End of original BOYABUSE Stories – charges also included an unfinished version of Stand By America.

The Rites at Port Dar Lan
Part Three

Jojo spots me first and runs toward me, a smaller boy right behind him. He leaps up, hugs me and I kiss him, happy tears in my eyes, it's been a year since I last loved and tortured him, exalting in his flesh. Jojo stands back, pleased and proud, "I thinked you come today." I look him over, he's certainly taller and his developing muscles give a new firmness to his body. With a big grin he pulls out the waistband of his shorts. I look, reach down and examine his cock which is starting to outgrow the rest of him. The foreskin I hope to sever in a years time is much fuller and still smooth and elastic despite the many times I and probably others had tormented it with pinches, alligator clips and thick needles leaving it raw, swollen and sometimes bleeding.

"My friend Ling." Jojo introduces me to the slim, half Chinese boy at his side whose features and pale smooth skin suggest the fragility of a delicate porcelain statuette. Ling smiles up at me shyly and politely lifts his tunic so I can examine and fondle him if I wish. There's not much meat on his ass but he's well endowed for a boy a couple of years short of puberty. "My special friend." From the way Jojo affectionately pets Ling I know what he means. Intense relationships between boys a few years apart are common in Dar Lan. They involve much more than sex and are regarded as blessed and sacred.

Jojo is full of stories about Dar Lan which like anywhere else has its gossip and grapevines. Several boys I know have made their stakes and gone out into the world. I tell them I'm looking for a boy to cut, explaining to Jojo that I want to experiment first before harvesting his own skin. I want his circumcision to be an extreme test of his endurance. "Many boys ready to cut. We go look by Longhouse after breakfast tomorrow."

I'm anxious to unpack and set up my things, and quite frankly flog a few boys. And unlike before I won't have to wait as the Mango tree and the Bamboo Grove are now open two days before the rites. I pick up my key from Johnny, the Ky Luc Trading Company's representative and run into Chi who welcomes me. The last time I'd seen him he'd just allowed his pledging sponsor to beat him much too savagely, I admired his spunk and would enjoy tormenting his flesh myself. I give him my bags and the key, and ask him to set up my hut and wait. We'll only be few minutes I say.

I need to loosen up after the trip and suggest we take the long path around to my hut, and I mention to Jojo that we can both have some fun with Chi when we arrive. Jojo thinks it will be great sport. "Like two times tourists give me to Chi to spank, he whip really good, so I want much to whip him." Jojo asks if Ling can come along. Seeing no objections possibly some interesting opportunities I agree. Ling is delighted, "Many thank you, Sir." and displaying his undersized ass he adds, "Maybe you like spank at Bamboo Grove, you get ten now. I pat his illpadded bottom, smile, but make no promises. "You like go now" The Bamboo Grove is not far out of our way but I'm in no hurry to flog his vulnerable boy form as I would probably enjoy it much more after I get to know him and his dainty physique better. I tell him some other time.

However we stop at the Bamboo Grove anyway, I know Jojo's eager to exercise his arm and I'm curious about Ling's reactions. There aren't many little boys to whip, certainly not ones I'd bother bruising, and only a couple of routine canings are in progress. Even Jojo seems bored. Then a flamboyantly attired Italian, I guess to be an ageing movie director by his speech and manners, approaches Jojo with an extravagant offer for the right to abuse Ling's hide. Jojo glances at me and tells the Italian that Ling's not available.

"Ah, but I must have him." the man pleads, "So delicately beautiful, such a sweet face to bring delectable suffering to, such fine pale flesh to burnish bright with the whip's quick searing flash .... My little faunchild, allow me please, the privilege, the honour of caressing your tender flesh with my whip, I beg you." He more than doubles his offer. It's ridiculous, he could sponsor the prettiest pledgling for less and indulge in hours of imaginative torture. Ling's all for it, the money that is, but he trusts his buddy Jojo to decide. Suddenly I very much want Ling's hide for myself and I scowl at Jojo. I know he's very tempted, he'd get a good commission out of it too, but he turns down the offer, for which I'll always be grateful.

The Italian's sorely disappointed and turns to leave but stops and kneels in front of Ling, "My little faunchild, I, Benito Laguardia beg you at least to let me watch when you serve yourself here so my eyes may feast on your exquisite agony." For even that privilege Benito's willing to pay enough to flog three ten year olds. I can't blame Jojo for accepting the offer, and taking a sizeable down payment, but I'm not happy about it. They celebrate by calling over a vendor boy and pigging out on barbecued flavour Cheezies. They buy me a Coke.

More boys arrive and a couple of the younger ones, including a good friend and almost clone of Ling, undress to advertise their availability. Jojo decides he wants Ling's frail looking friend and negotiates a price that seems a bit more than right, but then I owe him a favour. Jojo surprises me when he chooses such a heavy cane for such a fragile child. Ling holds his hand to comfort and steady his friend. Jojo doesn't hold back on his strokes and every blow shudders the skinny body. The bruising blows are spaced evenly across the child's and thighs and somewhat moderated on his muscle ready belly. The boy's sobbing by the end, pushed past his limit by the thudding, wracking blows. Ling tries to console him by showing him the money but his friend just curses.

I just remember that Chi whom I'm looking forward to torturing is waiting at my hut when this beautiful proud chested Palestinian lad stops in front of me, tosses back his curly head and gives me a big open mouth smile. I look at him with lust and he lowers his shorts and I see that his pubes have the same smudge of fuzz as his upper lip. I decide I have to have him. His buddy, a stocky Palestinian cutling notices my interest and comes over. Nothing worthwhile is cheap these days and this was no exception. His name's Bene, he'll be pledging next month and I lay all eleven strokes across his front so I can watch the changing expressions on his face as the lash lands and long welts brighten and darken on his chest and belly. He handles the test almost casually, I inspect the welts I've raised, pleased with my workmanship, and when I pay him I get such a nice smile I throw in a tip.

On the way to my hut Ling again asks if I'll spank him "promise for sure?" After his friend's display of fortitude I can't say no. A minute later he asks if I'll sponsor him as a pledge, "Only one year same month." I do not want to encourage him and explain that I want a full measure of sadistic pleasure from any boy I sponsor. I point out that his scrawny arms, chest and legs don't provide much opportunity for serious abuse. Poor Ling bursts into tears. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings and I apologise the best I can. Actually I wouldn't mind tormenting his delicate little body, I can imagine the awful agony I could bring to his soulful eyes, the very thought excites me. But I doubt if the child could survive the type of torture I put Jojo through as a pledge. "Me brave boy." Ling protests still snivelling. "You spank, I show you." I know I'll have to devise some torture to appease him.

Chi's stretched out in the hammock on the porch sipping a 7-Up when we arrive. Inside I notice he's unpacked and tidily arranged my things, oiled the whips and straps thoughtfully provided, and arranged them along with the canes on a bench. He's obviously hoping I'll flog him knowing I tend to be generous. I tell him I intend to and Jojo comes over to consult.

We decide to use a thick leather strap on the more tender parts of Chi's body. Jojo claims the soft insides of his thighs and as Chi lies back on the bed I cup my hand over his just still hairless genitals to protect them as Jojo smashes down four hard slapping blows. Ling still sulking watches from the other side of the room. I'm just getting ready to use a somewhat lighter strap on Chi's thinly fleshed ribcage when Ling demands that I spank him now. I tell him I can't and remind him of his deal with Benito whom I don't want to involve right now. But I have to do something. I could torture his rather pretty and respectable for a ten year old cock, but then I'd like to enjoy it in other ways a few times before it becomes inflamed and sore. Then Jojo has a brilliant idea. "Do feet, make plenty pain but not show." Ling's eyes brighten immediately and I already have the appropriate instrument in my hand, ideal for the soles of Ling's feet. I tell the lucky boy to lie down on his belly and for Jojo to hold his ankles. However Ling looking very pleased with himself is sitting on the edge one leg crossed over a thigh his sole pointing up. "I like look, OK?" he pleads. I am of course delighted by his morbid curiosity and agreed to do it his way, what an interesting child indeed. He will be a fun boy to torture. Jojo snuggles in behind hugging him around the chest and nuzzling his neck. Ling reassured looks at me calmly. Using much of my strength I strap each sole four times to give him a good taste of this most effective torture, but not enough to impair him for long. And besides, given the paucity of fleshy padding elsewhere I might want to beat his soles again before I leave. Ling's moist eyes and proud chin suggest he's satisfied. "Now you sponsor me next year?" he insists. I'm genuinely beginning to like the pesky child but he'll have to put a lot more muscle on his bones to handle the beatings I'd give him. Jojo understands my problem and says he will make Ling eat plenty of rice and exercise with weights. I make no promises. But I remember the delightful time I had lashing Jojo's frontside as he struggled with the weights.

