as possible and even then a lot of it would end up running down my cheeks or Jabir's and into the bathtub.

She was much more into kissing however, but usually she was way too aggressive for it to be a pleasurable experience. My lips would hurt for hours after and if I wasn't careful so would the tip of my tongue when she managed to trap it between her sharp teeth. My spear would often hurt too when she had finished with it, either from her constantly rubbing it or licking and biting it. However, I always walked away from her bedroll like a happy camper, having experienced the still wondrous feelings rushing through my body several times.

Like Jabir had so truthfully said, she quite enjoyed having me lick her all over between her legs. Mostly her front, though she quite liked it when I'd try to get my tongue to enter her tight bum hole too. I never quite managed to get it to break through the tight passage but it was fun trying nevertheless. A finger or my spear was so much easier to get inside.

Jabir also asked me to fuck him. I only agreed to it after giving him a more gentle enema than his first. My spear was just long enough to reach the spot in his bum, and since his was long enough to reach mine too, we spent a lot of time switching between fucking and being fucked by the other.

Chapter 17

"Why can't me and Jabir put our spears in Ismat's hole at the front?" I asked Latifah one afternoon watching her and Ismat prepare dinner.

"Don't you know how babies are made?" Latifah asked me.

I hadn't the slightest clue. I could remember my mum getting fatter until she looked like she had swallowed a big watermelon whole and suddenly my sister had turned up as if by magic and my mum had turned back to normal. Latifah made it a point to teach all three of us kids about how a man would put his spear inside the woman's hole and something would spurt out and it would make a baby.

"That's why you can't do that to Ismat or me," she ended the lesson.

Jabir and I had looked at each other afterwards and gotten the same idea. But no matter how long we tried to coax something other than pee out of our spears we just couldn't make them do it. It felt awfully nice trying to, but in the end we had to stop when we simply got too tired and our spears were too sore to keep trying.

The next day we went to Halim and demanded to know why Latifah had lied to us.

"Nothing comes out no matter how long we suck or pull on our spears. Not even doing it in the bum will make anything come out. We get the nice feelings Latifah mentioned, but there's no stuff?" I had been elected spokesman since my vocabulary was a tiny bit more advanced than Jabir's.

Halim told us Latifah hadn't been telling lies, we were simply too young for it to happen. So we got to see his stuff. Well, we had to work together to make it come out, but when it did it spurted right into Jabir's mouth before he had a chance to pull his head out of the way.

"But that's only your sperm!" I felt cheated when Jabir opened his mouth to let me see what the mystery baby-making fluid was. It was nothing but a slimier, more salty and more whitish coloured version of pee to my eyes.

"It is sperm. But if it enters a woman or a girl of Ismat's age at the wrong time, it'll make a baby grow inside of her."

Neither I nor Jabir felt too unhappy about not being able to put our spears into Ismat's front hole as long as we could put them in her back door. And if she wasn't interested in that, I could always use Jabir's, as long as I'd turn around afterwards and let him pound away in mine. Even that felt nice!

***

After having seen Ismat take her father's spear into her bum on several occasions and listening to her happy sounds while it was inside of her, I finally caved into my curiosity. I had been fucked by a spear of his size before but it had been extremely painful. It didn't seem to be hurting Ismat, on the contrary it seemed like she enjoyed it right from the start until he'd slip it back out again.

"Halim, can I try that too? Only, I don't want it to hurt too much," I asked him in a small voice, fearing his response. I sort of hoped he'd say that I was still too small, even though I actually wanted to try it. If it could be done without hurting me. I guess I feared it would turn out to hurt as badly as it had done before.

Part of my reason for wanting Halim to fuck me was I knew he wouldn't fuck Jabir because he thought his son was much too young, and if he'd fuck me, it would give me one up on the little boy king. We seemed to be in a constant competition for being able to do something the other couldn't. Like we'd sometimes squeeze each other's small nut sacks as tightly as we could starting at the same time to see whom of us would yell out in pain first. At first I didn't squeeze real tight, but when I felt how much pressure he put on my nuts, I really gave him a run for the money.

"We can try, Søren. If it hurts too much, all you have to do is tell me to stop," Halim told me.

To me, that sounded like a challenge. I'd never in a million years tell him to stop, no matter how much it may hurt, not with Jabir observing us as closely as he was.

"Jabir, why don't you fuck Søren first? It'll help loosening him up a bit."

I hadn't seen that coming. I never meant for Jabir to be getting anything out of his father fucking me. Now Jabir would be fucking me and I'd likely not be able or wanting to fuck him back after Halim had finished fucking me.

"No! I don't want Jabir to do that," I objected.

"Søren, it's going to be too painful if you don't let him," Halim tried to reason with me.

"Fine, but then I'm putting my spear in Jabir first."

"Hey, I'm not the one asking to be fucked by dad."

"No, but you're not fucking me unless I fuck you first. Then dad can fuck me. I don't think I'd want to fuck you after. So I'm fucking you first, then you fuck me and finally dad fucks me."

"What?" Jabir asked.

"You bloody well heard me. I fuck you first."

"No, not that. You called my dad, dad."

"I did?"

"Yes! He's not your dad. He's mine!"

"And he's mine too! Don't forget that Jabir," Ismat butted in.

"Okay, but our dad isn't Søren's dad!"

"Sorry," I said feeling extremely stupid.

"No, Søren. Don't be sorry. If you think of me as your dad, by all means, call me so. I'd be proud to call you son," Halim said.

If looks could kill, I would've died a thousand horrible deaths right then. Both Jabir and Ismat looked about ready to pounce on me.

***

I quickly ran from the bedroom after picking up my tunic and left the house. I had no idea of what to do, I just wanted to be alone for a time and think things through.

Shit! Why did I call Halim dad? He's not my dad. I have a dad of my own. At least, I used to have one.

I had to figure out if my dad and my mum and Lise had made it out of the army base alive. For that to happen, I had to leave the strange family of four.

With Ismat and Jabir obviously really angry with me, there isn't much reason to stay here anyway.

I'm not sure if my reasoning was right, but that's what I concluded. I had to get going. The week long stop over had turned into two months and it had been very nice for most of the time.

It's not my home though. It's high time for me to move on. I'll never get home if I stay here.

I briefly wondered if Halim would take me to the mountains like he had promised, but my fears of what would happen, if I walked back inside the house, kept me from asking him. I saw Jabir's bike standing in the garden where he had carelessly left it. It didn't take me long to push it to the driveway where I sat on the much too low saddle and began pedalling towards the mountains.

"You thieving bitch!" I heard Ismat cry out and she jumped over the low fence and started running after me. I had to stand up and pedal as hard as I could to get away from a sandy stretch of the road and then keep pedalling like mad for more than five hundred metres [c. 1/3 mile] before she finally gave up. I kept pedalling using both feet, but not as hard while I rode further away from the house on the little bicycle.

I honestly felt quite bad for having stolen Jabir's bicycle. I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been desperate, but that didn't make me feel much better. For the first hour or two I constantly looked back over my shoulder to make sure Halim wasn't coming to get me, but he never did. If he had, none of the things that happened to me afterwards would ever have happened. Maybe it would've been for the better. But I don't know since I never saw any member of the strange family again.

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