The Rites at Port Dar Lan
I had heard vague second hand stories about Port Dar Lan from contacts in Bangkok and Manila, but it wasn't until over a year later I was directed to a representative of the Ky Luc Trading Company in Singapore. I questioned him about what I'd heard and after a delay of two days, possibly while my background was being checked, he informed me that my information concerning the boys' initiation rites was basically correct. He explained that Port Dar Lan was a very isolated settlement on the coast of Borneo and very difficult to get to, and that the initiations were held on the first two days of the month except at the height of the rainy season. For a small fee of two thousand dollars American he would be glad to make arrangements so that if I wished to observe, and perhaps take part, I could. My Visa card was welcomed. I would also need a substantial amount of cash to pay the boys for any pleasures I might fancy as his fee only covered transportation from a nearby town and my accommodation while I was there.
A week later I checked into a rather seedy hotel in the town where I was to catch the boat that would take me to Dar Lan early next morning. There seemed to be about a dozen other tourists there on the same mission as me. After dinner in the hotel restaurant I struck up a conversation with one of them, an impressive bearded man in flowing Bedouin robes and expensive jewellery. He indicated that he'd been often before and welcomed my curiosity about the rites we were about to witness. He told me Dar Lan was a refugee settlement, boat people mainly, but that it was not officially recognized as such. However a large international relief agency provided them with rice and other basic supplies. "It is tolerated," he explained in his cultivated English, "because of its extreme remoteness, and the well rewarded neglect of certain government officials. There are the remains of an old Japanese Army camp but no roads, and despite the name, no harbour or dock. It is not a place any ordinary tourist would think of visiting. The refugees, some five thousand of them, are desperately poor with only some fishing and small crops for their sustenance. The initiation rites provide the only hard cash and chance for people to buy their way out."
Ali, we'd introduced ourselves, went on to say that the initiation rites had originally been borrowed from a nearby mountain tribe, the Ullongis. "During the 1960's a team of anthropologists had been studying the tribe and become extremely interested in their seemingly savage puberty rites. The boys had to undergo severe tests of their manhood including heavy whippings which left them scarred and the initiates were circumcised slowly and painfully with a crude stone saw knife. This the boys had to endure silently without flinching. According to some of the early Spanish and Portuguese chroniclers such rites were not uncommon in the past. In order to make these rites more accessible to students and other scholars the anthropologists persuaded the Ullongis to hold their rites at the river's mouth near Dar Lan, the same place the rites are held today. The annual rites attracted considerable interest among scholars, dozens attended, but more importantly a growing number of curious tourists began to make their way to them. By the time the project was disbanded some years later, some say because a boy died from his ordeal, up to a hundred visitors were making the annual pilgrimage."
"The refugees, especially the men and boys who came to watch, knew what was happening. Some of the boys received what was then very generous offers if they would submit to being whipped by tourists imitating part of the Ullongi rites. Word of this got around and more tourists began arriving to indulge in this and other pleasures. It became a significant source of income for a number of refugee families who felt threatened by the end of the anthropology project. However one of the senior anthropologists, Dr. Swartz, who was on good terms with the settlement leaders, stayed behind and they began putting on their own rites. The boys of course were eager at the chance to make some money. Doctor Swartz had contacts in Europe and others were found in America and what you call the Middle East. He and some former leaders of the settlement established the Ky Luc Trading Company to handle arrangements abroad."
"Swartz himself was an expert on similar rituals in other parts of the world and he studied dance and theatre in his youth. Working with the boys in the settlement he designed and worked out the rituals you will see. He and the boys set out the rules and standards, often painfully practising, and he left the boys in charge to run the show. Those who've been through the entire process, the cutlings, form a Council who make the rules and rule on exceptions. This they have done faithfully and I think you'll agree that they've done a good job. Dar Lan is not like the dingy brothels you find in some cities where you can pay to whip sad, pathetic children whose wounds seldom get a chance to heal.
"The initiations and the whip have brought Dar Lan what little prosperity it has. When I first went there it was disease ridden and many went hungry; now everybody is well fed, and the boys, they are more healthy and cheerful, and as a result, more fun to whip. The settlement respects and appreciates the boys' efforts, and they take good care of them and protect them. You may not notice but there are always elders around as well as the boy's buddies. Those who abuse the boys beyond their limits are not welcome back. Once, years ago, a boy was maimed by an Australian who got carried away. Six months later he was found in his Melbourne residence with his throat slit. It hasn't happened since. The boys do not allow themselves to use drugs, nor may they compete under the whip as happened in the temple games of Artemis Orthia in ancient Roman Greece. Plutarch recorded how bleeding boys, their bones flayed bare, would often die before they'd yield. Such is the spirit of youth. Myself, I like to love my brave boys after and have my lips taste the flesh that tastes my whip. Too heavy a beating robs them of their passion, but I wouldn't show that respect to a boy who couldn't take an ordinary lashing in his stride, and I wouldn't whip a lad who wasn't willing. When you know a boy with the whip first, it elevates love from a mere delight to a glimpse of Paradise.
"Some of the boys love the whip just as I can remember the cane. I came across the cane in one of the last great schools in England. I noted the pride my fellow students took in their bruises and I sought the same with some success myself. The English were still very civilized then. In Dar Lan the whip is part of their culture but never as punishment, never negatively. Even the little children play whipping games in the settlement, just as you see them imitating the flagellants in some countries. Those who do not learn to love the whip, learn to take pride in their fortitude."
"Boys are first allowed to profit from the minor torments of the stinging thong and light cane at seven, one stroke for each of their years. At eleven they may pledge and be tested, and suffer the lash, the strap and the heavy cane. Small boys look forward to the time they can pledge and wear the white cloth of a pledgling. At thirteen, on the threshold of their manhood, they bleed under the ceremonial cutting whips to initiate the new pledges with their blood and they may now wear the red cloth of a whipling. And at fifteen, when their genitals are spurting with puberty, and there is more scope for pleasure and for pain, they are circumcised. At each stage the boys try to find a foreign sponsor, who gets certain privileges for a price, and in between they earn lesser amounts by letting the monthly tourists flagellate their flesh and take other pleasures with their bodies.
I asked Ali if all the boys in Dar Lan had to undergo the rites and he replied, "Generally yes, but in the rainy season when no tourists come they have a much milder version. Only a few boys choose or can afford this option. Each of the three stages is a chance to make a substantial sum and at other times they receive the lash for cash. A family with three sons entering their teens can save enough to buy their way into a better life elsewhere, as may a determined boy on his own. Most of the boys try to get whipped each month during the rites, and many encourage guests to torture them in other ways, "special trips" they're often called, as long as no obvious marks show. A month allows more than enough time for the marks of even a thorough thrashing to disappear so that their skin is fresh for new assaults. For a boy with a handsome body and a cool mind it can make for an easy life."
We caught the boat, a large motorized banca, early next morning. Ali and I spent most of the trip in open bow watching the coastline go by. In the middle of the afternoon he turned to me and said, "Ah, there's Port Dar Lan." pointing to a bamboo and thatch village backed by palms and low hills. "We go on another mile to the river's mouth." Soon I saw a large thatch structure sited back on a wooded rise. "And that," he continued, "is the longhouse where most of the rites are held." The banca turned towards the shore and nosed into the white sand beach grounding about thirty feet out in clear foot deep water. Being near the front Ali and I were among the first off wading through the gentle surf with our gear. About twenty boys splashed out to meet us, a number of them calling out, "ALI, ALI!" He spoke to many of them by name, it was like a homecoming. More boys were waiting on the beach, several came up to us pulling down their shorts to expose their asses and cocks. "You like me Mister?" a twelve year old asked. "You like fuck me? You like whip me? See nice bum?" Ali waved them off.
"Ah," Ali complained, "They're supposed to wait until we've settled in but you know how difficult it is for boys to restrain their enthusiasm." An older, fiftyish man, thin but with a pot belly greeted Ali. He was introduced as "Johnny, our official host." He checked my name against a list and gave me a key and the number of my hut. Ali explained that he was the only representative of the Ky Luc Trading Company at Dar Lan and was only responsible for our accommodations. Several boys were offering to show me the way when a handsome, golden skinned youth, accompanied by what I took to be his younger brother joined us. "Ah, Ramon!" Ali greeted him "I hope you come." said Ramon, "I save my hide for you." He turned around showing off his smooth skinned torso marked only by a few barely perceptible scars presumably from his ceremonial whipping, across his chest and back.
"Me too!" The younger lad posed with arms outstretched. Ali stroked his silky skin approvingly. "See nice soft to whip. You like?" Ali ruffled Rene's wavy locks affectionately and the boy pulled out his penis. "I save for you too. Next year." He pulled the foreskin out an inch beyond the tip of his pubescing prick. "I make long for you, you see. Everyday I stretch, pull real hard so you like to cut." Rene made a chopping motion with his hand. Ali laughed and fondled the young boy appreciatively, promising he'd flog both of them later.
"Ah," Ali sighed, "Ramon is one of my old favourites, I must have whipped him twenty times since he was nine and no more than a twig. I'm sure he loves the lash the way he offers his body to it. And you should see him bleed, so freely and copiously and he heals without a mark. I sponsored him as a pledgling, torturing him to his limit repeatedly. I remember his spunk and courage well. But he's sixteen now, soon too old to be a joy to whip, although Rene's in his prime. But I won't disappoint Ramon. I have his foreskin in my collection which I had the pleasure of severing with the old stone knife, and I'll harvest his brother's too when it is ripe. Even without his stretching it, it would be a trophy I could not resist."