Chi's welts have darkened considerably and Jojo's pleased with the results. I return to my interrupted labours and have Chi stand with his arms folded over his head so I have free access to the soft skin beneath his arms and I lay six smart, obviously painful strokes across his ribs. Jojo finishes the allowable dozen with two vicious strokes across his pubes just missing his cock. They make Chi flinch at the time but he's soon acting as if he feels no discomfort. I serve the boys mango juice and wholewheat crackers but Jojo insists on buying more Cheezies. Chi asks if I want to do a "special trip" to him before he leaves. I tell him not now. "I even do ant test." he mentions.

At last I'm able to turn my attention to Jojo, my beloved whom I love to bathe in pain and shower with affection, lust and money. He's ready for me, stripped, erect, crouched on the bed. "You come." he says as if an order. He's not only huskier but more aggressive than before. I challenge him and we wrestle. I find it takes much more of my strength to bring him down and when I do, his rigid hardon's swaying inches from my eyes. I tease it with my tonguetip as I dig my nails into his nipples and twist them cruelly. Within seconds jism spurts in my face. As soon as I relax my grip he makes a grab for my balls and squeezes them hard as I slap his thigh trying to make him stop. He gets the worst of that and the next one too as I twist an arm to roll him over and spank his bottom with relative impunity. And then with Ling looking on curiously I twist both his arms painfully behind his back and fuck him in the ass which he's thoughtfully lubed for the occasion. Jojo's minor agonies enhance my satisfaction. I forcibly roll him over again going down for a second helping of his sweet boyjuice, my free hand attacking his already tenderized nipples. But Jojo breaks free and quickly behind me he gets my balls in a death grip this time. I gasp with pain. He fucks me, he takes his time and fucks me good. And when he comes his other hand claws across my chest drawing blood which he rubs around on me after. Little Ling, who's been frigging himself the whole time appears quite amused by our display. He giggles himself silly as we suck on his unripe twig. We all shower off together and we find out that he likes being goosed even though I suspect our soapy fingers sting his sphincter.

After telling Jojo and Ling that I have perverse and painful plans for them later I leave them in the hut and go down to the Mango Tree to watch the sport and exercise my arm. It's busier than I expect with a number of boys dangling in different positions from the ancient tree's spreading branches and tied to the newly installed whipping posts and other ingenious contraptions designed to offer up boyflesh in novel ways. The air resounds with busy sounds; the cracks, slaps and thuds of young flesh being assaulted. A few squeals and moans for the benefit of particular abusers add a melodic touch. I notice more black boys, dusky Nuers from the Sudan and wiry Ethiopians, and for the first time pale skinned lads, Kurds and Palestinians no doubt fleeing war and worse in their own countries. I'm told there's now a sprinkling of blond boys from the Soviet Union. Poor boys from the troubled regions of the world are making their way to Port Dar Lan seeking their fortunes. Successful graduates must be spreading the word.

I watch a serious bejewelled Arab in loose traditional robes lay a heavy strap on the buttocks and thighs of a husky black youth suspended by his ankles from an adjustable frame. On completing his allowable three dozen which leave the youth blood splattered and dripping, the Arab seems disappointed that the boy does not cry or complain and has another black boy strung up to work his fantasy on. The first boy effusively thanks him for the generous payment, blowing the Arab a kiss which infuriates him more.

After observing a dozen boys brave their ordeals and collect well earned rewards I select a very pale Kurdish whipling. He has a most amiable, polite manner and modestly turns away when I ask him to strip. His skin is a rich, creamy colour lightly dusted with fine hairs on his forearms and lower legs. A large nose and a few moles like beauty spots give character to his pretty face which he keeps respectfully lowered. His apparent virtues increase my desire to make him suffer. I offer him the going rate but, "White skin extra." and I find I'm paying double. Now I really want to hurt him. I have his wrists strung up to a branch and his ankles tied down around some roots with ropes which I personally tighten to stretch his body taut. I lightly run my hands over his helpless form as he smiles sweetly at me. I decide to confine my two dozen lashes to his frontside so I can watch his pretty face as I work him over. He "ooohs" and "aaahs" as each blow lands but it's all for effect as I don't get a genuine whimper out of him as I blaze a fiery contrasting pattern into his pale skin. I'm both disappointed and delighted with him. In the fuck hut after it takes the bloodied boy less than seven seconds to spurt in my mouth and of course I fuck him. Before leaving I cane a cute but very stoical Vietnamese pledgling completing my workout.

As I reach the steps to my hut I can hear Jojo and Ling inside. I peer through a gap in the nipa wall to see what they're doing and I'm not surprised to find them fucking even though Jojo's juices have been drained twice already. But I am surprised, and intrigued, by the tenderness and gentle passion of their coupling. Jojo's kneeling, slowly rocking back and forth with Ling facing him impaled, his slender legs wrapped around Jojo's hips. They lick, kiss and nibble on each others noses and lips seeming to deliberately savour the sensations. Jojo lightly tweaks the end of Ling's little boner as he gently thrusts into his narrow ass. Their closed eyes flutter occasionally as I watch their graceful, leisurely lovemaking for several minutes before Jojo explodes into vigorous thrusts making Ling squirm and finally burst into giggles. I wait until they're playfully showering off before I enter.

After we snack Jojo asks, "You want to see special show tonight?" He explains that one of the Russian boys who just arrived is going to be tortured and whipped in the Longhouse after dinner. "Him already fifteen, too old to pledge or be whipling, so we let him catch up quick. And nice white skin, good to watch spanked, more good to bleed. And more money, all tourists watch pay, not just one sponsor."

Dinner is turtle soup followed by rice and chicken in a tart fruity sauce, tamarind I believe, but the salad is unfortunately limp. The pledgling waiters are dressed in transparent, light blue fish scale costumes consisting of overlapping plastic circles about four inches across which are attached to their skin with small silver safety pins. I can see that a lot of painstaking work had gone into their attire. Jojo insists on teasing our patient little waiter by tugging on his costume. And when he sees Benito being fondled by a small boy he has Ling do the same to him. I'm content to let Jojo enjoy himself while he can.

My coffee and Grand Marnier have just arrived when the Russian boy, Vasily makes his rounds of the tables. He's wholesomely attractive, very blond with a pouty face and an insolent attitude which I find appealing in view of the cruel ordeal that awaits him. He stops by us opening his loose cloak so we can examine him more closely. His shoulder and chest muscles are just starting to fill out but he's not particularly husky and his soft downy skin looks like an ideal surface for displaying the artistry of the whip. JOJO! He pinches Vasily's drooping cock and laughs. SMACK Vasily's punch knocks Jojo out of his chair. I'm not very sorry for him.

Up to now I wasn't sure if I wanted to pay extra to see the Russian boy tortured, but the situation is becoming interesting, and Jojo's insistent. Anyway I have my own boys to torture later on, including Jojo. While we're waiting we're entertained by eight very young dancers performing with a huge boa constrictor which takes at least three of them to hold as it slithers among them, over and through their dancing bodies and limbs. The music has a heavy beat and they fondle the big snake and their own little ones in time to it. Jojo says the dance is stupid but I find it cute and rather erotic. The boys, who can't be much more than eight are clearly enjoying themselves.

The lights dim and then a spotlight picks out a handsome Malay boy standing arms folded across his chest and head lowered apparently meditating, looking totally relaxed. Slowly he starts unfolding his arms stretching them wide overhead to where his raised face now gazes. At the same time his flaccid cock stiffens, rises jerkily as the rosy glans peeks out from its hood, and it rigidly arches upward. His whole body becomes hard, muscles showing through, and after a minute of intense concentration he ejaculates, pearly gobs spurt towards us. The boy's form softens and he slumps to the ground as we all applaud loudly. Jojo's sure he could do it too if he really tried. Such vanity! Somehow I feel that the next time I torture the child I'll enjoy it more than usual.

