The Rites at Port Dar Lan
The large banca is crowded suggesting that business must good at Port Dar Lan and I hear that a second boat left after sunrise. The Sun has become very hot, hardly any haze, and I spend most of the trip inside listening to the passenger's tales of their previous expeditions. Most seem to have a favourite incident or boy they recall. "I'll never forget this cheeky Kymer kid I had at the Mango Tree one time. Had him hung up by the thumbs, he wanted a bit extra for that mind you, and I lashed him the full three dozen and at the end blood was dripping from his toes. And after, up in the fuck hut he was like a bull in heat." "There was this Russian boy, I think he was new. You should have seen the expression on his face as I shoved the skewer through his foreskin and twisted." "There was this cute little tyke I met at the Grove and after nine of my best his tiny ass literally swallowed my nine inches and wriggled me off in seconds – it was absolutely incredible." Others were into simple quantitative boasting. "One day I striped seventeen at the Mango Tree, but did I ever have a crick in my shoulder after." Everyone is excited by the prospect of the sexual and sadistic delights that await them. My mind drifts off, I think of little Ling whom I've promised to sponsor, and the delectable tortures I've planned for him. And of course Jojo, my handsome spunky beloved whose foreskin will be mine to remove with as much painful ingenuity I can devise. I'm not sure if it's my aroused lusts or what, but I find it stifling and smoky inside and I opt for the blistering Sun and what little breeze there is, finding a cool spot on the rear deck near the tillerman. There are clouds in the distance over the interior of Borneo and the occasional flying fish gliding beside the boat.
I am watching the low coastline pass by with the surf breaking on the offshore reefs when an older conservatively dressed dark man with a large moustache and a military bearing sits opposite me. He offers me a cigarette, complains about the boat's facilities and introduces himself as "Brigadier D.K. Ratnasinghe, retired". I detect a touch of Sandhurst in his manner and speech. "I found the conversation inside rather lascivious and lewd, didn't you?" I shrug but don't ask him what he expected. "They sound like a bunch of sadists the way they go on, and all this sex business. I just want to beat a boy. A good thrashing shouldn't be undignified, let alone carnal. Why headmasters still resort to the cane in my country, and magistrates find it very effective in dealing with delinquents." I point out that flogging is never used as a punishment in Dar Lan, and that the ordeals inflicted are voluntary and may even have an affectionate dimension. "I find that difficult to accept, it's against my instincts, but what you say about other dimensions may have some truth. I've given the matter much thought and that's one of the reasons I decided to visit Port Dar Lan." The brigadier rambles on about fortitude, discipline, honour and other "gentlemanly virtues". I listen but become increasingly perplexed.
Finally leaning forward he confides, "Only a few people know about this, and officially I'm not supposed to mention it, but in the line of duty I've had to beat and torture hundreds of boys and young men, rebel suspects, to extract names and information." I tell him I'm curious. "There was of course no limit on methods, we were very pragmatic. You can't imagine the things that were done. I've seen many a youngster put on a noble performance under the severest duress often refusing to reveal what I already knew they knew. It was not pleasant work. Mind you I never tortured in anger or drunk like some of my colleagues." The brigadier stops to light another cigarette. "At the peak of the crackdown I was processing up to twenty youths a day, not a few of whom died by my hand. We did not have time for sophisticated techniques, I mainly used my trusty truncheon. Only in difficult cases would I resort to other tactics and the more tender areas, although attacking the privates was an approach favoured by some of my colleagues. Some even made the boys strip naked, an unnecessary indignity I feel." He stops for my reaction. I mumble to effect that under the circumstances it might not matter that much. "As I said it was not a pleasant task but I had my orders. I did my duty as an honourable man, a loyal and principled soldier. It was an insidious insurgency, we were patient but ultimately the government felt it could deal with it no other way. Perhaps the majority were innocent of any real subversive activity but we couldn't afford to take chances. Regrettably, whatever the outcome of the interrogation, and this has bothered me a great deal, they all had to be killed even when we were sure of their innocence. We had to protect integrity of the operation. We made no deals, and if we did we did not keep them."
"They knew." the colonel drags deeply on his cigarette. "The boys knew they would be killed, and many expected to be tortured first as many were. They were scared of course. Some may have hoped to be remembered as martyrs or heroes. Sometimes I would point out that any who might remember them would probably soon be dead too. I don't know why I felt some need to be honest with them. Some envied, or mentioned the Tigers for their cyanide capsules. They did not want to be tortured." Ratnasinghe glances at me briefly and shrugs. "The boys we had to torture and kill were not criminals or the yokels and scum that end up in the army. They were for the most part bright idealistic lads, one would be proud of them as sons... and some were. They were our own people, our own language and religion, and one was of my own blood. They claimed to be fighting for many of the things I believed in. They had of course been misled by their leaders but the situation had reached an impasse and there was no choice. The revolutionary youth had to be annihilated."