Several boys were pestering me for the privilege of showing me to my hut. I looked around at the eager pleading faces and I chose a bristly haired lad in ragged cutoffs, but with a saucy face and straight, proud, well formed body. He moved with animal grace and I noticed his firm boyish muscles as he hoisted my pack on his back. He introduced himself as Jojo, and led me around the rise to a small clearing where my hut was set some distance from its neighbours. The huts were simple but comfortable with electric lights.
Jojo brought me a beer from the cooler and asked if he could have a Coke. "You like me?" he asked. When I nodded he came over and sat on my knee. And when I put my arm around his shoulder he squirmed sensuously. "You like sex? Suck? What you like?" I was tempted but I knew it wouldn't be free so I asked him how much. "Oh, no dollar. I be pledge OK? Maybe tomorrow? You like? Better to have foreign sponsor, very good. Sponsor get special honour." Ali had explained to me about sponsoring and the privileges which allowed considerable latitude. Ali had advised pushing the pledge, "Push him carefully but persistently and explore with him the real limits of his endurance, and the strength of his personal fibre."
I liked Jojo's direct manner, his cheerfulness and enthusiasm, and I liked his intelligent face and his handsome slender body. Stepping out of his scant cutoffs he stood quietly in front of me as I explored his unblemished body, squeezing and probing his muscles, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his pulse and breathing, Next I had him lie on the bed as I examined the soft skin of his torso, his tight sphincter, delicate balls and responsive prick. He seemed proud and pleased with himself. With his boyish bottom mooning me I suggested a spanking then and there. "Oh, after pledge test sponsor get to spank lots, but not first." I knew what he meant - he had to have no marks for the rites tomorrow. "You like boy spank? whip? I find. OK? I friend Sammy, same like me, eleven." I said Sammy could wait.
I explained what this sponsor wanted and was prepared to offer. Jojo, suddenly the shrewd entrepreneur, argued and got more but left my privileges undiminished, a daring step for him to take. He placed my hand on his tiny scrotum and stared at me calmly. My fingers encircled the tender beans in his silky sac, looking him in the eye I slowly began squeezing his balls gradually increasing the pressure, and of course the pain. Jojo stood there passively, hands on his hips, his voluntary expressions under superb control. But there were other signs that his suffering was becoming intense ( little boys' balls are so exquisitely sensitive to pain), spasms began flickering through his muscles and his breathing was getting irregular. I stopped. He smiled. Thus he became my pledge.
Then he fell upon me, we tumbled on the bed and he practically raped me in his efforts to please, and it seemed for his own pleasure, a skilled and versatile child whose uninhibited eagerness more than made up for the shortfall to puberty. As we romped away I could tell from his spirited and impish character that he would be a delight to torture and torment later; a fine challenge to my ingenuity to bring desperate agony to his naturally cheerful face again and again, without damaging his tender growing body.
We made our way to the longhouse, a large, airy semi open structure where a late lunch was being served to about thirty guests, some having arrived the day before. Jojo found Sammy, but I only got a glimpse of his long lashed, doe eyed face and magnificently muscled body for a lad no bigger than Jojo as he'd found a sponsor for his own pledging and wasn't available.
After eating Jojo said, "I find other boy, lots of boys. You like whip now?" I expressed interest. "OK, you come, we go to 'Mango Tree'". He led me down the slope to a cool, shady flat area near the river dominated by an immense, low branching mango tree. We found about a dozen guests and twice as many boys there. Four prim Japanese, with an interpreter were taking turns lashing a dark skinned lad of perhaps sixteen who was suspended by one of several pairs of ropes dangling from the fruit laden branches. The boy remained passively stoical as his four excited tormentors plied him with the whip leaving him covered with reddening, raised welts. The Japanese seemed pleased with their handiwork which they examined closely. They paid him handsomely and ordered another boy strung up. Ali was there and called us over. "Ah just in time. See my nice Chinese?" he said pointing to a smiling long haired circumcised youth being hung by his wrists by two others. "Tie Cheng's legs as far apart as you can, " Ali called out, "I want to get between them. The boys complied stretching his legs out to stakes in the ground leaving his genitals completely exposed. Cheng's pale skin was dappled by the light of the declining sun which emphasized the delicate softness of his form. Ali turned to me, "The boys are having an opening day special: A dozen lashes for fifty dollars, but double if blood drips to the ground. You can be sure most of them are bleeders. You're allowed three dozen blows on the older cutlings but only one for young pledglings. This is my second lad." Ali pointed to a tall red loinclothed Afroasian boy with fresh lacerations on his chest, stomach and thighs standing nearby. The boy grinned and waved back at us. "Another two and I'll just be getting back into form. A good workout wouldn't you say? It's been months since I've had the pleasure of laying the lash on such tender young flesh." And then he called over to Cheng, "Ready?" The boy nodded. Ali stood in front of him, flicked the whip back and sent it sailing between the boys legs, coiling and snapping around his upper thigh. I watched an even red line form. Ali worked on the thighs and lower abdomen, I could see he was trying to come as close as he could to Cheng's genitals without hitting them, and I had to admire his talent with the lash as a pattern of thin weals began to clothe his hips and loins. Cheng remained unruffled, exchanging only a few words with his buddies. By the twentieth blow Ali knew he would be paying double and blood was dripping freely from several places when he completed his three dozen. Cheng politely thanked Ali when he collected his money. Jojo tugged at me, "Good whip job, yes?" His hand was down his cutoffs working away. "You like whip boy now?"
Several youngsters began begging Ali and me to whip them. They showed off their smooth bellies and bums and with eager faces invited us to reach in to their loincloths to feel their hardons. I chose a still hairless pup, obviously a recent pledge, and had him stand with his hands over his head while I worked twelve long thin stripes into his back, belly and buttocks, but drew no blood. The lad seemed cheerful throughout, joking with his friends, and was happy with his financial reward. It was no doubt a minor ordeal compared to his pledging experience. In the meantime Ali worked on his third, A Laotian youth with a small patch of dense fur on his pubes. He had the boy alternately bend over for the cane and stand chest out to receive the lash. Ali's third stroke across the chest creased a nipple and the boy flinched and cried out. Ali stopped in disgust and threatened, "I'll never whip you again." The boy was very apologetic and after Ali had finished his labours he commented, "I'll not waste my time on such boys although there are others who like their lads to shriek and cry, and are not satisfied until they do. Old Tom the German is one of them. See that loudly screaming lad he's flogging? I whipped him sore without a whimper six months ago. The boys know. See how his friends giggle and laugh when he screams. And Old Tom just flails away with no finesse. He has no respect for the boys, I think such men are sick. The boys like more style and dignity and many will wait for me even though they know I set a harder test.
A small, very skinny boy came up to Ali demanding, "You whip me Mr. Ali?" Ali looked him over and shook his head. "But you promised last time." the boy pleaded. "Yes," Ali replied, "but I said you must first put on some flesh, I don't want to flog a bag of bones." The lad however persisted, "Look, see," he flexed his scrawny muscles and Ali felt them, "I eat extra rice everyday so you whip me." When Ali relented the boy triumphantly ripped off his white loincloth and stood before us smiling looking very pleased with himself. Ali carefully examined the puny muscles of the lads buttocks and thighs and gave him six sharp strokes with the cane. He finished off with an equal number of whiplashes across the boy's boney back. This somewhat subdued the boy's enthusiasm but he got Ali to promise to whip him next time too. Ali tipped him generously as he had with Cheng.
At one point there were five boys suspended, bent over or otherwise posed for the entertainment of the guests. Jojo enjoyed the proceedings, making the rounds of the various floggings, his cutoffs tented by his tiny hardon. Blood seemed to have a particular fascination for him and he couldn't keep his hands out of his pants as he watched blood running down the leg of an impassive Viet Namese cutling being strenuously whipped by a crew cut, military looking American. When I suggested we leave Jojo said, "I show you Garden Path. You like, plenty sex, lots of boys." My pledgling led me around the other side of the rise from the longhouse, there a pretty series of glades were adorned by brilliant bouganvilla and delicate orchids.
As we approached the Garden Path the beat of disco music grew louder. In a small clearing we found several guests watching a number of boys dancing sensuously to a stereo. Some were ingeniously body painted as aliens or wild animals. A graceful tiger boy shook and wriggled in front of us, bared his realistic fangs and growled in rhythm before coyly retreating inch long claws fondling his long tiger stripped rod. A dark monkey boy, his lips, nipples and genitals a flaming pink swung down from a branch losing his tail which a guest reinserted rhythmically in his ass. They leave together soon after. A pale green boy with darker arms and legs throws his hands out revealing his genitals exquisitely painted as a mauve and white orchid. Vine clad twins about nine kissed and fondled each other as they danced.
Jojo joined in, "For you only," he said, swaying his hips a minute before returning. A couple of guests joined in the dancing and the orchid boy lost his nectar to another. After watching the amazing gazelle boy suck himself and a few other interesting contortions we continued our way.
Soon on the path we found a forked stick embellished with a just opening pink rose, pointing up a grassy trail to a clearing. We went to look. Tied ass up to the twisting trunk of a fragrant, flowering frangipani tree was a voluptuous lad of ten. Creamy petals from the frangipani covered the ground and flecked his long wavy locks, and his huge long lashed eyes beckoned me in hopeful helplessness. His buddy sitting on a branch beside him lazily fingered his friend's pink sphincter and signalled the price. I stopped to gaze but Jojo, probably jealous, tugged me along. Farther along the Garden Path we heard the laughter of little children and peered through a hedge of blossoming pink bouganvilla. Set well back a small waterfall tumbled into a pool bordered by grass and flat rocks. An older greying guest was frolicking with a half dozen small children of contrasting a shades in the water.. They cavorted joyfully, the old man splashing back with one hand and fondling them indiscriminately with the other.