When the lights come on again Vasily's standing between two much bigger blue robed cutlings each holding eight, sharp pointed skewers a quarter inch thick fanned in front of them. Jojo looks at me smugly, "Russian boy get it good now." Each cutling stretches one of the boys arms in front of him and slowly and with considerable effort pushes a skewer half way through the lower biceps. Vasily grits his face as the sharp points enter, painfully stretch his skin and emerge through cones of stretched skin an inch away. Jojo grins smugly at me and places my hand on his hardon. Next the muscles of his shoulders are pierced and those of his chest just above and three inches below his tiny pink nipples. His face is contorted with agony and he has to be held as the skewers are worked into and through his flesh. The subsequent pairs through his belly, upper and lower thighs and calves seem to bother him less. He relaxes a moment adjusting to the sixteen cruel skewers piercing his flesh before he makes his rounds of the tables again. He seems to be recovering some of his confidence and poses arms flexed, chest out as we take a closer look at the skewers neatly inserted in him. I lightly touch his lovely boycock and feel it begin to swell. "You wait, you see after." Jojo comments.

Vasily returns to the front and the two cutlings ties his ankles together and his hands behind his back and stretch him out on a narrow bench directly below a high parallel beam. The eight little dancers, laughing and chattering amongst themselves, run out and each ties two long dark cords to a pair of skewers tugging hard to make sure they won't come off. This done they start trying to throw the other end of the cords over the beam. It's not easy, it takes some many tries to toss them over. After much joking and fooling around we get back to serious torture. Each little boy begins pulling on his two cords raising peaks of skewered flesh up from Vasily's body. The boys' efforts are jerky and uncoordinated but gradually, unevenly and with considerable suffering the Russian lad's pale slender form rises from the bench. It takes a while for them to get him more or less level about three feet above the ground and tie the cords so they won't slip.

One of his tiny tormentors climbs right up on Vasily adding maybe fifty percent to the weight tugging on his skewered flesh. He even stands up and grabbing the cords he gets the Russian swinging side to side. The others help by pushing and the chief tormentor enjoys the swing, grinning at us. Then he plops himself down on the boy's belly and roughly jacks the boy's cock. The others parade around groping each other and gleefully pinching and pummelling the suspended boy. One hangs onto his small ball sac sending the slender blond out of control, writhing, making his skewered flesh stretch farther than ever, he screams. For the first time there's significant bleeding around the skewers. It's a magnificent display and the audience gives them a standing ovation. The cutlings decide he's had enough for the time being, lower, untie and deskewer him, sponging off the blood and sweat after. He's exhausted and rests.

The waiters bring around large bowls of oranges, mangos and bananas and trays with small chunks of durien on toothpicks. Six handsome lads all just on the threshold of puberty mingle among us before pairing off to kiss, suck and fuck for our visual entertainment. I tell Jojo and Ling they can do better and tell them how I spied. The pair nearest us does however give a fine performance and donations are expected. Meanwhile the eight little boys all sporting hardons circulate among the tourists offering blowjobs and allowing minor liberties with their own diminutive bodies.

Benito at the next table gets one of the boys to bend over and starts shoving small, peeled bananas up his tiny asshole. After a while he can't keep them all in and shits before being reloaded. It must be fun or profitable for soon, when another huge bunch is brought in all the little boys are getting stuffed with bananas. It's a while before the mess is cleaned up.

Vasily's ready to continue and stands on the bench as the cutlings tie his wrists to the beam and his ankles down to a stake in the ground. He's regained much of his composure and he's stopped bleeding but the flesh around his punctures is bruised and swollen. Minor bruises and a pecker pink from pinching decorate his front but his backside is completely unblemished although I don't expect that to last long. An assortment of whips and straps are set out for the whims of the guests.

The instruments are fairly light so everyone can have a good turn without doing too much damage. Jojo sulks when he finds out only guests are allowed turns.

For others and those who can't wait, the eight little dancing boys let it be known that their hides are available on the same conditions but at much higher prices than at the Bamboo Grove. Because I'm a nice guy I let Jojo have his pick. He chooses a cute dark hill tribe child and then to my surprise he offers him to Ling who's delighted to have a boy of his own to flog. How sweet of Jojo! Ling takes a light bamboo slat cane and smacks the grinning, uncomplaining boy's bum eight times raising welts he invites me to feel.

Vasily gets well worked over, his front overlaid with an intricate pattern of whip welts and the extensive strappings have opened cuts on buttocks and thighs. When we're finished he's dowsed with buckets of seawater which sears his wounds making him scream in agony. He's had more than enough and turns down huge offers for sex. But the six handsome just prepubescent lads who'd entertained us earlier with their lovemaking are eagerly available. Jojo wants to hang around but I'm impatient to carry out my sadistic designs on his sweet body. I have to twist his arm hard to get him to come. Ling who's part of my perverse plans comes with us.

I don't want to mark up the boys' bodies until after the Blood Pledge Ceremony tomorrow so back at the hut I suggest a little peckerpain, cock torture for the evening fun fare. Ling doesn't quite know what he's letting himself in for, but with Jojo willing I negotiate a very good price for the "special trip".

I put on an inane disco cassette, bring out my box of alligator clips and fluff up three big pillows for Ling's comfort as he lies back across the bed. I stroke him semi-hard before I retract his dainty foreskin and attach a clip to the sensitive inside surface. Ling gasps and clutches Jojo's arm. Seven more, their tips almost touching complete a jingly necklace of intense pain around his tiny glans. His face is a boyish delight of stoical suffering, I feel well rewarded for my efforts. I can't resist the temptation and briefly clamp a larger one on the soft rosy knob which elicits a squeal but he doesn't struggle or cry. I let him adjust to the clips for a minute and then make him run on the spot and jump, jangling the clips so his movements are regulating his own pain. Then I take him on my lap, hug him closely to me looking into his eyes, I shake his soft tormented penis and tug on the clips, only for a few seconds but enough to take him up another step. Jojo, proud of his lover, grins at me.

Alligator clips have become one of my favourite instruments. Flogging has its traditional appeal because it was used as punishment, and therefore a test of manly sorts. But nowadays with close-ups in movies and TV, people are learning to appreciate the more intimate aspects of pleasure in pain. And these allow testing of subtler kinds. Clips are silent devices that do not compete with the sounds of reactions, clips can be finely graduated and they make a sharp fiery pain, like straight Tabasco on the tongue. They are rated 8.2 on the Schneikel Scale of Pain to Damage Ratios.

I let Ling remove the clips himself so he has a better understanding of them. He'll have a real warm afterglow for a while. When he's finishes examining the damage I suggest he do the same to Jojo, his lover, I tell him. I give them a dozen clips and an extra one somewhat bigger. Jojo strips and makes himself comfortable on the bed his foreskin slipping back as his rod becomes rigid. I knew he'd like this torture. Ling clamps the first one on and looks up at Jojo who's expressionless. Ling proves to be a fast learner and when he's finished his not very even necklace I suggest he give Jojo's still rigid rod a hand job, clips and all. He begins very gingerly. I tell him harder so the clips will dig into his lover's peckerflesh. We may just be getting the first sign of bleeding when jism spurts, amazing little Ling. He removes the clips and I join him in a damage inspection as Jojo tries to look bored.

After showering, and more to eat of course, we settled into an evening of soft rock music and sexual entertainment. I don't think I've ever seen boys suck on each other so gently before each making little thrusts of his own. I very gently, just for the effect, spank their bums with a spoon. I fuck Ling first taking my time to lube, probe and stretch his anus with one and then two fingers reaching in and exploring his warm moist intestine. Jojo doesn't look pleased and I assume he feels protective or maybe jealous. Ling's' narrow ass swallows me nicely and does its share seemingly unaffected by my rough final flurry.

I seek to taste a few spasms from Jojo's tormented cock all the prettier for its speckled inflammation but he refuses. I can fuck him if I like, and I do at considerable lengths although he's not as responsive as usual. When I finish he grins at me pointing to where he'd just jacked off.

I must have slept well for I awake early feeling refreshed and full of energy, and also compassion, as I allow the boys to sleep in. I jog down to the Mango Tree and give some straightforward canings to a couple of early rising lads before taking a brief swim down at the beach. The boys are still asleep when I return but Jojo's cock quickly responds to my lips. I notice it has largely recovered from last night's ordeals, but I'll wait at least another day before tormenting it again. I awake Ling in a similar fashion and note that his member's a bit more inflamed.

After breakfast we go to inspect candidates for the blade behind the Longhouse. About a dozen fifteen year olds are hanging around. I'm attracted to a cute Palestinian with a fuzzy upper lip and sideburns but his small cock and tight foreskin won't allow me much latitude for painful experimentation. He looks at me pleadingly, his stubby little prick bobbing up and down. I tell him that if he doesn't find a sponsor I'll be glad to flog him at the Mango Tree later.

