Great Expectations III

I'm your Cow!

I had come for the exotic sex the mountain boys are famous for; disbelieving what friends had told me: Extortion, robbery, kidnapping, murder, and war. – I liked Man's voice, his eyes, his hands but who was he? What did he want from me? Was he in love with me? I should have asked the doctor to call the embassy to repatriate me. Now, I had no papers, no money, and nobody, not even I knew where I was. What if Man simply left me in the middle of this desert? Who would stick a note to my corpse:

Take me to the Hilton!

Twenty-four hours ago, I still had mustered the strength to worry. Now, I was in a shelter made from dry twigs, which while it protected me against the pitiless sun, was hotter than a sauna. The woven carpet I was lying on smelled of other worried travelers' sweat. There was no sound. The whole day I had heard no bird, seen no snake, no lizard. How I had come here, I barely knew… vague memories of two men dragging me through an endless desert, of hot air parching my thirsty lips, of sudden shots and hours spent pressed to the ground.

A voice I knew said, "What idiot would trust a Merican?"

I said, "I can't go on! Have mercy, and let me die here!" But strong hands pulled me up and step after step made me walk, and if I didn't walk they pulled me along the rough, stony track until after hours of half-unconscious struggle we reached a hole in the ground, an underground fountain with bitter water to wet my lips, to cool my feverish head.

"Why don't you let me die?" Did I remember the two men? The thought of a fridge full of cool drinks and clean food clouded my mind. I felt the cold steel handle, the click of the lock, smelled the rubber of the seal, the fridge smell of stale salad, butter, cheese, orange juice… It pursued me into my feverish dreams… If only I could get rid of it!

I would have preferred to be dead, but neither the two cruel men nor my body let me die. As soon as the sun was sinking, they ripped me from my cool comfort and again forced me to walk. After a few steps, I closed my eyes. To see there was nothing; keeping the eyes open was just one more pain. Half asleep, I stumbled on, hoping in vain that they would tire of me and let me fall down, sleep and die.

Hours later, their steps quickened, and the stony desert path changed into a hard road surface. I heard rough male voices. When I opened my eyes, I saw weak lights, but I was too exhausted to care. Hands lifted me up, carried me, forced me to drink, and put me to sleep on a stringed cot under a fan.

"Excellency's health?" I opened my eyes, Man was sitting on the edge of my bed, and One Ruffian was standing near my bed and reading the thermometer. He said in English with a thick tribal accent to Man, "Thirty nine point five", and then, while he knocked the thermometer down, looked at me and said, grinning, in standard Language, "Soon we can kill them!"

Man took my hand and said, "In front of their eyes, jealousy has drawn its veil! From [the name of their ferocious tribe] harm to the sick will not happen." Massaging my arm, Man told One Ruffian in their tribal dialect, "You sold us to them, now go find yourself another catamite to assfuck!"

I (to Man): "Where am I?"

One Ruffian (to Man): "Your man whore ass is itching to get assfucked by the Mericans' uncut cock!"

Man (to me): "Reason to worry, there is none! Of Excellency's health the recovery is paramount, after this Excellency's safety."

Man (to One Ruffian): "Why carry them through the desert, if you don't let them fuck us at least once before you kill them?

I (to Man): "Where is my money?"

Man (to me): "In their hands," Man nodded towards One Ruffian, and added in English, "No problem!"

I felt good enough to have felt better with my money under my pillow. However, considering that One Ruffian wanted to kill me as soon as I was well enough to be killed, to question the wisdom of leaving my money in the safekeeping of my future killer seemed questionable wisdom.

At night, Man washed me. Soaping my hard cock, he said grinning in archaic language, "Of engendering Excellency's power, its awakening is near!" And when I tried to kiss him, "Of Excellency's health the price is as heaven from earth so far beyond of boys sold and bought their asses to fuck of the joy the illusion short."

I wanted to answer, "Talk like a human!" but he was kissing me and his French kisses were penetrating, sucking, slobbering proof that 'Among the devotees of love we shine; Excellency will notice!' had not been empty talk.

I tried to grab his cock, but he captured my hand in his, and kissing its palm said, "To satisfy Excellency, your slave was born!" He pulled my naked body up until I sat in his lap… his cock pushed against my butt like the muzzle of a gun… and between deep sucking kisses, Man told me, "Excellency must fuck us before you die!"

If only I knew where I was! The building was a nondescript brick hut. From the small barred windows, I saw an arid plain with low rocky hills, reddish earth spattered with dark ferrous stones that looked like dry human excrement. Against the soft tiredness of the fever, I decided that tomorrow morning I would ask Man where we were. Would they fear that I planned to run away? If they wanted to kill me, why had they brought me here? Did they want to save me or sell me to an armed group? Maybe Man and One Ruffian didn't exist… Had I gone mad and would suddenly wake up from a Falciparum malaria attack in a cool, clean, modern hospital room?

I was gliding down a shady brook in an old rowing boat, reclining in the boat and at the same time pulling myself up into the boat from the cool water. My beautiful childhood friend was with me… I felt his wet bony boy body; his cold lips touched mine. My tongue tasted the warm inside of his mouth. I smelled his wet hair, his sun lotion, and the petrol of the small outboard motor… His cool wet finger woven into mine struggled to free themselves; his small stiff cock pressed against my lower belly. I didn't want to stop kissing him and at the same time didn't want to delay getting sucked. Doesn't it feel best immediately after a swim?

Man woke me up, and without allowing me the time to piss, right outside the hut bundled me into a large cloth-covered basket-like structure fixed on top of a kneeling camel.

There is seasickness, and there is camel sickness. During the early morning hours, I dozed though I couldn't stretch my legs. Towards noon, it got hot. I felt ill. Desperate, I told Man, "Please, I don't feel good."

Man lifted his hands palm upwards to his front, "To command your slave, so long why Excellency delayed?" He forced me to drink some lukewarm water. In the cramped space of the basket, which felt as if it could tumble down any moment, he began to massage first my arms, then my legs. I slipped a hand under his shirt and, when he showed no resistance, into his crotch… He continued to massage my legs. That I would be satisfied with what he was hiding, I guess he had foreseen, but soon Man pulled my hand away, "Excellency's pleasure is what this slave should serve for!" and spitting in his right hand gave me a foretaste of that art which is the pride of his tribe.

At night, we sat around a small fire, drinking tea. The camel drivers spoke a language I didn't know. When One Ruffian talked with a boy in standard language, I overheard that we had passed a border. If my intuition was right, we had traversed hundred miles of the most inhabitable terrain on earth to get into a country not involved in the war. To cross the border was illegal, but as a Westerner, I would be safe. If caught, Man and One Ruffian were in trouble. Why did they try to save my life?

Two weeks of fever had weakened me, but feeling out of danger made me bold, and when Man followed me to piss in the dark, I asked him, "Should we fuck?"

"Of a young dromedary Excellency has made the purchase…" Man changed his voice into a grinning murmur, "Do you need riding lessons? Where is your baton?"

In the dark, I guided Man's hand to it. He put up a token fight to defend his ass against an invited intruder – its lawful owner! When I had him face down on the ground, he untied himself the string of his wide trousers, pulled them down and mooed:

I'm your cow!