It wasn't long before two boys about ten, well dressed in clean white shirts and long dark pants like tropical schoolboys, approached us. "You like sex? Watch? Do?" the slightly taller, curly headed one asked eagerly, his arm around his buddies shoulders. "Two boys you like?" I looked at their smooth lithe bodies and pleasant faces and watched their eyes light up when I nodded my agreement. They stripped in a matter of seconds and started rubbing themselves hard exchanging happy grins. My hands explored their lovely young bodies as I explained what I wanted. After giggling briefly they embraced standing, kissing each other as uninhibitedly as a newly married couple slowly exploring each other's mouths with their tongues becoming dreamy eyed. Then they lay down on the grass, cuddling affectionately before shifting into sixty nine position sucking enthusiastically on each other's tiny pricks. They slowed down and with their eyes half closed and their heads nestled between each other's knees they licked and sucked away. Then they took turns bumfucking each other which they seem to consider more fun judging from their laughs and grins. Jojo squatted beside them to get a good look at the action and fondled himself.
Ramon and Rene, Ali's young friends appeared, Ramon's front was covered with fresh welts, some of which had obviously bled. "Ali do good job." Ramon commented as he displayed his stripes. I complimented him and after talking to them for a minute it was agreed that Rene would fuck the little curly headed, dusky eyed boy. He lay down on his back, legs up, and Rene crouched over him all fours, his slender, ripening cock protruding from its scant bush. The curly headed lad wrapped his legs around Rene's waist and grabbing on to the older boy's shoulders he raised himself off the ground and guided his ass to the waiting cock. I was amazed at the way the small boy seemed to suck the youth's cock into his anus, and the look of apparent delight in his dusky eyes as he did it. They worked away rhythmically, the curly head kissing Rene's lips ardently and his pelvis doing most of the work. He clung on tighter as Rene slowly reaching his climax pounded deeper and deeper into the tiny ass. I tipped them both generously for this idyllic interlude.
Jojo could barely contain his excitement and begged to bumfuck the other little lad who had long straight hair and a delicate face with shining black eyes. The boy was scarcely smaller than Jojo but looked younger. I agreed subject to conditions which I explained. Jojo scrambled out of his clothes and grabbed the somewhat amused long haired lad pulling him to the ground. Jojo started humping the boy furiously, his rigid little prick frequently slipping out of the tiny bumhole. A look of boredom crossed the face of the long haired lad as Jojo thrust away without much seeming effect. Finally Jojo himself seemed to tire of the play. Then as agreed Jojo crouched in front of Ramon and began sucking on his magnificent, circumcised member, his fingertips fondling the fresh welts on Ramon's belly. Ramon's cock swelled to an astonishing size. Then, his passion aroused and his mighty prick quivering, Ramon mounted Jojo's narrow rump forcing his rod in inch by inch, sweat dripping from his red welted, blood smudged body. I could see my little pledgling become increasingly uncomfortable as the determined assault continued. Jojo was being repeatedly rammed, outside and in. His little rosebud was undoubtedly getting sore and I knew I would be continuing its torture later on in other ways. However gradually Jojo began to respond with movements of his own and Ramon's thrusting peaked and slow and they both appeared sated. It was getting dark and we returned to my hut to clean up before dinner.
Ali was already there and we joined him at his table. Several red loined boys hovered nearby as if waiting. Ali beckoned a sombre eyed, dark youth with shoulder length hair. I was struck by his long, almost aquiline nose, uncommon in this part of the world, and his serious serene visage. He said his name was Paul, they mostly used western names apparently, and that he sought a sponsor for the knife. Ali cupped the boy's face in his hands and studied it. Paul's eyes flashed and his sensuous lips, topped by a haze of fine hairs, made a faint challenging smile. Ali liked what he saw and bade the boy show him what he had to offer to the knife. Paul slipped down his loincloth revealing a large, bluish, pendent cock with folds hanging below the tip. His narrow loins were capped a small thick forest of silky hairs. Ali took Paul's stiffening member in his hands, retracting and then stretching the intricately veined and generous foreskin over the finely sculpted rosy knob.
"Ah, such a magnificent specimen," Ali exclaimed rolling the loose skin through his fingertips. "A worthy trophy for my collection." Paul made it clear that his foreskin did not come cheaply and they began to bargain. I already knew the basic price was one thousand dollars, which allowed the sponsor some choice of methods or he could cut it himself. Using the old Ullongi stone saw knife cost quite a bit more. Ali continued to roll Paul's pliable foreskin between his fingertips as they talked. It was finally agreed that Ali could remove his foreskin in any way he chose leaving the penis cleanly trimmed and unharmed. If Paul did not struggle or cry out he would get a bonus of four thousand dollars. There would be a time limit of one hour. They both appeared happy with the arrangement and I wondered what delicious torture Ali had in mind.
"Ah, perhaps the finest young prepuce I've encountered." Ali sighed later, "and on such a handsome and noble looking youth. Tonight I taste his flesh and juices, tomorrow I test his spirit and mettle, and see the man emerge. Circumcision, in my land is something boys proudly endure. In others, such as among the Gisu of Uganda it is a ritualized test of a boy's fortitude performed before the entire community. It is a lengthy and radical operation with some of the subcutaneous flesh scraped away and the boys must stand motionless without flinching or they bring great dishonour on themselves, their father and clan relatives.. In the West when they do circumcise it is done to infants too young to appreciate the ordeal or in hospitals with doctors, anaesthetics and white uniforms. Boys are robbed of this test of manhood entirely, and what's more the pity, they're denied the opportunity at school to prove themselves under the strap or cane. No wonder they invented the cult of the teenager, they have no way of distinguishing men from boys. In my country, boys up to their early teens come to me to be cut. It is an honour. We have a very swift and simple rite now, one quick cut, not like when the tribes ruled themselves. I remember not long after my own circumcision, when I was thirteen, I knew this ancient man who'd gone through the old rites. He said they used to flay most of the skin from the shaft and he showed me his mutilated member, and I of course showed him mine for his pleasure. However the government banned the old rites, not without good reason, and boys still found to have submitted to them had a hand chopped off and often died of gangrene. Most of the skins in my collection are but snippets from nine to twelve year old tads. The ones I cherish the most are the dozen from the youth of Dar Lan I have reaped in special ways."
Ali took me aside after dinner, "I think you'll like Jojo," he said. "I've caned him a couple of times, he took it well, and I've had the impertinent child in my hut. Be firm if you want his respect, push him to his limits. The boys themselves believe that pledges should be tested hard to prepare them for the years ahead."
"To enjoy the unique delights of Dar Lan to the fullest your mind must be clear and free from the constraints of ordinary morality. Dar Lan is a land of suffering and noble courage, of endurance and sweet agony, of drama and pathos where outrageous lusts and fantasies find satisfaction and fulfilment in both loving and torturing boys. They are here to please you within their rules, to be abused, at times well abused. The pleasure's in the hurting, rejoice in the pain you inflict, for here we make a mockery out of mere perversity. It is a dangerous place for the normal mind all the more so as the adorable little 'victims' pursued with such relish are willing for a price. Here, as an economist noted, the ultimate in a free market economy has been achieved."
When we returned to my hut for our evening entertainment I decided on some subtle tortures as my pledge's young body had to be unmarked for the morrow when he played his role in the rites. I gave him no more to eat but encouraged him to drink large quantities of water, Coke and even a few sips of my beer. I kept him active with vigorous horseplay until straining, sweating he was exhausted, and had to pee. I told him 'later' and kissed him all over, licked his salty face and armpits, sucked and nibbled on his tiny nipples, down his belly and around his spongy yielding ball sac and finally teasing his lovely little rod until he squirmed uncontrollably. Such a perfect child! When he was desperately insisting he could hold his pee no longer I quickly placed a strong paper clamp over the stretched tip of his foreskin and tied his wrists behind his back.
I carried him into the bathroom and bent him over the heavy slat bench. I threaded a length of hose onto a tap and forced water up his anus enjoying his growing discomfort. When it could hold no more I allowed Jojo to flush himself. I repeated the procedure three times thoroughly cleansing him before with greased fingers I probed and stretched his sphincter, already reddened from Ramon's ramming, to well past his threshold of pain. He bore it bravely. Then I filled him up again, a bit more pressure this time, and forced a study plug into his asshole. I tied him down on his back to the slat bench, securely but not too uncomfortably as I didn't want him to be distracted from the other discomforts I planned to inflict. I tied or taped every appendage including his fingers so he couldn't move at all and would feel most helpless. Wide tape wrapped tightly around his belly increased the pressure inside. Jojo complained bitterly about his unusual torture but I merely smiled and reminded him of our agreement. Then I gagged his saucy little mouth and stuck black tape over his protesting eyes, and just before I stuffed his ears with batting I told him I would be gone til morning. I walked away with heavy steps, snuck back and sat down near him with a book to read.
I was pleased to see how little my pledgling could actually move despite his sometimes straining muscles. And then his face would work away, futilely trying to loosen the tape on his mouth and eyes. Gradually his bursts of struggling became less frequent and he seemed to relax. My reading was only disturbed by the occasional muted mumble. After a couple of chapters I paused to wonder what was going on in his mind. I know that time can pass extremely slowly for young boys. Boredom is perhaps the cruellest torture we inflict on the young, the thought gave me special gratification at the time. I decided to not let flies bother him anymore. In less than an hour his bladder gave, his clamped foreskin bulging with piss. And I could tell the pressure in his bowels was building up. His faint movements became more those of discomfort than struggle. He was suffering and I wished I'd left more of his face exposed so I could enjoy its pained expressions
Half an hour later when he was temporarily calm I began tickling him ever so lightly with a feather. Then I worked him up to a desperate struggle, his boyish muscles tensing rock hard, before I stopped, waited, and started again. Each time left him with bladder and bowel pressures increased. At almost two hours I loosened the clamp and directed the stream onto his face, and I let him soak in it for a while before I removed the batting and the gag. Then I washed off his urine with my own watching him shudder and splutter, anger overcoming agony for the moment. He was, he told me later, quite impressed by this trial. I unplugged him and showered him off with his eyes still taped and his hands tied behind his back. I poked, smacked and punched him, short of causing bruises and was pleased that my roughness seamed to excite his little prick. In bed both his lips and anus enthusiastically served me, and I made my love to him before I untied him and we slept.