Then I notice a big babyfaced boy, one of the blackest I've seen in Dar Lan. He stands aloof wrapped in a colourful tribal blanket and smiles sweetly when sees my interest. He speaks no English but his interpreter tells me his name if Raj. I ask to see what he has to sacrifice to my pleasure. He opens his cloak I am astounded, his chest and belly are intricately scarified with swirling lines of dots of raised scar tissue. He is obviously no stranger to pain.

His long black cock has a full generous hood which displays a lustrous bluish sheen with certain light angles. At my merest touch it swells to over six inches long. I could not have wished for a finer subject to practice on. I explain my plans, offer a bonus and we strike a deal. Jojo seems pleased with my choice and says he'll help me. However, deciding to be mean to him for a change, I tell him he won't even be allowed to watch. I want the techniques I use in his own cutting next year to be a surprise. Raj comes with us back to my hut where I taste his juices and enjoy his ass.

The Longhouse can barely accommodate all those wanting to see the spectacular Blood Pledge Ceremony. Sixteen boys in two shifts are to bleed under the ceremonial cutting whips. Some of the whip wielders will have to do double shifts although there's more than enough pledglings to soften them up. Raj lounges nonchalantly as I, with Jojo's and Ling's eager assistance, hook the tassel ornaments into his flesh.

Afterwards I meet Benito who says it's the most impressive performance he's ever seen. His little pledgling, a curly headed impish boy named Mohammed, revels in all the blood and proudly bears his first testing at the Mango Tree. I invite them back to my hut so he can observe Ling's whipping as agreed to earlier. We can have more fun with the child's flesh in the privacy of a hut.

I prepare some refreshments while Benito plays with Ling on his lap, probing and fondling his skinny but graceful form. He notices the boy's still tender pink penis. Jojo explains in detail how it was tortured with alligator clips and shows him his own abused organ. Benito's fascinated and experiments with a clip on his own nipple, "Ah, I never realized the grievous potential of these innocent looking devices before, I must share this discovery with my dear little Mohammed.... Come here my heroic little pledgling." Benito puts a couple of clips on Mohammed's nipples, "And you, my lovely faunchild, perhaps at some future date you might permit old Benito here to embellish your darling nipples and sweet penis with these delightful devices." Ling plays with his tiny tits and smiles coyly.

I announce it's time for the main event, their official monthly allotments, and indeed, despite the fun I've had already, both boys have basically unmarked hides. As lovers I think the two of them should suffer together simply for the aesthetic effect. I won't argue that it will strengthen their bonds.

I clear the table, move it to the middle of the room and cover it with a soft blue blanket to make a pedestal for the performance. I put on some classical music and explain to the boys how I want them to fuck - just as I'd observed them before. Jojo gets a hardon almost immediately and kneels on the table. Ling slathers his lover's rod generously and lowers his ass down on the eager cock, his legs scissoring his special friend's hips. They begin fucking slowly, gently rocking as they affectionately kiss and Jojo strokes Ling's stiff member. As I watch their tongues explore noses and lips I explain they are to keep their eyes closed.

Taking two whips, a heavier one for Jojo's two dozen lashes, I circle around the copulating couple. Benito grasps my plan, signals his delight excitedly and moves his chair closer. I wait until their two little tongues are sparring playfully before unleashing two slashing strokes across Ling's tiny bum not much more than an inch above Jojo's thrusting cock. Half a minute later I pound four blows into Jojo's shoulders and then another four into the parts of his thighs I can reach almost catching Ling's bobbing buttocks. I wait until Ling's sucking on Jojo's probing tongue before I lay two quick hard blows across his scissoring legs making him squeeze and raise them. This creates an opening and I get in four sharp blows across Jojo's ass which speed him up and I know he's coming when he practically shakes Ling up and down on his ramming rod. "Bravo! bravo!" Benito's ecstatic. I work in another four strokes across the sides of his ribcage opening a small cut as Jojo keeps on thrusting after his climax. Benito, using his finger, tastes the cum oozing out of Ling's asshole and beams appreciatively. I catch Ling's legs again with two excellent stinging strokes and eyes still closed he tells me I have only four strokes left. I wait before giving Jojo another four across his shoulders nicking Ling's arm as I do. Jojo's thrusting vigorously and I can see Ling's sphincter working to help. A whip in each hand I prepare for the finale as the music reaches its climax. With all my strength I alternate the remaining strokes across their buttocks and I'm delighted as Jojo spurts a second time as I finish. Both boys are nicely marked after.

Benito's enraptured, gesticulating profusely he claims that he's never seen such a beautiful whipping before. "Ah the tenderness and the cruelty, the love and pain so magnificently intertwined, a bit more blood perhaps but my only real regret is that I could not immortalize the scene on film. I understand why cameras are not allowed in Dar Lan, but contemplate for a moment the great loss to mankind. Imagine being able to revisit the exquisite scene we've just witnessed or being able to preserve the courage, pomp and gore of the Blood Pledge Ceremony for posterity. And turning to Ling "My little faunchild, you were magnificent, wear your welts proudly. I only pray that some day you will grant me the privilege of etching another set into your noble flesh." He's lavish with his thanks as well as his money and hints he may have a treat for us.

The boys whistle up an ambulant vendor boy, they're starving for some good old junk food which I've failed to provide. They feel that they deserve a treat after the hard work they've done and the extra money Ling has. A black youngster about twelve with a reddish tinge to his hair soon arrives with a tray and small pack of goodies. I see Jojo talking with the cheerful, full lipped vendor who has a brilliant white toothed smile. After he says he wants to "special trip" the boy - alone, so Ling and I go for a stroll.

We walk down to the spit where the river enters the sea and along the beach to the rocks where the boys practise gymnastics and martial arts. Ling talks mostly about Jojo whom he obviously adores and how Jojo likes me and wants me to sponsor him as a pledge. In a thicket of thorn trees back of the beach we lightly fondle each other with our fingertips as I kneel in front of him, I like his sense of play. Then I rub his sore welts to revive the pain as he kisses me. I will sponsor him despite his daintiness but he's not to know yet. We make our way back lingering along the Garden Path and I treat him to his pick at the Bamboo Grove before we drop by Benito's hut although I suspect the faunchild may be tiring of the Italian.

Two little boys looking almost like twins and similarly attired greet us on the porch. Their latest fashion shirts and snug designer jeans attractively set off their small muscular bodies. They look just like boys one might find on the streets of Paris or Singapore. The door opens, Benito welcomes us warmly and we enter. His pledgling, Mohammed is tied up to the lattice wall that's conveniently provided in all the huts and Benito is just completing his embellishment of the child's nipples and genitals with alligator clips which are closely spaced all down the shaft and over the compact scrotum so that their total weight is a significant pull. The boy, already lightly but brilliantly welted from his initiation at the Mango Tree, quite a pretty effect I might add, is in considerable agony but bravely uncomplaining. Benito wipes away Mohammed's tears and kisses him affectionately. "My darling pledgling you must remember to thanks our visitors for inspiring your latest torment." he kisses the boy again and I can see that Benito also has tears in his eyes. "Your heroic anguish, my darling pledgling, makes my heart soar and renews the lust in my ancient loins." I'm sure Mohammed doesn't understand a word of what Benito says.

The two well dressed youngsters, I judge to be about nine serve us drinks, wine for the adults and orange for the others. Ling helps the helpless Mohammed drink his. Benito shows me a very light twin thonged stinging whip which I doubt could do much damage to a baby's bottom. He kisses Mohammed tenderly, coos in his ear before lashing horizontally across his pledgling's beclipped genitals. While the thongs only perceptibly mark the skin they shake and jerk the cladding of clips causing the pledgling extreme pain as he writhes and struggles to control himself. I compliment Benito on his ingenuity and he lets me try a few strokes which I enjoy immensely and get some blood spotting.

Ling is invited to have a turn and strikes him a few times but without enthusiasm. Mohammed is looking very sorry for himself and Benito unties him from the trellis but wants his pledge to limber up, to dance before the clips are removed. Benito puts on some lively middle eastern music but Mohammed moves only slowly and awkwardly. Benito hugs and kisses the child telling him what a good pledge he's been but the boy's dancing doesn't improve. Then Ling comes over and dances wildly to the music in front of him and talking him up he takes his hands and leads the reluctant pledgling in what becomes a jerky, clip jangling dance that ends in a frenzy of jumps and twists. Benito is again ecstatic, "My magnificent faunchild, cup bearer of inspiration, making my little pledgling perform with such passion...." The little pledgling is exhausted from his ordeal and exertion, a pleading expression on his delicate face. We all gather around as Benito removes the clips admiring the multitude of tiny red nicks they've left behind. It's cuddles, kisses and tears as Benito expresses his profuse gratitude to Mohammed.

