Clearing my old Tumblr profile, as the censorship made it useless years ago...
This is one of the posts with my own photo - in this case photo of me created by Lichtreich - German photographer.
Writen by PeterBrownUK:
LOCALE: EASTERN EUROPE / ARABIA TIME : PRESENT He was a rebel fighter, or terrorist as his government wanted him to be known, trying to overthrow the unjust regime and restore the promised freedoms to his divided country. The sheer volume of modern weaponry, communications systems, spy drones and other military hardware that the government could buy did however mean that he and most of the other rebels were ultimately surrounded in a small town. In spite of their heroic efforts, holding out against almost impossible odds for two weeks, and running out of ammunition and food, they knew they had to surrender. Although some of them wanted a bloody final battle and death, they were persuaded to hold off by their fellows as they could, they thought, eventually be released and then resume the struggle. The UN Representative negotiated the deal, assuring the brave men that they would be treated as prisoners of war under the terms of the Geneva Convention, and not as terrorists outside the protection of international laws governing the treatment of combatants.
All seemed to go well at first as they filed past the government troops, surrendering their arms. Under the eyes of the world’s TV cameras they were given a hot meal, and those with torn and shredded uniforms were provided with blankets against the weather. The cameras watched as they were loaded into trucks - without the government guards mistreating them in any way - and they were driven off to a POW camp. All seemed fine, as there were large tents to house groups of 8, a central mess room and recreational hall, showers and latrines, and a medical facility. Several news organisations sent their reporters to the camps, and the world’s viewers saw the young, fit fighters exercising and playing soccer and apparently thriving.
The world lost interest of course, as other more “pressing” news stories crowded the airwaves. And then mysteriously groups of men started to disappear from the camp - perhaps ten or so per day. The treatment these unfortunates got from the guards was very different - roused in the dead of night they were cuffed, gagged and chained, and then threw into trucks just as if they were cargo and not men. They stripped them stark naked at the airfield, bundling them into a small cage in the aircraft - carrying them this way made it so much easier as they could piss during the long flight with their waste simply flowing across the floor of the cargo hold. They shivered and clung together for warmth as the hold was not heated, and this was the first time that many of them had been in such intimate contact with another man’s body - in training they were of course always in uniform.
It was blisteringly hot when their crate was unloaded, and the guards here were different - they had guns of course, but were also equipped with short whips and a fearsome electric device which they soon learned was a “slave goad”. These were the means of keeping them under control. On arrival at a heavily guarded compound they were made to wash each other thoroughly - to get them used to having other men handle their bodies as we know, but the reason for which they did not suspect at this stage. After a thorough medically exam they then had most of their body hair shaved off leaving only a suggestion of their pubes to indicate “manliness”. They were separated into two groups, and those in the uncircumcised group were lined up for a simple, but painful, operation by a man in a blood-stained white coat.
The sale the next day was humiliating - strung up with their hands above their heads to a beam they had to endure the prodding, probing and intimate examination of their bodies by many, many men. Then each had a few brief moments on a brightly lit stage where what as clearly an auctioneer sold them off to the audience of laughing, shouting men.
He now stands alone, without his companions, in a space at his owner’s palace reserved for the reception and treatment of new slaves. He is almost used to being kept entirely naked now although whenever guards approach he covers his genitals with his hands in that automatic reflex action that new slaves still possess. He wonders what all this has happened to him, and why the world has let him be humiliated and treated in this way. He worries about his family back home and how they are managing without him - his young wife pregnant with their third child, and his two young sons. When will he see them again, when will he feel his wife’s soft caresses, when will he be able to take his sons in his arms?
Little does he realise that his new owner has paid considerably over the odds for him as devious enquiries to his home country before the auction revealed these family details. His owner relishes using fit, handsome young men as his sexual playthings, especially those with a proven breeding record that shows them to be “straight”.
So however much he stands there and longs fort his family, for the
caresses of his wife, it isn’t going to happen. He will be tied down to
one of the so-called “fucking horses” so that he can begin to learn how
an owner uses a slave. And as he gains more experience and realises he
is powerless, he might even begin to enjoy the feel of another man’s
cock against and in his body.