After breakfast Jojo took me past the Mango Tree to the Bamboo Grove. He told me they sometimes call it 'kiddies cane garden' because it's only for little boys, up to eleven, who are not old enough to pledge. "I go there lots of times, but now more money at Mango Tree. When we arrived there were half a dozen little naked boys, some no more than seven, with their buddies in white and red loincloths who serve as their agents and protectors and who make a small commission. We watched as two trim bearded Americans took turns using a light cane on the bottom of a sweet faced child of eight until the same number of neat red welts lay across his ass.
When it was over Jojo looked up at me, "I like do that, only whip. Need practise. You pay for me, I let you have extra spanking." I agreed and Jojo excitedly ran over to one of the youngest boys, whom he apparently knew, and negotiated with him and his buddy. He returned with a short stinging whip and the little boy who he introduced as Danny Boy. "Only fifty dollar 'cause he's my friend." I looked Danny Boy over, his belly had not yet slimmed and his delicate face radiated innocence. I wondered if they had made a deal to get some extra money, but then Jojo really dished it out' to his friend. Jojo made him stand with his hands folded in front of his face and after he'd taken a couple of practice swipes in the air he landed a hard one across Danny Boy's puny chest. Danny Boy just stood there unconcerned but Jojo was delighted with his blow and wanted me to feel the welt he'd raised. Jojo lashed out with all his strength again and again, nicking Danny Boy's little pecker with the last one. That cost me ten dollars extra.
After Jojo had completed his allowable eight and Danny Boy had left, other boys came over to offer their skin for our pleasure. One was a particularly cherubic lad with golden unmarked skin but apprehensive eyes. His red loined buddy came over. "You try, you feel bum. Good? His name Louie, Him first time, like you say 'virgin'. You be first to whip." I was studying the tempting texture of his baby soft flesh when Ali arrived. He stood there quite amused, arm in arm with two boys, who judging from their fresh welts, he'd just worked out on. "Ah, a virgin.. I see," Then he confided to me, "You must be very patient with beginners but never hold back on your stroke." At Ali's suggestion I asked for a cane. "Seventy dollar, seven hits," his buddy told me. I asked the golden cherub if he was scared and the lad shook his head. He bent over proffering his puny posterior to the cane. My fingers explored the tiny soft, muscles of his buttocks and thighs and I told him to be brave and not cry. He tried to smile but his fear showed through. He looked over his shoulder as I wound up and the cane went singing through the air stinging his soft mounds sharply. my little cherub winced and shuddered momentarily but nodded that he was OK and bent over to receive my next blow which stung him an inch from the first. He did not wince this time and the final three I spread around to just above the knees. When he turned around there were tears in his eyes and he had to stifle his sobs but he had stood the test well. Ali congratulated the boy and me saying the same seven strokes, without patience, might have left the boy screaming. The money soon dried his tears and he ran off proudly to display his bright red welts to his friends and boast of his bravery. "Ah," Ali remarked, "It is a pleasure to see boys head home happy with bruises on their bottoms and money in their hands."
The trim bearded Americans were having an argument with a small Kymer lad and were getting nowhere. They wanted him to lick their boots and wear a collar but the boy refused despite a very generous offer. "Ah," Ali commented, "they want him to play slave, I have seen guests try before but the boys will have no part of it. It is a matter of pride and their friends would make fun of them." We all soon left for the longhouse where the Blood Pledge Rite was about to begin. Jojo would be pledging and Paul would be wielding a ceremonial cutting whip.
Almost a hundred boys from about ten to eighteen were clustered around the walls of the longhouse. Except for the unpledged like Jojo they all wore scant white, red or blue loincloths. Ali explained that the older boys in blue were cutlings who'd already been circumcised and were mainly there to direct the rituals. The red clad lads were whiplings, thirteen to fifteen, who'd bled from the whips for the pledge. Several like Paul would be cut tomorrow. The youngsters in white were pledges and we had come to watch some of them bleed today. Jojo excitedly went around to his friends telling them he had a sponsor, and he came back with Sammy, his beautiful, big eyed Mestizo friend. I found it difficult not to stare at his handsome body which appeared ready to burst his sizes too small tank top and shorts. "My friend Sammy. I tell you, he pledge today too." Jojo announced. He certainly seemed well endowed for an eleven year old if one could believe the bulge in his crotch. I was wondering who his lucky sponsor was when a burly Australian with the accent of the Outback appeared and led him away.
Paul arrived with a buddy in blue and we followed him and Ali to a corner where the whip wielders were to be costumed. Paul and the five other boys who were to bleed the whiplings removed their red loincloths. Thin horizontal scars from his own initiation to the cutting whip were clearly visible on his chest and buttocks. His buddy brought over a large thin leather case and opened it for Ali. Inside in a dazzling display were over a hundred beaded, tasselled ornaments, each with a sharp hook on one end. These I gathered were to be Paul's costume. Most of them were about seven inches long with nine heavy red, white and blue beads near the hook end and a golden fibre tassel on the other. Ali took Paul's arm and starting at the wrist began hooking ornaments into Paul's skin along the outside of his arm about an inch apart. Then he proceeded to hook them in down Paul's side and the outside of his legs finishing at the ankles. Paul's buddy worked down his other side although Jojo got to try a few. Paul said the pain was slight. Then his buddy brought out two bigger much heavier ornaments with thick pointed hooks. Ali took one of Paul's purplish tinged nipples, already tender, swollen with the rush of puberty, and pinched and rolled and squeezed it until it stood out firmly erect. Then he inserted the point just below the tip and pulled it up through and out the top and back.. He worked slowly I believe to maximize the pain. Ali offered me the "honour" of pinning Paul's other nipple. I thanked him. Following his procedure I soon had the cone erect and I was surprised at the strength it took to force the point of the hook through and to stretch the skin around it. Paul regarded me calmly with his dark eyes although I knew his pain must be great. Next eight, foot long but thin ornaments with small hooks were brought out. Ali got Jojo to stiffen Paul's cock which he eagerly did with his mouth. Ali then drew back the foreskin, exposing the rosy red glans, and began hooking the ornaments through the loose skin encircling the shaft. Jojo, eager but clumsy, got to do the last one. Paul's costume was now complete and he stepped forward and spun around, the beaded tassels swirling like the fringes of buckskin jacket, and then with him moving and shaking his body the dangling beads rattled rhythmically. The costume was magnificent.
When all six whip wielders were ready, long tapered black leather whips, the cutting whips, were handed to them, and a drum began to beat slowly at first. The decorated youths moved out to the centre of the longhouse and began a graceful, obviously rehearsed dance, slashing the air with their whips. Gradually the drum beat picked up speed, the dancers began moving faster, prancing and twirling, the swish and the snap of the long whips blending with the rattle of the beads. Their bodies were glistening with sweat as the dance built up to a frenzy. Then the drums stopped, the dancers moved aside and a new slow measured beat started up.
From the back of the room a file of boys in long white capes entered with a slow paced ceremonial walk. These were the pledges who were to be initiated to the cutting whips and provide the blood for the new pledglings. Each took a place on a foot high pedestal like log section arranged down the centre of the longhouse. At a signal from the drum they tossed off their white capes and stood naked before us. They would wear white no more. All had clean lithe bodies and most had at least a few dark hairs sprouting from their pubes. They stood there motionless with their arms stretched out over their heads. At another signal from the drum red clad buddies appeared carrying bowls of coconut oil for the anointing of the whiplings to be, and their sponsors came forward, old Tom was among them, and began rubbing their bodies with the oil. Their genitals seemed to get special attention and most ended up with hardons. "The oil," Ali explained, is supposed to increase the pain but I think it is mainly an added touch for the benefit of the sponsors, extra money in other words." The new pledges will lash the areas to be cut with multi thonged stinging whips. They will not draw blood but they soften the skin, make it swell and bring blood to the surface so the boys will bleed more freely from the long ceremonial whips. I'm sure you'll enjoy the show." With the anointing over the boys to be whipped looked like shiny, living statues on their pedestals, the muscles on their lean bodies gleaming with highlights. The drums began again, a series of long slow rolls, and the shiny living statues went through a series of stylized poses, thrusting out towards us their chests, thighs, backs, bellies and buttocks. These I found out were the parts to be offered to the cutting whips.
Jojo came up to me. "I go pledge now." he said excitedly taking off his ragged cutoffs and shirt and handing them to me. He ran towards the whiplings joined by Sammy and four others. Now I saw Sammy's enormous cock and thick curly patch that would flatter most sixteen year olds. I noticed Ali watching him, probably already making plans for his foreskin as he spoke, "Ah, a case of precocious puberty, how interesting and rare, such a giant toy for pleasure and pain on so young a boy."