Jojo saunters in the open door and I ask him if he had a good time with the vendor lad. He smiles smugly. Ling tugs at him, "You miss good show, maybe hundred clips, you see." Mohammed, in much better spirits now, is delighted to show Jojo the damage he's suffered. I'm pleased to see that Ling is becoming a serious student of torture.

One of the little well dressed boys comes and sits on my knee and soon makes it known he wants to play. I feel his spongy diminutive genitals through layers of cloth, an interesting novelty in Dar Lan, and soon I'm helping him extricate himself from his tightly fitting attire and my jaded lust is aroused when finally he's naked, his springy little hardon poking out in front. While I'm enjoying minor liberties with boy's firm, wiry little body Benito gives the other boy the light twin thonged stinger explaining that three of its strokes are rated as equal to one of the standard little boys' instruments. My boy arches back over my knee his little hardon pointing straight up as the other whips it with the stinger. Tiny, thin welts start to glow especially where the elastic give of the foreskin offers little protection. The boy shifts, spreading his legs and now just before my eyes I see the tiny balls get their share of lashes as he clenches my arm. He ends up prettily pinkened from his anus to his navel. The pain seems to dissipate quickly, and after the boys share an orange drink it's my boy's turn to flail the other boy's rod as he props himself on Benito's lap. We both agree it's a worthwhile form of torture that could become popular among the boys.

The two little boys meticulously put their clothes back on, comb their hair in a mirror and leave. Jojo who's horny and hard takes off after the one who'd been whipped on my knee. I extend my sincere thanks to Benito, leave him to have fun with his pledgling and jog the long way around to watch a few floggings by torchlight at the Mango Tree. After studying a particularly blood blest beating, and lashing a lad bloody myself, I ponder perverse paths to pain for Raj whose prepuce I claim tomorrow in the severest ordeal I can devise.

Contemplating the relative merits, the potential for excruciating pain of cutting, crushing, stretching and tearing sensitive adolescent foreskin I stop to urinate by the side of the path. Absentmindedly I pulled up my zipper without properly tucking myself in. AHIEEE! The shock of the pain is soon mitigated by the realization of how delectable it might be as torture. I couldn't zipper off Raj's generous membrane but I could duplicate the sensation and slowly extend it over larger areas.

Stopping at the Longhouse I run into Raj. He gratefully accepts my offer to eat, a small snack of juice and beancakes and we communicate with gestures and sounds. He is an amiable lad, sincere and honest in the face and bizarrely handsome with the elaborate tribal scarifications covering much of his lean boyish body. After this interpreter friend, Ebo joins us I learn that in his own country when boys are circumcised, a lengthy and radical operation where some of the underlying flesh is scraped away, they must stand motionless holding a spear in their right hand the butt resting on a foot. If the boy should cry out or flinch, or the spear tip wave it would bring great shame not only on himself but also his family and clan.

I am getting to like Raj on a more personal level and we go for a stroll in the cool night air. At a widening in a path through some dense jungle so black we have to feel our way, we stop. He is completely invisible. I run my hands over his shoulders and back and around his chest feeling the even bumps of scar tissue that form graceful scrollwork on his slender torso. He holds my shoulders, nibbles on my chest finding my nipples and biting, returning the pain from tasselled hooks I inserted in him earlier. Our lips meet and then I kneel so mine can love the skin I'll harvest tomorrow. But before I'm ready he thrusts his rod deep into my mouth and fucks it violently almost choking me as he comes, my head scrunched against his groin. I'm surprised by his strength. After a few words I do not understand he pulls me to the ground caressing me briefly before he forcefully turns me over and fucks me hard. A part of me is delighted although this is not what I'd planned. His strength, vigour and stamina are impressive and I am equally surprised by his gentleness and tender affection after as we embrace, I wish I could have seen his expressions. He guides me back to the trail and leaves me at my hut.

Jojo and Ling are still awake listening to an old Jimi Hendrix tape, half empty Pepsis beside the bed. I examine the dark weals I sketched on Ling's pale delicate flesh earlier, this is part of my pleasure especially with such a child like creature. Looking up at me Ling comments, "You do good job". I kiss his sweet face and tell him in all honesty that it was my pleasure and that I dearly love to whip and torture willing young boys. "You same Jojo." he informs me, "He good job my friend."

The boys' foreskins and nipples though still sore have largely recovered from their abuse the day before and their tiny teats at least are ready for more torment. The slight swelling and rawness makes them pinker, plumper and prettier than ever. Jojo ever curious looks at me inquisitively as I lightly tweak them. "What you do?" Jojo asks, "Special trip?" I simply smile and they exchange glances. "OK" Ling volunteers bravely. I bring out four large pointed hooks with eyes similar to the ones we'd used for Raj's decorations earlier and hand each of them two. Jojo understands immediately and grins knowingly at me and then at his special friend's, swollen dusky cones. Ling looks at me uncertainly as Jojo sucks on his tiny tit before starting to push the hook's point in a bit below the peak.

I can sense Ling's reaction as the point enters and stretches the nerve rich flesh around it. Jojo leans forward and kisses Ling affectionately on the lips as he slowly works the point in more. Ling tries to respond offering his tongue to Jojo's lips and teeth and at a signal from Jojo he begins stroking his lover's rigid rod. As the point exits just above the tip Ling's chest flesh is stretched out in a point over an inch long.

They rest a minute taking sips on their Pepsis before Jojo sucks Ling hard and offers him his left nipple and coaches him as he inserts a hook. Jojo frigs him rapidly. I sit back to enjoy the scene as Ling now pulling instead of pushing works the hook through. The child's eyes become wide with wonder as the bright shiny tip emerges from the very centre of the dark stretched cone. After a few seconds of kissing and mutual fondling Jojo pierces his little lover's other nipple as he's fondled and at his turn Ling insists on doing it all by himself although it takes a couple of tries to succeed. I can see by the intensity of his concentration and the stiffness of his little prick that he's beginning to enjoy his work. How promising! There's more honesty in a stiff prick than words.

I tie each boys' hooks together creating 'reins'. I take the two sets of reins, jerk on them lightly and lead the boys around the hut making them stand tiptoe and then crawl like puppets on strings. Tiring of this fun after a while I give them each others reins and suggest they play 'horsey' but they don't seem enthusiastic, perhaps never having seen horses. I busy myself rounding the blades on a small pair of clipping pliers I use for my toenails as they sit quietly on the bed.

A few minutes later I notice Jojo making more than gentle tugs on Ling's reins every couple of seconds. Ling tries to ignore them but as they get progressively harder he realizes he's being tested. Psyching himself up for what he knows will increase his own suffering he tugs sharply on Jojo's reins, again and again using much of his strength. Jojo hesitates only momentarily before responding in kind. I cannot allow this delicious anguish to go on too long and when Ling is being hoisted off the floor with most of his weight supported by the hooks through his tenderized tits I call a halt. They'll both be very very sore for days.

I gratefully thank them for their magnificent performance and serve them refreshments, fruit juice and granola, but Jojo won't look at them and goes out to the porch to whistle up a vendor boy. He takes another Pepsi and after a charming little Kymer boy comes by he pigs out on Cheezies and barbecued flavour chips sharing them with Ling. I put on some 'romantic' music and we relax on the bed. My libido has been honed to a keen edge by the recent displays of boy grit and passion and my hands begin gently exploring their abused bodies. "You like fuck me?" Jojo asks in an unusually demanding voice. I agree of course and Jojo tells me to lie down on my back. I'm slightly perplexed but when he sits astride me and lowers his snug ass down on my eager shaft I feel reassured. "You like play horsey?" His question isn't clear until Ling brings over one of the sets of hooks with the reins still attached and the two boys in boisterous spirits jab and yank the hooks through my own nipples. Then Jojo grabbing the reins bounces up and down on me jerking them in time and yelling, "Yipee, yipee" waiving a hat above him like some rodeo cowboy. The combination is too much and it's not long before I explode in my beloved's jiggling bottom.

Jojo insists I suck him off immediately after as Ling roughly plays with my balls and cock. When Jojo's finished thrusting in my mouth and I taste his sweet distillate, Ling works himself down on my re-aroused rod, grabs the reins and has his turn as cowboy yanking as hard as he can. Both agree it's great fun and I have no trouble admitting I enjoy it too, although the pleasure is not all mine. We shower off together, they're still in a playful mood, and in bed for the night Jojo leisurely fucks his little lover while I suck the immature child silly several times before sleeping.