"Threats and trickery were often very effective with the young suspects and minimal violence convinced others to reveal what they knew even when they expected to die anyway. There was a feeling of power in making the youth, rarely girls, do or reveal what he least wanted to. The squeamish and cowardly youth were relatively easy to deal with and they rarely had much to tell anyway. But this still left many others, often key individuals we had to subject to whatever procedures we felt were necessary, and time was often a constraint. At times it was a most intriguing contest where you usually won. But sometimes you lost when the suspect died without giving you what you want. It was a challenge to maintain a proper professional attitude. The actual killing I usually delegated to a guard although this was not always practical. Often I had to admire their fortitude and fanaticism, their personal courage. But I willingly tortured them, believed in it, believed that it shortened the conflict and saved lives and suffering in the long run. The pleasure some of my colleagues took in their work occasionally bothered me. Others drank heavily to fortify themselves. But then I could understand the difficulties of dealing with the job. Sometimes I had to feign anger in order to do what I had to do. Unlike this place we're going to they couldn't refuse. You have no idea of the sense of power and the thrill of it. And it was almost intimate. I can see how some of my colleagues came to enjoy it. But I never did, that is not why I am going to Port Dar Lan."
"But it is not easy to torture, the young or anyone for that matter. I sometimes feel that we did not fully exploit other methods. Often, I felt for the young suspects I had to deal with. At first there were few good suspects and we had time to develop our methods and learn when we were hearing the truth. Initially we were mainly seeking information; names, locations, plans, and sometimes we could offer deals. It meant a lot of torture. We developed quick and effective methods of extracting information which you learned to do as a routine, obeying orders. If they were uncooperative, well, suffering was a consequence and we were encouraged to be imaginative. I had no experience, just a sense of duty and conviction. But it was difficult. Sometimes the only way to stay sane was to torture and kill more youngsters as if each new one validated the ones before. You simply believed in what you were doing." The brigadier pauses, looks at me and lights another cigarette. "Later on in the campaign we usually knew who we were after and simply eliminated them, that was easier, you never knew them. There was no need or time for torture although some of my colleagues liked to take a few liberties first. There were just so many young men and boys to be eliminated, thousands and thousands, in some villages we spared no males between 15 and 25 of certain castes. Some say over thirty thousand died. The devastation and sorrow wrought, the waste of young lives - what fine soldiers they'd have made - was tragic."
"I felt for them, it grieved me. Perhaps it would have been easier if they had been Tamils. Their insurrection must be crushed ruthlessly. I believe it's possible to tell the difference just by looking at them. It's the eyes, and despite what some say, they do have darker skin. It would have been easier killing people I could learn to hate for more than political reasons. Some of my colleagues were involved in what was euphemistically called 'youth thinning operations' in the north where we simply killed as many of the teenagers and young men as we could in enemy territory to deny the Tigers recruits. It was dirty work." I agreed that it was. I was often impressed by their determination in the face of certain doom. But I willingly did my duty. I even took pride in my skill with the truncheon, I became quite expert in breaking bones and knowing how much it took to kill a suspect. I was however bothered by the pleasure some of my colleagues took in their work. But then I could understand the difficulties of the job. One committed suicide. But now, I do not know if it was all necessary. I would not do it again, certainly, and yet I feel compelled to re-enact certain parts or aspects. I want to know what I know not. I am ready. That is why I am here." I've always regarded Dar Lan as more fun than therapy but I can't deny my companion, Mr. Ratnasinghe, his point. And perhaps he can't afford a good psychotherapist, or less cynically, needs better answers
He pauses to light another cigarette. "Often I would develop an intense feeling for the lad I was torturing, I can't explain it, more often it was for the dedicated idealistic revolutionaries among them than those who were probably innocent. It was more than just admiration for their courage and fortitude, it was… But it was certainly not carnal in any sense. I was trapped in a murderous cycle. These feelings became more and more powerful and by some quirk of guilt the killing of a boy became my exorcism, and freed me to torture the next one. While it continued, the cordons, the night raids, the selection, the simple killings, I could keep my wits about me. When it finally ended I thought I would go mad, the terrible nightmares, the … I came close to suicide more than once." The brigadier sobs and tries to apologize for any embarrassment he's caused. I try to comfort him and point out we will be landing in a couple of minutes. He gets himself under control and says we must get together at his cottage for tea.