A blue loined youth assigned the pledglings places and handed them the multi thonged stingers. The pledges practised, flailing the air and trying to look fearsome until the drum began a long roll. Immediately the whiplings posed with chests stuck out, arms folded across their faces and the pledges began thrashing them across the chest. Jojo worked at his task enthusiastically, reddening and ridging a five inch swath across the breast of the pale, solemn Amerasian lad in front of him. Jojo seemed to be enjoying himself, his hardon wagging like a puppy's tail. Backhand and forehand blows landed in quick succession, I counted well over twenty before the drum began another roll and the pledges rotated positions and the whiplings posed as if to dive with their asses thrust back facing us. Jojo moved on to the tubby Chinese boy and his place was taken by a dark, wiry Afroasian lad. I watch him redden to a glow the pale boy's buttocks. The process continued until each of the whiplings had five tenderized patches on his body ready for the long whips to bleed. Jojo, I'd been surprised at his energy, came over to us dripping with sweat and a broad smile on his face. I patted his shoulder and asked him if he was having a good time. "Oh very much yes. I like to whip." And when I playfully touched his still stiff prick he added, "Him like too."
At a new, rhythmical beat from the drum the tasselled whip wielders moved in, dancing among the whiplings and cracking their whips in the air. Then each took a place in front of a pedestalled boy, Paul faced the Amerasian. The beat stopped and there was absolute silence. Then Paul along with the others started caressing his whiplings body with the whip making it curl and slither around his body and thighs, playfully, teasingly. I was impressed by Paul's skill especially when his whip coiled harmlessly between the Amerasians legs just lightly grazing his long pendant cock. Ali said he'd practised for months. After a few minutes of this mock torment Paul's whip lashed out loudly across the pale boy's chest and a red, soon bloody gash formed cutting through both his nipples. Two more strokes a few seconds apart left parallel cuts. Blood oozed, the flowed and began dripping down his body but even though you could see the force of the blows impacting through his body he maintained his pose. The Chinese boy received his chest cuts next and so it went down the line. Some boys lost their balance from the blows, stepping off their pedestals, but all bravely climbed back up to face the whip. All six were soon bleeding freely. Jojo and the other pledges ran out and caught the dripping blood and smeared it on themselves, covering their faces and chests. The dancers twisting and waving their whips rotate positions and Paul now faced the plump Chinese boy who shifted his pose with his legs further apart and his pelvis thrust forward. After a couple of teasing strokes Paul abruptly lashed him across his belly opening a cut across his pubes and the soft folds at the top of his thighs. Two more strokes followed each generously rewarded by oozing blood. Jojo smeared more blood on himself and grinned proudly at us. As the whips continued their lacerations on the backs, buttocks and thighs the pledglings almost became ecstatic, rubbing themselves against the whiplings bodies, smearing the blood around. Both sets of boys were thoroughly smeared red and what a pledgling missed on himself the others touched up for him from the whiplings still oozing wounds. Jojo and Sammy wrestled, tumbling to the ground and getting covered with dirt. The others joined them in a dogpile where they were all goosing and grabbing at each other. Sammy made a show of jacking his precocious member with blood until it was too dry and sticky for that purpose. Then the pledglings paraded their blood and dirt covered bodies around to their friends, laughing and boasting how they'd take the tests to come. They had pledged themselves with the whiplings blood, the first stage in their initiation which would culminate in circumcision some four years later.
The whiplings remained standing on their pedestals looking weak and literally drained but their ordeal was not yet over. A dozen older boys arrived with buckets of salt sea water to clean them off. Buddies supported the whiplings as their sponsors poured the water over them and sponged the dry blood off. This was one of their honours. Ali said the worst cuts would be taped closed so that they would have only the thinnest of scars. The Amerasian, looking very pale was still bleeding from his left nipple which would probably need to be taped. Two buddies held on to him as his sponsor, a Frenchman, sponged his body and swabbed his cuts with the searing salt solution. The lad already dazed from his ordeal gasped and grimaced in agony as the new pain burnt into his flesh, but he managed to bear it all bravely and afterwards walked on his own.
Jojo ran ahead with the other pledges and I followed them down to the river by the big mango tree where their testing would take place. I waded into the water with Jojo where his buddy and I washed off the blood and lathered him all over with soap. Jojo playful jacked his finger sized prick rolling his eyes in mock ecstasy while his buddy and other boys laughed. Then he and the rest of the pledges plunged into the clear flowing water and swam for a while before gathering under the mango tree. I watched as Jojo reached up while his buddy tied his wrist to the ropes hanging from a low spreading branch. Jojo's legs were then spread about two feet apart and his buddy tied his ankles to stakes in the ground so he was partly suspended. His buddy picked a ripe mango and let Jojo chew on it, the juice running down his taut body as they waited for the others. Soon all six naked pledges were similarly hung in a semi circle around us. A large crowd of boys, mostly very young, had come to take part in the test. "Ah, it is good," said Ali who'd just arrived, "to see so many youngsters come to try their hand with the lash, They're allowed three strokes on each of the pledges, for good luck they say. Aside from their games it's the only chance that they get and it encourages them to taste the other end. You'll find many of them at the Bamboo Grove later.
Jojo's buddy approached me proffering the lash. "Jojo want you have honour, first three. "I looked over to Jojo who wiggled seductively at me and nodded. Taking the whip I examined his perfect little body again. The slender limbs and tiny cock, hard once more, and all his lovely soft skin I'd fondled the night before and was now about to draw angry red lines on. Jojo smiled at me proudly. Standing to the side I gave Jojo a measured stroke across his small firm buttocks, the tip curling around and snapping on his belly. "More hard for good luck." his buddy complained. Jojo nodded and arched his back slightly pushing his chest and belly forward. This time I stood in front of him and gave him a hard, stinging blow diagonally across his little chest which left a neat red line. Jojo only blinked momentarily and his buddy looked pleased. My last blow crossed the previous one making and "X" on his front.
About ten small boys were clamouring for their turns, the first in line was an urchin of eight, who danced excitedly as he took the lash in hand. He took his three turns swinging wildly, catching Jojo on his belly and thighs, but I doubt if he extracted much pain from his efforts before another lad had his turn. Jojo seemed to know most of his testers and joked with some while being whipped. The two neatly dressed ten year olds from the Garden Path landed some hard blows on his ass, but most of the youngsters while eager were not too effective with their strokes.
But his bravado did not last to the end. He flinched when a boy caught his penis accidentally, and grimaced when his raw breast was flailed. Half an hour later when all the small boys had their turns each of the pledglings bodies was crisscrossed with more than a hundred thin weals, but none cried out though most were slightly bloodied from their ordeal. Sammy was certainly the most popular with the small boys, probably because of his large cock which caught several blows.
After they had been untied the pledglings mingled with their small admirers who reverently examined and touched their welts. Jojo seemed to enjoy the attention.
Late in the afternoon with the light from a gold and mauve sunset flooding into the darkened hall of the longhouse we assembled again. After a hushed wait while the sky outside became crimson tinged a solitary drum began picking out a slow march beat and the pledges entered in a file carrying torches and walking with slow proud dignity to the centre of the hall where they formed a semi circle with their arms and torches raised high. Then suddenly at a signal from the drum the pledges threw their torches on a dark pile in front of them which erupted into brilliant flames - a huge bonfire which must have been soaked in gasoline. Each in turn stepped forward to display his welted naked body in the dancing light of the flames, turning and tracing with his fingers the darkening lines decorating his form. Some bore newer and rawer weals no doubt the ministrations of their impatient sponsors. Jojo gave me a smug grin as he traced the still discernible "X" I had worked into his front earlier. As each boy returned to his place a blue clad youth wrapped a white cloth around his loins, placed a simple necklace of sampaguitas on his shoulders and kissed his forehead. The pledges sat down and all was silent for several minutes while the fire died down and the sunset turned a sombre red. At a new signal from the drum, joined this time by the piercing notes of a flute, the whiplings made their entry. Their torches made the dying bonfire, somehow refuelled, burst forth with even greater brilliance. The whiplings danced around the fire showing off their lacerated flesh and stopping momentarily to assume their pedestal postures. Interested spectators went over to more closely examine their often still oozing wounds before the blue clad youth went up to each and placed a long loose cloak of bright red cloth around his shoulders and a blood red hibiscus in his hair and embraced him firmly. The confirmation ceremony was over although the pledges' ordeals had just begun.
The electric lights came on blindingly at first. Jojo raced over and plopped himself on my lap, all proud smiles. While we enjoyed the refreshments served by a team of blue loined lads Jojo guided my hand to the springy finger in his crotch. I ran my hand over the ridges on his body noticing some raw spots that would take a few days to heal. I asked him how he like the lash. "Oh, hurt more than stinger. More pain than cane. Like I go all time to Bamboo Grove, many tourists like to whip me because cute. But make more money now at Mango Tree. Whip pain OK. Go away quick. Not bad pain like sick or hungry".
I took Jojo back to my hut early that evening, I was anxious for play and the extra 'spanking' he owed me. I informed him he'd had an easy day so far as I examined his small body closely. Most of the swellings were gone but there wasn't much unmarked skin to abuse except around his shoulders, hands and lower legs. I considered using a light strap on his shoulders and the inside of his thighs where his flesh could still absorb a fair number of blows but it would limit my opportunities for the morrow. Then I noticed his right nipple was completely free of blemishes, and although it was a tiny tit to torture I decided to do my best. I found two good sized darning needles in my kit and reminded Jojo of his promises. He'd been fascinated when Paul's nipples had been pierced and seemed curious now. "Instead of spank?" he asked. I told him he would still get a special spanking later for his practice session at the Bamboo Grove.