In the morning we have a light breakfast and I take the boys to the Bamboo Grove where I offer them both their pick of the youngsters' hides to flog. Jojo looks over the clusters of naked little boys and their older buddies disdainfully, but Ling finds a scrawny little dark kid about seven he says he'd like to try. "I think I starting like to whip now." he says trying to sound adult. He chooses one of the small whips and has the kid stand with his folding arms protecting his face. Ling lands two strokes across the puny shoulders and closely checks the results. He seems pleased and lays the remaining five strokes across the child's bum or as close as he can. The whip really hurts and the kid is moist eyed subdued but runs off cheerfully when paid. Jojo says there's nothing "interesting" and we start to leave.

A large crowd, about a dozen, guests and boys arrive talking excitedly. I see Vasily among them and beside him a smaller blond boy. More and more people arrive and I soon catch on to what is happening, the small blond boy's hide is being auctioned. The crowd builds up to a hundred with more watching from between the clumps of bamboo up the hill. "I want that boy." Jojo demands, "You said I could have my pick."

The smaller boy, not as pretty but more fleshed out than Vasily, was over twelve, but as he had not yet pledged he could not be flogged at the Mango Tree, or with the heavier instruments. The Council of Cutlings who run the rites and make the rules compromised by allowing two dozen strokes to help prepare him for his pledging. The bejewelled Arab I seen before opens the bidding at a thousand dollars. Later I hear him bid three.

I can't be sure of the final price but an immaculately attired black African, perhaps one of the continent's new capitalists is the successful bidder. The crowd moves aside creating an open area in the middle of the Bamboo Grove. The boy, Vasily's brother Ilya moves into the open area, a bit self conscious of his nakedness at first, but encouraged by the growing crowd he stands naturally hands by his side and tries to appear relaxed.

The African follows a minute later accompanied by a cutling in blue holding specimens of the relatively light instruments of torture allowed; whips and canes. Ilya stands in front of him. The African tells him to turn around and bend over. Ilya slowly and haughtily obeys as the crowd titillated by the apparent contest murmurs. The boy seems very confident. The African smiles, obviously pleased that the youngster seems worthy of his expensive ministrations.

There's a limit to the pain energy a light cane can deliver and there are limits to what a twelve year old bottom can absorb without becoming badly scarred or damaged. And there are limits to the pain any persons mind regardless of age or race can consciously absorb. The amazingly quick and athletic African extracts the last ounce of potential from the canes, breaking one, as he slams twelve blows into the taut flesh of the Russian lad's buttocks unsteadying him repeatedly, bloodying the boy and making him struggle to maintain control of himself. More blows on the boy's bum that's already becoming numb anyway might lead to serious contusions.

Ilya gradually straightens, his face white and blank. Vasily calls to him, what I don't know, but Ilya becomes more alert, stretches, feels his pulpy buttocks experimentally and appears to relax. The African selects a whip and tells the boy to stand facing him, his arms raised. Ilya, less confident now, obeys hugging his own shoulders but staring the black man in the eye. The African studies him briefly and speaks, "I would love to break your will and humble you, but, I suspect you have a black heart." Ilya eyes remain fixed on his tormentor as the whip flashes out and a second or so later we see a bright red weal form as if on developing paper. The lashing is loud as the leather lands again and again on the blond lad's narrow rib cage, so thinly fleshed over the bones beneath. The Russian's white chest ablaze with the bold strokes of the lash is visually impressive, much more so than on darker boys, and he makes it through with his dignity if not his attitude intact.

The African congratulates the boy and shakes his hand just before he collapses. Ilya is propped up, he seems OK. The African leans over, "I understand, my brave little white boy." I look around, I've never seen half as many people come to watch a flogging before.

I'm anxious for my appointment with Raj and my latest experiment in the technology of pain. I give Jojo and Ling some spending money to entertain themselves, I hear they now have video games in the village, and I make them both promise to stay away from Raj's cutting. Jojo wants to know why and I tell him so that his own cutting would be a bigger surprise. "You mean like where kids get presents?" I ignore the last comment and make him promise anyway.

Raj is waiting in the Longhouse with half a dozen buddies including Ebo, his interpreter who tells me he once sang in a choir. When Benito, whom I've invited, shows up a few minutes later with Mohammed, I suggest we leave unobtrusively so as not to attract attention. I want to torture a boy not entertain an audience. However I'm not surprised when about a dozen curious chattering boys show up when we reassemble on the path leading up stream to the remote location I've chosen. Then I see Chi, Tan and Jean and several other boys I've had the fun of flogging. Even little Lucky is there. Chi whose tenderest parts I'd strapped just two days ago comes up giving me a friendly smack on the back, and beams, "I think you do good time job, I bet real good time job you cut black Raj. We all like see thing you do." They make me feel like a minor celebrity.

On the way several boys insist we stop at the Grotto and watch a trembling but stoical Malay lad have his prepuce laboriously sawed off with the old Illogi stone knife. Raj observes dispassionately as the other boys stare and exchange hushed comments. Benito is ecstatic, "Such courage, such poignancy, such drama, the essence of existence laid bare. And all in one short sequence." When we moved on another ten boys who'd been watching tag along.

When we reach the remote place I've selected, an open sandy spot beside a deep channel out in the sand bars that is screened by bottom land scrub, there must be almost a hundred boys there. Curious boys, boys fascinated by the mystique of blade, skin, pain, and manhood, true affectionados, may of whom will humbly masturbate awed by the spectacle of peckerflesh being cut or torn. Worshipful religious boys. I have Raj's buddies fill bottles with water to rinse off the blood I expect.

Raj removes his improvised but regal tribal attire and stands facing the sun. A buddy hands him a spear and he holds it in his right hand the butt end resting on his foot below. The fingers of his other hand just barely touch those of Ebo beside him. I kneel in front of him holding my instrument of torture as he looks on in calm anticipation. I stroke his big boycock first stretching out the foreskin gently and then running a finger around the inside of the silky skin, knowing it. I begin stretching out sections of the rim. Taking the cutting pliers I've carefully dulled I snip a quarter inch into the edge of his foreskin not cutting but crushing, squishing the sensitive membrane. Then as close as I can get to the first I make a second mashing snip and I can see it's going to be a bloody affair. Raj stares off into the distance as if in another world. The boys, crowding closer than is comfortable, watch in silence many fondling themselves beneath their clothes. Methodically I continue the close spaced snips until Raj has a frill of loose mangled skin all the way around the rim of his prepuce. When the blood is rinsed off it makes a rather pretty embellishment to his already handsome cock. Subtle reactions tell me that Raj is not as unaffected by his ordeal as he pretends to be. I announce a short intermission, congratulate Raj on his performance and lean over kissing his sweaty brow. I pause for a Pepsi to refresh myself as the sun is very hot. The crowd of boys seem to welcome the break as they relax and exchange hushed comments. A few start fooling around, groping each other and laughing and giggling to reduce the tension. Little hardons are protruding everywhere and two boys about ten grab each others cocks and digging in their nails have a brief tug -o-war.

Benito, more than usually effusive, makes a point of praising my "imaginative approach to the problem". His little pledgling Mohammed stands demurely at his side looking somewhat subdued. Benito regards him proudly, "Ah yes, my magnificent pledgling. Why don't you show my friend the lovely decorations I've made on your exquisite form." The lad doesn't understand so Benito pulls off his pledgling's T-shirt. His chest and upper arms display a complex pattern of rows of tiny bruises and nicks spiralling out from his hugely swollen but unbroken nipples. No doubt Benito was inspired by Raj's scarification. I can't figure out how the marks were made but I'm sure they won't leave scars. A number of the boys also seem impressed by Benito's artistry which reassures his little pledgling who proceeds to lower his shorts. His entire genitals are moderately inflamed from their testing with the clips and below the inside of his thighs and the backs have angry looking but neatly spaced and parallel welts from a cane. "I'm saving his charming little bottom and soft belly for later." Benito remarks smugly. I tell Mohammed what a fine brave lad he is and he smiles back weakly. Raj who has refused any refreshments is standing sweltering in the sun so I return to my task.

Silence falls as I take pliers and begin a second circle of mashing snips to double the width of the frill. It is difficult to get them as evenly spaced because of all the mangled skin in the way, however with frequent rinsing I manage to complete the second circle in about ten minutes although I'm sure it seems longer to Raj. His breathing has become uneven and he's sweating less. I know he's struggling to maintain control when I see the spearpoint wavering slightly. I stretch out the minced skin into a wide, lace like collar surrounding his paler, unblemished glans. It reminds me of some exotic flower.