Discomfort began to show on his sweet intelligent face as I dug my thumbnail into his tit and twisted. Changing my grip and twisting harder I made the nipple and areolas swell to almost twice their former size giving me more to work on. Jojo remained calm standing hands on hips and watching intently. To be fair I abused his other only slightly bruised but nicely pretenderized tit. Soon both were erect, enraged and glowing a deep red. It was time for the needles. I took one, slowly pushing it in allowing him plenty of time to feel the painful stretching of the tapered point so unlike, the quick prick and it's over, of chiselled hypodermic needles. I was pleased to feel him tense and see him grimace. The shiny point emerged the other side. Even a young boy's nipple flesh is fairly tough I noticed as I forced the needle half way through. I also noticed that Jojo's fascination seemed greater than his pain as I pushed a needle through his other tit. Then I threaded the eyes with cotton, knotting the ends, and pulled the needles completely through leaving a handy for pulling, foot of thread dangling from each nipple. I let Jojo play with the threads, experimenting with the pain, while I fondled his prick getting him hard again.
With Jojo still standing I pulled the rough thread back and forth several times through the piercings to demonstrate the fiery effect until the threads were soggy with his lymph and blood. Concerned that numbness might be setting in I began yanking vigorously drawing sharp peaks of flesh over an inch out from his chest. Then I tied his wrists to his ankles and sat him on my lap impaling him through his tight little sphincter. I had him ride me as I tugged on the reins to control his pace and finally to make him squirm and contract all the better for my pleasure.
I removed the threads from his raw but now nicely plump nipples and gave them each a final pinch - to increase the circulation I told him. Jojo had handled his first test well and I was pleased with his pluck. He didn't seem particularly concerned when I told him I had something very painful in store for him next. "I be good pledge." But first we shared a light meal of fish in a sweet and sour sauce, one of his favourite dishes he'd told me, which I'd specially ordered. He hadn't lost his appetite. After, I wiped the sauce off his chin and laid out some pillows on the floor so Jojo would be comfortable while I subjected him to next agony. He lay face down upon them and seemed curious as to my plans. I examined the soles of his feet, good sturdy boy feet, pleasant pink patches on his golden brown body. I gave him a thorough foot massage to soothe him for the trial and sensitize them for the suffering to follow. I rubbed my thumbs into the pads of his feet, firmly stroked the arches, and I stretched and cracked each one of his toes and wiggled them. Then I taped his legs and ankles securely together and taped his feet up to the edge of the bed with the soles facing upward. I told him the special spanking to pay for his practices was to have his soles beaten with a bamboo cane. My pledgling didn't know quite what to expect, he'd often had the light cane on his ass, and I assured him he would not be disappointed and that it might be more than he could take. For the thicker skin on the soles of his feet I took a cane somewhat heavier than he was used to. Jojo squirmed around to look at me positioned over him. I laid the cane on solidly, with the blows falling a few seconds apart so the pain would build up relentlessly with no respite. From surprise his face turned to agony and desperation as I continued my regular strokes. I knew his feet must feel like on fire as new flashes of sharp pain overlaid the deep throbbing and aches. When it was all he could do to keep himself from screaming. I stopped, tenderly stroked his neck and wiped the tears from his face, and told him how proud I was and kissed him on the forehead and hugged him - then I gave him another eight. He lay there whimpering and sobbing, he'd been to his limit and perhaps a bit beyond. I undid the tape, lifted him onto the bed and asked him how he like his torment. His sullen eyes looked at me resentfully, I could see he had spirit still, "Too much hurt.... Pain not go away .... You test me too hard." I cuddled him close to me and after a few minutes I massaged his feet again feeling their tenderness and then I made him walk around for a while. We each had a drink and relaxed for a while, Jojo's composure returning. I fondled him for a while, his little prick responding, before telling him I'd neglected his hands. I had him stand with both arms thrust forward palms up and alternating with a heavy strap laid on a dozen hard strokes, studying his reactions closely. He clasped his burning hands to his chest and it was some time before he recovered and his rod responded to my touch. I loved him gently with my lips and fingertips before we slept.
Ali was already there when Jojo and I arrived at the longhouse for breakfast. Paul was with him but not eating as is customary for boys on their circumcision day. Afterwards at Ali's suggestion we went over to the grotto by the riverbank to watch Ky, the Vietnamese boy who was to circumcise himself. I remembered him as the big eyed athletic lad who'd wielded the whip so well on the tubby Chinese boy at the blood pledge ceremony. Ky had agreed with his sponsor, an older Englishman, to perform the cut of many cuts upon himself. Apparently there were substantial bonuses involved depending on how many times he succeeded. A number of the foreign guests and dozens of eager boys gathered around to watch. The morning sun shining through the foliage above spotlighted a small wood topped table in the centre of the grotto floor as Ky and his sponsor with several selected guests approached. Solemnly Ky shook his sponsor's hand and strode briskly up to the table. He took off his red loincloth and flung it to the ground, he would never wear it again. He looked around proudly at the audience, tossed his long straight hair back and with his well formed legs slightly apart he laid his penis on the table top. It was long and veined with rich dark folds of foreskin. Looking upward, his shoulders back and chest out he manipulated his member semi-hard. He pulled out his foreskin firmly, stretching it with his strength, and pinched and rolled it vigorously between his fingers, digging his nails in, applying lesser pain to numb the greater pain to come. Then Ky picked up the bolo knife beside him and studied its razor sharp edge with his big expressive eyes. He bent his head forward and pushed his foreskin out along the wooden surface with one hand while the other was poised with the bolo an inch above. Absolute silence prevailed and I ran my hand down Jojo's front and felt his rock hard little prick, I could tell he was enjoying the performance too. After a minute Ky seemed to catch his breath then slowly and determinedly he sliced, eyes blinking, cleanly cutting off the tip. This he picked up with the point of the bolo and gracefully passed to his sponsor. Ky took a deep breath this time, gritting his teeth, and sliced his skin again, a very then ring, and flicked it with the bolo to one of the sponsor's friends. Blood was oozing out making the boy's work more difficult but again he sliced and flicked the thin ring of skin to another of his friends. Ky's body was dripping sweat and shaking slightly but the look of purpose did not leave his face. The last three slices he did all in a row with quick determination and as if exhausted half collapsed into a buddy's arms when it was done. An older boy examined his penis and with the other boy's help, Ky's bleeding cock was once more laid upon the table while the older boy cut off a ragged end. Ky, bleeding freely stood alone, shook his sponsor's hand again and walked down to the river to rinse. Murmurs arose in the crowd like a muted applause, little boys reaching under their loin cloths fondled their hardons and pinched their own foreskins in awe for what they'd seen. Ky's sponsor was enthusiastic, he said he hadn't seen such raw courage and guts since the war, when a comrade had to cut off his own foot.
Ali was also impressed, "You have just seen why the Americans could not win in Viet Nam." And then he leant over to Paul and said, "Wait until you see and feel the torture I have planned for you." Paul looked up at him and smiled, rubbing his scabbed nipples still sore from yesterday's hooks, "We see, Mr Ali. I go to meditate first." Jojo and I followed Ali down to the mango tree where he found four willing boys to flog for his morning workout before we met Paul at the longhouse.
Paul was waiting for us, his sombre eyes calm, his body relaxed. Two buddies, one an older boy of eighteen were there for support. Paul climbed up on the narrow table and lay back with his head raised so he could see, his slender naked body seeming much smaller than it did before. His older buddy took Paul's cock and drawing his foreskin forward and the back marked with a ballpoint pen the maximum skin that could be removed. Guests and other boys crowded around the table, Jojo stood in front of me, elbows on the table and his eyes inches from Paul's soon to be tormented organ.. Ali began by stroking Paul's small patch of silky hairs and rubbing his beautifully symmetrical cock until it hardened. He firmly fingered the flesh he was to flay and kissed the rosy, fine featured knob. Ali reached into his robes and brought out a bundle of pointed, polished sticks. He gave me one to examine, it was about four inches long and very sharp, tapering to almost 1/4 inch at the thick end. I could not guess how he intended to use them. Paul seemed uncertain too. Ali had an hour to inflict his ordeal. Pulling back the almost iridescent blue tinged folds Ali took a pinch along the bottom of Paul's penis and slowly started pushing the point of a stick through it parallel with the length. I saw the muscles of Paul's body tighten and heard his breathing become irregular as the point entered, stretched the skin and slowly emerged on the other side. Paul's buddies held his hands and stroked his neck to comfort and reassure him. Ali pushed hard on the stick to enlarge the hole, stretching and finally tearing the skin around it. Paul suddenly looked younger than his fifteen years. The extreme pain, and fear, were obvious from his face but he stood it stoically. Jojo, eyes glued to the operation grabbed my hand and placed it on his tiny stiff prick which I rubbed and pinched for him. Sweat formed on Paul's handsome face moistening the hazy smudge of fine dark hairs above his sensuous lips, but his eyes remained wide open, watching. Ali repeated the torture directly opposite on the top of Paul's penis, forcing it through slowly to draw out the pain for the grimacing boy. Next the skin on the sides of the youngsters shaft were similarly pierced and I began to understand what Ali was doing. He was using the tapered sticks to stretch and tear the foreskin free, a most excruciatingly painful method he had devised. Paul was sweating profusely and his boyish body twitched involuntarily as each new point was thrust through but he made no sign to struggle or cry out. The ring of foreskin was stretched taunt by the time eight evenly spaced sticks encircled Pauls's shaft. Ali stopped his labours, "A rest," he said and ordered Cokes which he shared with Paul and his buddies. "Ah, my brave lad, you take it well. I like that. Few men could do the same. But I have not finished yet. I am a gambler and do not like to lose a bet. Paul slowly took another sip of Coke, wiped his face and replied defiantly. "I will WIN I must win the money'." Paul's buddies wiped his body down with cool water to refresh him for his continuing ordeal. Jojo fascinated, reached forward to touch Pauls's ring of half severed skin, and played with the sticks to find out how hard they were to push. Jojo looked around at me in awe and taking one of the extra sticks he experimentally touched it to his own tiny prepuce which he'd stretched over the end of his knob. Then gingerly at first he pushed on the stick, got the point in and pushed til it just pierced through. "Oh: very much pain." he said looking up at me.