Quickly, with some sharp clippers I trim the mangled collar cleanly off his shaft. A buddy rinses off the severed flesh and it's passed around amongst the boys who examine it excitedly and chatter loudly. Raj, his trial over at last practically collapses into the arms of his buddies who lead him into the river to bathe. I'm glad to see him swim a few strokes before he emerges. I hug him briefly, tears in my eyes, before he leaves supported by his buddies.

I'm satisfied with my technique which I believe exploits the pain potential of practically every cell in question. Would Jojo be able to handle the same? I would want him to but then I would also want to see my beloved suffer and convulse in agony. Then I notice Jojo who must have been hiding in the crowd sneak away. Benito and I, and his prettily abused pledgling stroll back to the Longhouse for a late lunch. I will deal with Jojo later.

We're about to enter when a small boy runs up calling me by name. It's little Lucky, the frightened but curious six year old I met a year ago. "I go Bamboo Grove now. I become seven today, so now first time. You come? I like nice man spank me." I'm flattered, and he is a little darling and I imagine fun too. I tell him later and invite him to join us for lunch. Benito approves of the idea and seems to be sizing up the child. Over lunch we agree to share Lucky's initiation at the Grove and he runs off ahead of us leaping and bounding to find one of his buddies.

It's extremely hot and there are few guests or boys around. We see one boy who's lost both his arms get whipped by a loud Australian but that's about it. Lucky comes running up out of breath and dripping. "You wait, one minute." Danny Boy who I'd almost forgotten to flog a year ago comes and greets me smiling. "Lucky want you for first time, he say you do nice good job." Danny's body is covered with welts, he's pledging he tells us, and he and Mohammed who know each other have a show and tell session with their bruises. Lucky is impatient and denies me the pleasure of undressing him. I call for the lash and I'm about to stripe his boney backside when he pleads that I wait. He says he'll be right back and dashes off again. Meanwhile Danny Boy and Mohammed are arguing over who has the most and best bruises and welts and they ask me to settle the dispute. They display their small abused naked forms pointing to various contusions and lacerations describing how they were made. There's no question that Danny Boy's compact ass and slender thighs have had more attention and were certainly well bloodied by a cane, and the wider welts from a strap on the belly and the inside of the thighs make a bold purpling pattern but his genitals and nipples appear untouched. "But he squeeze me hard." That may be but my digital examination of his beans finds no unusual swelling or sensitivity and the rest of his markings are relatively minor although the puncture marks where his puny chest and arm muscles were skewered are interesting.

Mohammed, since I last noticed has had his better fleshed back and shoulders well worked over with a whip leaving long even spaced weals, a magnificent job and Benito beams proudly at me. "Mr. Benito hang me by thumbs, hurt much, see?" Mohammed holds his hands towards me, "And he do feet too but no can see." His cock has had another session with the sharp toothed alligator clips leaving it brightly inflamed, speckled with nicks and the prepuce swollen thick. It's a difficult decision and after saying it appears to be a tie I give a slight edge to Danny Boy but suggest he allow Benito a special trip with his clips sometime.

Lucky, dripping and exhausted stumbles back, "They come." he gasps between pants. Four of his young friends who he's invited to watch his initiation arrive soon after. I'd planned a relatively mild testing but now I don't want to disappoint him or his friends. I have him stand facing me arms folded over his head. He's still breathing heavily from all his running around and glistening with sweat and trembling with anticipation. I have his friends sit in front where they'll get a good view. With all the force I can put behind the light lash I strike him high on the chest, I'm sure he'll want the welts where he can easily show them off. Lucky puts on a show of bravado, he seems more relaxed. I do my best and by the fourth blow I'm lucky enough to add a bit of tint to the slippery sweat of his upper ribs. His friends signal their approval, one giving me the thumbs up sign. Benito as agreed takes over with the cane and lays on three good ridge raisers across his thighs. I congratulate little Lucky on his fortitude, especially as he'd offered his hide free. No price had been discussed. We start to leave and Lucky too proud to plead has difficulty keeping his tears under control. Not liking to be cruel to children I only let him suffer for a couple of minutes before I go back and give him perhaps more than he might have expected. His delicate face blossoms with pure joy, he hugs me trying to kiss me and when I lift him up he slops all over my lips and whispers, "We go fuck hut?, all free, what you like?" I couldn't resist his considerate offer and we go off while Benito treats Mohammed to a nine year old Chinese.

The small fuck huts they provide near the flogging grounds are cramped and uncomfortable, little more than palm thatch lean-tos atop rough platforms with ladders. Usually they are messy with dried blood smeared on the narrow thin mattress along with other stains. When it is windless like today they are torrid inside and permeated with the aroma of stale semen and sweat. I follow little Lucky up the ladder, his lovely unblemished bum double mooning me and enter the oven, crawling in, there not being room to stand. We're soon both slippery with sweat and I slide my fingertips over his slight seven year old, nicely made body. I gently play with the brilliant, slightly raw stripes I'd etched in him. "Look good." he says. I smile and his head angles up to kiss me. I slip around on top and beside him nibbling his front, fingering his behind and lightly re-exciting the pain of his initiation. He's anxious to serve me in his own boyish way, an outburst of exuberancy with both hands, his lips and wiggling his toes against my thighs. We depart with a kiss and I promise him, on my word of honour, to flog him next time I'm come here.

Jojo and Ling are in the shower when I get back to my hut. Peeking in I see Jojo holding the hose to his lover's butthole and then Ling flushes cleanly. I ask them what they're up to remembering a torture I'd once used on Jojo. "We make clean for new game." Jojo explains, "American show me, I do him." I'm not sure what they're up to until I see them squirt vast quantities of my K-Y up their assholes. They lie back on the bed facing opposite directions and as is done in leg wrestling each raises his inside leg and they interlock them but only for mutual support. With more of my K-Y flowing they begin probing each others assholes working in two then three fingers taking their time twisting and wiggling to increase the sensation. Eyes becoming partly closed they relax languidly working with their fingers. Then as Ling's hand slips into his rectum, Jojo moans and his subtle writhings and wide mouthed expression suggest he's in some rapture. It's a minute before Jojo resumes his manipulations but it's not long before his somewhat larger hand works its way into the somewhat smaller orifice. Ling doesn't get quite the same thrill but obviously welcomes the feeling. The action slows, eyes flutter shut as they dreamily savour the sensations inside them and the loving exploration and stimulation of their lover's inside. Jojo starts stroking his cock glancing over at me, "Good game, both inside other same time." Ah, the pleasures I missed in my youth.

Soon Ling is also playing with his hardon but neither seem in any rush. This goes on for many minutes but is too beautiful to be boring. Jojo's thirsty so I go get them a Koala drink. When I come back Ling is vigorously thrusting his arm into Jojo who is rocking and panting loudly. He spurts on his belly. I lift their heads so they can drink from the glass as they both continue fisting. After I play with both of their penises, fingertips only, so they can concentrate on other things. A few interruptions and half an hour later Jojo dribbles again and with great slurping sounds they withdraw their arms and go off to shower babbling all the while. They come back to dry off making all sorts of cute poses for my benefit.

They're both hungry and want to eat. I'm horny and want sex. "After." Jojo insists and I have no choice. "Maybe special trip too." He knows how much I love torturing him. As we pass close to the Bamboo Grove he reminds me that I'd promised him his pick yesterday. I also remember that he promised to stay away from Raj's cutting but I don't bring it up. I leave the boys at the Grove with enough money to flog a few children and continue on my way. I'm tired of Jojo showing off how good he is.

Raj and Ebo are sitting on the bench outside the Longhouse and greet me when I arrive. Raj has had a few beers which are allowed on the occasion. My cutling sits with his knees wide apart but is in good spirits. I invite them to dine with us but Raj is not hungry, however they agree to visit my hut later. I join Benito at a table. A little busboy dressed in a top hat and full length open black net tights comes over to fill our glasses. His face, a swath across his chest and around his genitals were made up white with his lips nipples and cock bright pink. With heavy blue shadow around the eyes and on his tiny protruding balls it's a striking effect. He bows in a stylish exaggerated fashion as he leaves.

Across the room I see a handsome older youth who seems familiar and turning he recognizes me and comes over. It's Paul whom I'd watch Ali circumcise in the most excruciating way three years ago. He tells us he left Dar Lan shortly after that assisted by Ali's generosity and that he's doing well in Cebu through old Dar Lan connections. He's returned to visit and bring his brother Dana back with him. From his description I can remember his brother from the Blood Pledge Ceremony where he wielded a cutting whip. Dana also got a very good price for his foreskin today. "Dana tells me Ali wanted it last month but he decided to wait." I could understand why.

Jojo and Ling arrive from their flogging spree at the Grove looking quite pleased with themselves and we order our dinners. After, over coffees Paul confides. "I not much liked to be flogged when I was there, I had my share, but Dana get me to whip two friends as favour, I think maybe...."

Benito and I find the comment interesting and following it up. Paul is delighted when we volunteer to whip him. He buys a round of drinks to celebrate. Jojo, Ling and Mohammed all eager will get their turns. Paul asks to be hung by his wrists, his feet tied down at the Mango Tree and we can choose what instruments to use on his hide. Three dozen strokes, a cutling's measure it will be. Paul's skin is as soft and supple as I remember it and his strong eighteen year old's frame is a challenge after the smaller boys I've been abusing lately. Ten of my best with the lash on his chest barely calm him down and Benito's ten loud strokes of the cane across the buttocks bring the first expressions of his satisfaction. We leave it to the boys, the ever eager Jojo first of course, to complete the count. Paul calls out, encouraging the boys to do their best. I lose track but Paul's flogging seems to go on and on, and I find that each boy got in at least ten strokes and Jojo a few more. After he's untied Paul explains, "Three dozen not enough." The boys are all fascinated by Paul and drag him off to a nearby fuck hut. After caning a Vietnamese whipling, merely for something to do, I finally herd Jojo and Ling back to my hut to claim some long overdue pleasures with their flesh.

As soon as we're in the hut Jojo turns to me, "You like spank feet? extra hard, hurt very much, marks not show so make good special trip." I'm not sure what's up, Jojo hates having the soles of his feet caned, but he knows it's one of my favourite tortures. It's certainly not very showy as canings go but rather efficient in terms of pain technology. Does he know I saw him at Raj's cutting? Am I being softened up? I really should make him suffer more pain, I love him more when I do. But I'd never want to hurt his feelings. Anyway, as there's usually a price with Jojo I ask him how much. "You can spank feet free, hands also, anywhere no show. All free. Special trip, use needles, you like? I like. And Ling like you do him too. No money." That doesn't answer my question but I soon find out what they want is my promise to sponsor Ling as a pledgling when I came back to circumcise Jojo, sort of like playing a double header. I pretend Ling will be too fragile for the beatings and torture that pledglings deserve, that I wouldn't have enough freedom. Tempted as I am by images of agony distorting their intelligent and pretty faces as I beat the strangely sensitive soles of their feet I still refuse. "Maybe you like use alligator clip but not on titty, too sore." I tell Jojo absolutely "No".

Jojo finds he has one trump left; after rummaging around the room and finding something he pulls down his shorts and with my deliberately dulled pliers makes like he's going to nip his foreskin. I tell him not to be stupid, it would leave a scar. "You want to cut me like this, or other way, you be Ling's sponsor." Jojo's putting loyalty to his lover before me and I must choose between both or neither. I relent. They jump and shout "Yippee, yippee!" and hug me. Ling steps out of his shorts and puts my hand on his little beans as Jojo had when I said I'd sponsor him. I get a good grip where I can exert even pressure and begin squeezing rhythmically, a bit harder each time. Little Ling's agony becomes very real, he's starting to shake and grinding his teeth. "More, more," Jojo urges. I step it up for a couple of seconds until Ling's about to lose control and release him. He doubles over stifling his sobs as Jojo soothes him. A minute later however he comes to me, "You fuck me now?" I decide instead to have him blow me and I lean back on the bed and watch his bobbing head work away his skinny little body between my knees. After a slow start he becomes more eager taking more and more of my shaft in and using his lips more firmly. He sucks and swallows until I can take no more and lift him up wiggling over me and bring him down to hug and kiss and lick.

Jojo fetches a beer and two Pepsis, Coco-Cola lost the battle in Port Dar Lan, and we relax on the bed Ling curling up and sleeping. I mention his promise to stay away from Raj's cutting and Jojo's briefly contrite. "But I want to see and you not buy me nice Russian boy." A moment later he adds, "I give you special trip." I explain he already owes me a special trip. He seems to think for a few seconds and gets the dulled pliers again. Pulling out his cock he says, "You make one small snip, be like promise, OK?" I'm still hesitating when there's a knock on the door. It's Raj and Ebo, I invite them in and give them beers. Raj notices the pliers and asks to see them. He hands them back, snorts and says something. Ebo translates to effect that they give very much pain. Jojo again asks me to make one small snip. "You, me, like promise." I figure it's a bit of bravado on his part to impress the others so I take the pliers and snip about an eighth inch in as Jojo watches coolly. He may end with a tiny lump. "Now me you." What? I wonder, but Ling is undoing my fly and pulls out my cock. "Same, same." Jojo grins pinching out a small fold of my skin. My arousal is instantaneous and Jojo carefully snips as the sharp fiery pain flashes and reverberates through me. Jojo rubs his snip against mine. "Like promise." he smiles. Raj is quite amused when things are explained to him. Jojo also promises to make Ling strong for pledging, "eat plenty pig and rice". And he gets a small "down payment" for extra food.

Benito with Mohammed and a beautiful golden Malay cutling arrive in high spirits. Ronnie, we are informed is for our diversions should we get bored. Jojo, I can see wants to start right away but I tell him to serve the snacks and drinks I've ordered. Ronnie says it was his turn to be a waiter so he couldn't get flogged til the last night and was afraid he might miss out this month. I like his simple honesty. In some ways, good boys, kind, considerate and innocent boys are more fun to torment.

I serve another round of Pepsis and beer and hear a scraping at the door. No one is expected, I send Jojo to investigate. He calls back, "It's Lucky, he says it's important." Little Lucky comes up to me, "I want you do me special trip." I tell him his initiation was enough for one day but I learn that he's spend most of his earnings foolishly and needs money. "You like I put alligator clips on his titties?" Jojo asks. I tell him not to be so greedy. Lucky has already squirmed out of his clothes and glances at me hopefully fingering his tiny prick. There is some merit in Jojo's idea and I make a suggestion to Raj through Ebo. Raj smiles and nods to me. I give Lucky a box of clips and tell him to stand in front of Raj who's more comfortable sitting. Raj is very patient, reassuring and even gentle. After inviting the child to sit on a knee he rubs his neck before attaching a clip near the tip of his tiny prepuce. Lucky flinches and ooohs. Five or six seem to be enough for Raj, he ruffles the clips lightly and signals that Lucky should go and show them to others. After he has paraded around for a minute I tell him to put the clips back in their box. I pay him a modest sum, less than he hoped for but fair I feel. Ebo and Raj leave as he is tired from his ordeal.

"Can we spank Ronnie now? Tie up first?" Jojo pleads. I suggest he talk to Benito. The Italian proposes we each get six strokes on the golden lad and when he steps out of his jeans we're all amazed at his immense cock which droops half way to his knees. I notice Lucky is unhappy and find out he wants more money. I discuss a deal with him and talk to Ronnie. Lucky gets fucked and their differences in size make it an interesting match, and Ronnie, a credit to his imagination fucks the child in a variety of positions thrusting vigorously but never being rough.

We have our turns on Ronnie's hide but only Jojo who's last shows real enthusiasm, he escapes lightly. Lucky is happy to leave with Ronnie, no doubt he'll get fucked again. After we have some coffee and Koalas for the boys, Benito informs us that he has things to do. Mohammed's untouched ass needs a good caning and he has other exquisite tortures he prefers to carry out in private. I understand. We'll both be taking the boat out tomorrow.

Finally alone with my beloved Jojo and his little boy lover I explain that they both owe me a special trip. "Well make it quick." Jojo sneers. I tell them it won't take long. I have them lie down side by side on their bellies and tie their feet facing up securely to the side of the bed. I show them a heavy strap I intend to use and explain that Jojo will get five on each sole and Ling four with my blows alternating. I go on to explain that instead of their usual stoical reaction I want them to let go and try not to control themselves. I tell them to cry or scream if they feel like it. I don't hold back on the blows and Ling is soon squirming and squealing and then Jojo starts in. They howl and howl so loudly I wonder if some elder or buddy might intervene. Tears flow as they struggle and scream. It is so beautifully cathartic. I give each of them several extra blows each as they wail. I quickly untie them and lift them sobbing onto the bed, their bodies soft and limp. I soothe them kissing and caressing as they continue to sob and cry. A beautiful peace descends over us and later on I suck each of them lovingly and gently for many minutes and long after that I tenderly fuck their dozing forms.

An unseasonal rainstorm dampens the morning and both boys weep openly as I wade out to the waiting banca. I promise to return. Benito is in a reflective mood, "What a pity my only camera was my eyes."