Ali leant over Paul and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders looking him in the eyes, and kissed him on the forehead. And then without haste Ali began inserting additional sticks between those already there. The holes started tearing through to each other, ripping the flesh. Paul was exhausted from the pain but he made no move to struggle or cry out. There was only ten minutes left. After the last stick had been shoved through only a few strands of skin still connected the foreskin to the shaft, these Ali snipped, and he took the now detached ring of skin and slid it onto his finger holding up his hand so all could see. "A souvenir of your courage my friend." Ali said respectfully to Paul. Then taking one of the buddies bolos Ali deftly sliced off the ring of bruised and torn skin of Paul's remaining foreskin to make it a clean cut and blood flowed at last. Paul was able to smile as the money was counted out and he shook Ali's hand firmly before his buddies walked him down to the sea to wash off in the surf. He had probably just purchased his freedom from the stifling confines of Dar Lan.
"Ah," sighed Ali, "I could afford to lose but he couldn't. He earned it every cent. I only wish I could have whipped him too, such beautiful delicate skin. But with his winnings I doubt if he'll be here when I return.
Jojo dragged me back to my hut. He was excited by all that he'd seen. Inside he immediately pulled down his loincloth and tugged at my arm. I saw he'd taken the second ring of Paul's foreskin and slipped it onto his cock. He appeared almost anxious for his own next torture to begin
Although my pledglings young hide was still crisscrossed with fine lines the swelling was gone except for his nipples. I examined his small lithe body, only a few sore places remained, his flesh was ready to be punished again. I believe Jojo was aware of that too, as he watched the expression in my face. I decided on something fairly light for Jojo's first trial of the evening, but I didn't plan to tell him. I would save his backside for a heavy flogging later which would complete my own testing of the lad. Jojo was oiling the lash as ordered when he looked up and said, "Many marks on me, Maybe you like other boy? I get nice boy for you to whip." The idea appealed to me, a last night splurge, but after Ali's toll I wondered if there were any unmarked handsome lads left to lash in Dar Lan. I said I liked the idea but warned him not to expect any less for himself, he still had two good spankings left and I planned to leave his rump red, raw and bleeding. My pledgling looked disappointed and pouted but cheered up when I added that there might be some fun for himself if he found a good youngster to whip. "I find nice cutling for you, older boy best because whip more times." I agreed but told him he must first submit to a test.
I tied Jojo up facing me spreadeagled to a strong lattice wall, his feet just touching the floor. He could still move and wiggle a bit. Then I took small pieces of tape and covered his curious eyes. so he couldn't see, I knew he wouldn't like that. I would miss their reactions to my tortures but there was other fun in it for me. Grabbing his balls as if to crush them I stretched his symmetrical sac and tied a cord around it so his little bean sized testes couldn't slip back. I began jerking on the cord but gently, hinting there was much more to come. I could tell he was worried by this, but I soon tired of this tease, so I tied the cord back through the lattice, anchoring his balls securely to it. He had to keep perfectly still as any movement of his pelvis would case him great pain. After leaving him alone, without word or touch for some minutes I stroked his penis lightly, it stiffened to my touch and then I brought out my needles again. Pulling his tiny foreskin back I started pricking on his pecker but not hard enough to pierce, stippling his little glans with pin point pain sensations. Jojo's face showed consternation but I'd never seen his cock so hard before. I continued pricking gently, outlining every detail of his organ for several minutes before I stopped and asked him how he liked it. "Oh, pain scare me but not hurt too much." I told my pledgling to be patient and that his real torture would start soon. After sucking on him for a minute I took out a short light strap to torment him with, and it would be all the better as he couldn't see. Seeking out his softer, more sensitive parts I began applying the strap to him without warning; the soft inside of his thighs, below his armpits on the thinly fleshed ribs and, of course his still hairless pubes and the tender folds each side. Sometimes a token tap, sometimes a vicious, stinging blow, and part of my pleasure and his torment was that he didn't know when or where I'd strike. Only once did he jerk, and get his tiny testicles garrotted by the cord quite painfully. I played this game, interspersed by fondling episodes, for many minutes until several patches glowed through his golden skin, but his body wasn't that much worse from wear. I removed the tape from his blinking eyes and sucked him hard before untying him.
Jojo stretched and limbered his limbs, and was surprised there were no marks on his cock. "You scare me much. I try sometime? You like other boy now?" I nodded and he slipped on his loincloth went out to the porch and whistled a long and short. Seconds later a tall muscular blue loined youth, a buddy who'd been staying nearby, came bounding up the steps. He had dark eyes and fuzz on his lip like Paul, his name was OB and he said he was sixteen and had only been cut two months before. I asked him how and he answered, "Tourist cut with old Illongi stone knife," he made a sawing motion with his hand, "Take very long time to cut." OB did not come cheap and I promised him double what he could make at the mango tree in the morning. But his skin was so supple and smooth and I liked the way his muscles rippled when he moved.
We tied OB down securely to the bed face up with his legs spread wide apart. I fondled and admired his magnificent long member sprouting from a clump of dark hair, and I dug my fingers into the hard muscles which seemed to flow beneath his soft skin. And my pledgling liked fondling him too. Then I whispered a suggestion to Jojo. His eyes lit up, he'd heard of the torture and he looked down at OB with a big grin on his face. "Now?" he asked. I nodded and my pledgling dove in between the spreadeagled legs. He began massaging the older boy's body, each stroke ending up at the crotch, and he soon had him proudly erect. Then Jojo worked on his balls quite roughly, squeezing and kneading them and pulling them out to the end of the sac, and digging his fingertips in around the base of his prick. And for a joke he pretended to pound them with his fist. Then little Jojo sucked on the big boy's balls, fingered his asshole and rubbed he base of his shaft. My pledgling continued his efforts for ten minutes avoiding the sensitive end of OB's cock. I took pity on Jojo and gave him a rest, teasing OB's genitals until a pearl of pre cum emerged. Then I had Jojo take over again, he vigorously sucked on the end of the knob giving as much as he could. OB came, I could see the pulses going through his piss tube but Jojo didn't stop. He redoubled his effort as OB squirmed and tried to buck him off like a bronco. But Jojo hung on and continued, using his small hands as well while I tried to hold the older lad still. In the agony of overstimulation OB's muscles stood out in relief from his struggles as he desperately tugged at the ropes. I allowed the torture to continue until I saw that OB was frantic and exhausted in more ways than one.
After untying OB we relaxed for a while, the two boys were just dripping with sweat. I served them refreshments and when Jojo had finished his drink I held my little pledgling while OB, with a finger deep in his ass, suctioned his tiny prick. Jojo was soon squirming, "It tickles!" he squealed. Soon he was writhing wrenching, anguish contorting his face. I let him go after a minute having had him taste the torture he was not old enough to fully appreciate.
Jojo was quiet for a few moments but then he impatiently asked, "Can we whip OB now?" The cutling had agreed to three dozen strokes with the lash, the strap or the cane. He tried to be nonchalant as we suspended him from a rafter in the centre of the room so that all parts of his body were accessible for our pleasures. I decided to let my pledgling have the honour and laid out the tools for his fancy and use, and I reclined on the bed to watch. Jojo walked round the helpless youth and threatened him with each instrument in turn. OB did not seem impressed and made fun of the younger boy to bolster his own bravado. I could see it would be a contest. Then Jojo got the tape and covered OB's eyes, a good move on his part I felt. Then he took the lash silently circled the blinkered boy poking his fingers into the unblemished flesh and lashing the air to test the cutlings ears. After a few more of these "misses" my pledgling landed a wicked slash across the stretched muscles on the youth's ribs, taking him by surprise. "One," Jojo cried out the circled some more before coiling a mean, snapping stroke around OB's waist, "Two," he called out. After raising six thin welts Jojo switched to the strap for a while and with much teasing worked over OB's ribs with slamming blows interspersed with strokes across the soft backs of his knees. Nor did he neglect the silky pubes, connecting twice less than an inch above his slim pendant cock. Later he employed the heavier cane on the thighs and more effectively on he cutling's stomach as if he were trying to subdue the rippling muscles there. Jojo was obviously enjoying his task, he had a wicked gleeful smile on his face and an almost perpendicular hardon waving about. Sometimes between blows Jojo would glance over to me, jack on his prick and show me where he intended to strike next. and after a few teases he would slam one on target. I felt he was handling the instruments quite skilfully. Once when I reminded my little pledgling that he was soon to suffer himself, OB laughed. Jojo angered, lashed again and again across the cutlings ribs which he had already softened with the strap. By the twenty ninth blow OB was bleeding. Jojo looked pleased, bowed briefly towards me and used his remaining strokes to enlarge the wound he'd started and bring forth a good flow of blood which he smeared on his face and genitals.
OB had earned his commission and was delighted when I told him he could help me with Jojo's last ordeal. I said he would suffer intensely, his buttocks being beaten bloody and raw, and that the pain would be deep and long lasting as I would be bruising his flesh to the bone. Jojo looked at me proudly, stood up and stuck out his chest, "I be brave, you see." While we paused for more refreshments I quietly explained my plans to OB. Jojo seemed determined and confident when I had him crouch down on the bed with his ass in the air. I lay down beside him, cradling his head to face mine so I could see into his big expressive eyes as the blows slammed into his butt. I cupped my other hand over his genitals, the little prick was still stiff, and I hooked a finger into his asshole so I could feel the sphincter contract from his agonies. After his own torment OB was eager. Thirty blows with cane and lash, almost a cutlings measure on his tiny ass. I signalled the caning to commence and as the first cruel stroke slammed loudly into his narrow buttocks I felt the impact transferred through his flesh. The shocks came at several second intervals. My pledgling's face remained grimly determined but strangely curious as if he were tasting the pain. But his little cock soon wilted and by the seventh solid blow his face showed he was hurting and having to fight. My finger began to feel contractions as the pain seared into my eleven year old's prepubescent bottom. After ten blows I called a timeout. A flaming red was glowing though his golden skin and I felt the ridges and general swelling. Jojo awkwardly got up to walk around. "Oh very sore, hurt much." He said as he felt his ass and looked at it in the mirror. As he gazed at me uncertainly I told him that was only the beginning, he had twenty more to come.
We returned to our positions and OB resumed his labours with the cane, laying it on with long, hard, graceful strokes. The already sore and swollen flesh began to glow darker and purplish blotches started to expand. Jojo was running into difficulty by the fourth blow this time. I could feel his increasingly irregular gasps on my shoulder as I cradled his pain warped face in my hands. His mouth was gritted, saliva bubbling out, his tear reddened eyes squeezed shut and contortions and contractions followed each strike. By the ninth his reactions were subsiding and I called another timeout at ten, for a total of twenty. I ran my hands lightly over the boy's badly bruised bottom. The swelling had increased and the flesh was raw and lost its tone, feeling pulpy. It would soon get rather messy with more caning. Jojo didn't want to get up, tears were running down his pretty pained face and he was dripping with sweat, but determination still showed in his expression and I knew he was not ready to plead. I fondled his bristly black hair and promised him his pick at the Mango Tree in the morning if he completed his test with style. He pulled himself to his feet and sullenly complained, "Oh hurt, much hurt. I do for money. Pain go all way in, not go away.... hurt much." I told him that was what I intended, the pain of his test was to be deep and lasting. I picked up my little pledgling, hugged him, kissed him sweetly and gently patting his tormented bum and told him it was now time for the lash and to bleed. I asked him if he was ready. He smiled and said, "OK, but I do for money. Not like, too much pain." I had him stand bent over, touching his toes to stretch the tender, swollen skin. After a couple of practice swings to tease I slashed him across the taunt, purpling flesh. Jojo flinched and blood formed along the cut. My pledgling stoically resumed his bent over position blood dripping down his legs. I caught him with another cut just below the first that produced a larger flow. Again he flinched but when he turned around I could see he could still handle more, his spirit was still there. He bent over once again and I reached out and felt his swollen, bleeding globes, and then I told him his test was over and that I was very leased. He looked at me more defiant than relieved touching his bloody bottom and then licking and sucking the blood off his finger.
He stood quietly while I carefully washed him off in the shower and helped him into clean, white robes. He remained standing while we had more refreshments and I brought out some English candies I'd been saving. Jojo perked up a bit when OB joked about his caning, indirectly complimenting him. And Jojo began thinking of the pain he'd endured, and how he could boast of his tests to his friends. He took pride in still burring buttocks becoming more cheerful again.
And afterwards I lay down beside my pledge's much abused body, and I'm sure the strain was still heavy on his mind. I gently caressed him and examined his multiple bruises and sores, and contemplated how their infliction had exalted my joy and the knowing of the boy. Words failed to explain my sentiments and respect so after asking permission I took his soft little penis in my mouth and leisurely sucked. It slowly became firm and began thrusting back. Then Jojo stopped, rose to his knees, "Hurt lying down." he said. He then climbed on top of my face, grabbing my hair to hold me down and began to fuck my mouth with hard deliberate strokes, his pelvis bone banging my nose. His glistening body, the muscles and welts highlighted by the angled light worked away energetically. He shot his blank and slept, not letting me touch him that night.
Jojo was still very sore the next morning, his ass was a horrible blue and walking uncomfortable for him. But he forgot about his pains when I paid him, including a generous tip. He practically skipped along beside me as we headed to the longhouse for breakfast which was early as the boat left before noon. Along the way we met Jojo's pal Sammy and his sponsor who was having his final fling. The boy was naked his hands bound behind his back and the Australian was leading him with a cord ending in a large alligator clip clamped to his foreskin. A fresh heavy welting overlay the still raw marks of his earlier testing leaving his skin weeping with sores. Sammy stopped to talk to Jojo and the sponsor jerked hard on the cord. But the boy delayed at the price of his pain. Jojo informed me that Sammy was going to be put to the Ant Test and said we could watch because it only took a few minutes.
We followed them around to a barren area at the back of the hill where the ants' nests were found. A crude seat had been gouged out of the bare earthen slope and a number of stakes driven into the ground. The sponsor tied Sammy half spreadeagled to the seat and after a couple of hard jerks removed the clamp from the swollen skin of Sammy's big cock. Jojo tried to comfort Sammy but his sponsor sent him back. "Ant Test, worst test." Jojo almost shivered. A group of mostly boys gathered around to watch, some of them according to Jojo had been put to the Ant Test themselves. It usually meant a few hundred extra dollars. Sammy grew apprehensive as a few of the large black stinging ants, perhaps attracted by the scent of his sweat and raw weeping wounds began crawling on him. This turned to outright fear as the sponsor stomped on the ground and shoved a stick into the entrance of a nearby nest, unleashing an angry black horde. As they swarmed over Sammy's writhing, helpless form terror pulsed in his eyes and he shrieked. The other boys all stared in fascination as the vicious black creatures made their way all over the slender young body, in every crack and fold of his moist skin, in and around every orifice, clustering on his sorest parts biting, stinging. The sponsor watched with satisfaction, holding on to Sammy's hair so he could keep the stinging ants out of the struggling boy's desperate eyes. Sammy screamed hysterically, his body convulsed, his muscles became superhard and he showed as clearly as in some anatomy diagram the patterns of the sinews around his neck, the rippled ridges of his stomach and the veins standing out on his struggling wrists. It lasted for minutes until two young men appeared on the scene and his sponsor quickly untied him. Several boys helped Sammy pick off the remaining ants and tried to comfort him. Sammy was still trembling when he left with his bonus money.
Jojo looked questioningly at me when I commented on Sammy's courage in agreeing to the Ant Test. "I hope you don't want me to do it." he said trying not to sound pleading. I hadn't thought of it but I countered by suggesting a price. "Never, not for no price." Jojo replied emphatically. I doubled my offer. "Not for even twice that." he sneered. I quadrupled my offer and he even agreed to run back to my hut to get an alligator clip and some cord for me to use on his first. I do not think he was very disappointed when I told him I was only teasing.
When we reached the longhouse Ali was holding court with maybe ten boys. Paul looked striking in his long blue cloak, he wouldn't be wearing anything tight for a while. Jojo wanted to see his circumcision and Paul obliged, peeling back the bandage. The ring of raw flesh was dry and nicely scabbing. Rene was also there still unmarked, Ali was saving him for the last.
At the Bamboo Grove we found the voluptuous boy from the frangipani tree with several guests bidding heavily to give him the light chastisement he was allowed. A burly Frenchman won out and with the lad bent over, his pink anus winking, he reddened the fulsome flesh around it with a cane. And we saw the two "schoolboys" act out a play for a Swede where they caned each other in turn.
We made one last pilgrimage to the mango tree. There were still a few unwhipped boys around, mostly uglier specimens and a few who were crippled and maimed. Old Tom was vigorously thrashing a youth missing an arm and a leg, propped up on crutches. The lad howled for Tom's benefit but laughed when he hobbled away with his cash.
Rene took a running jump and grabbed onto a low branch, swinging back and forth and calling out to Ali to whip him. He playfully kicked out as Ali came over to remove his red loincloth. The bearded man inspected the still swinging sleek, young body. "Ah, what a canvas for my painting with the lash. Some bold red stripes would complement its golden hues." Rene laughed and swung himself higher, first bringing his feet forward and up til they touched the branch, presenting his posterior to us, and then after repeating the gymnastic exercise a few times he hooked his knees over the branch and sung by them arching his back to offer his chest at the end of his swing. Ali appeared pleased and flexed his whip, his flowing robes caught in the morning breeze. Then in time to Rene's swing Ali creased his ass with the lash leaving an even red weal. After a dozen of these Rene swung by his knees to allow Ali to work on his chest. At the end with sweat and blood glistening his on his lithe boyish form he chinned himself a couple of times before jumping down. Ali hugged him affectionately and gave him a generous reward.
Jojo was impatient for my promise of the night before and picked out a not particularly handsome but pale soft skinned whipling; he wanted the marks to show and he was after blood. He had the lad bend over and laboured his buttocks with a cane, smacking them loudly in the same place again and again until a raw pulpy patch formed. The poor boy struggled to control himself. then Jojo switched to the lash drawing a good splattering of blood with his last blows which he smeared on his face, chest and thighs before smiling at me obviously pleased.
Ali, who'd gathered around him his favourites, took off all his clothes. "I always give the boys their turn," he said, "it takes me back to my youth." His favourites some five of them could have a dozen blows each. Rene and Cheng suspended him from a branch that sagged from his weight. And along with Paul and two others they flogged him with the lash. Ali encouraged them to hit harder and teased when one of them missed. When it was over, Jojo who'd watched in fascination, took blood from Ali's matted hairy chest and smeared it on the older man's face saying, "Now you like pledge too."
Dozens of boys came to see us off on the boat and Johnny collected the keys. Jojo stayed close beside me. "I miss you." he said looking up into my eyes. "You come back. Maybe I let you whip extra, and give me needles again for money. I like that." There were tears in Ali's eyes as we climbed aboard the boat. "Ah such things will soon be no more. As you saw it was all very organized, with no one more than temporarily sore, although there was plenty of pain for our pleasure. The boys are good businessmen, they have discovered perhaps the only way people here can better themselves through their own efforts. The boys of Dar Lan will go far."