In the scramble to retrieve my luggage I lose sight of Brigadier Ratnasinghe and by the time I let myself down into the almost knee deep water most of the passengers have already reached the beach. Holding my bags high out of the swell I plod towards the shore. Suddenly I'm leapt upon almost getting knocked over. It's Ling who hugs me around the neck, babbles and kisses me. "You come! You come!" After returning his greeting I get him to carry a bag. On shore he calls out to all and sundry, "My sponsor, my sponsor, he come. He whip me, he fuck me good." I humbly acknowledge the stares. On the path up to my hut he pesters me incessantly. "What you do? I ready what you like. Maybe needles my titi? You get all special trip you like." He practically pulls me along. I tell him I'll have many good times torturing him, and give him the most pain yet. "Like you do Jojo?" More, much more, I inform the child and he looks more pleased than scared. Ling puts an arm around my waist and glances smugly up at me as we march up the path. I'm not surprised to see Jojo, feet up on the railing, waiting for me on the porch. He leaps down, runs and leaps up on me. A fat wet kiss. I hug my beloved, tears running down my cheeks.
As soon as we're inside Jojo extricates his rigid titi and pulls out his foreskin as far as he can. "For you, nice for you to cut." I have to examine it and stretch the thin almost iridescent, blue tinged membrane and retract it to expose his soft rosy glans. "You make much pain I bet." I kiss his cock and kiss his lips, and assure him he won't be disappointed, but I refuse to tell him how I will do it feeding his curiousity.
Ling feeling neglected strips off his shirt and shorts and poses arms flexed. "See, see, I lift the weights to make big and strong. You feel." I look and feel, there's still not much solid flesh to abuse. "I eat extra rice every day." He turns to Jojo who nods. Ling tries another pose hands locked behind his back to display his chest and belly muscles, and smiles hopefully. It's true my new pledgling has put on some weight and muscle but he's also taller. Only his rubbery cock has grown appreciably. The small filets of his shoulder muscles and biceps offer modest opportunities and he still has stick arms. His chest has hardly any padding although my probing fingers find a hard rippled sheath on his belly. Only his buttocks and thickening thighs could take much sustained punishment, and they'll get worked over at his initiation at the Mango Tree tomorrow. I will have to use light instruments on him and rely on specialized tortures on his more sensitive parts, especially his sprouting cock and bean sized balls, and a thought crosses my mind, his elastic sphincter. I smile reassuringly and the hopeful look returns to his face.
Jojo, unhappy with the contents of the fridge whistles up a vendor boy. The whipling makes a point of displaying his lean muscular form and fingering his nipples he asks, "You like special trip me?" I explain that I don't have time right now. "Maybe you just squeeze balls, very quick." Jojo volunteers, but I tell him I won't pay and the vendor leaves affecting disappointment. I ask Jojo after and he says that more boys are into special trips, anything to get more money out the guests. It seems more greed, or merely good business sense, than desperation. The boys want more than they can earn from their monthly floggings. They feel it is too limiting, and demand the right, never really challenged, to solicit special trips as long as they don't leave much visible evidence. I try to explain to explain that the total spending may be limited and the extra competition would drive down the prices they could charge, they'd suffer twice as much for the same money in the end. My logic does not prevail and my beloved Jojo impatiently asks as soon as they have finished their junk food. "Can we start now?" I tell Jojo that first I want them to set out my things and oil the special whips and straps I've brought along. And I want to fuck him. While the boys busily set to work I take a refreshing shower and change into a towel. When I come back Jojo kneels on the bed, his hardon wagging, grins mischievously and sticks out his tongue. I knock him over, slap his bum and a boisterous play fight erupts. He gets me around the neck and twists an ear before I shake him off. After taking a couple of good kicks I grab an arm and force him down, bite a nipple but get a knee in the balls. We wrestle until we're both out of breath and end up cuddling and deep kissing. I work him on to my lap and slide easily into him. Jojo is all lovey dovey, caressing my shoulders and working his educated ass. Slow down I tell him, I want to prolong our first fuck, but he wiggles and bounces and I can't hold back, and he brings me off. For that he gets his saucy ass well slapped and his arm twisted until he squirms in pain although I think he's exaggerating, I enter him again, violently thrusting until I come again. We relax a minute before I suck him gently swallowing his tasty juice and continue more vigorously until I get seconds from his ever ready rod. I'll miss his silky foreskin.
I've been looking forward to torturing Ling's flesh for months. His sweet face has a look of surprise as I tell him his tests are about to begin and give him a sinister smile. We strip the child in seconds, such a delicate form with clear smooth, entirely hairless flesh flowing from head to toe. I decide not to suck him first and feel his slender thighs and narrow buttocks which by the end of the rites will surely be raw, swollen and blotched with purple and blue. We can't beat and bruise him yet but we can have our fun. I tell Jojo about my ideas for stretching and paining Ling's tiny sphincter. Jojo's keen on the concept, a lot of the fun will be his, and he tells me what we should do. I explain that although Ling may be his lover, whom he loves to torture, he is my pledgling and I will decide what to do him. Jojo looks briefly contrite. I tell him he can help, and when I tell him to connect the hose, he winks knowingly at me and I watch him gleefully shove the hose up my crouched pledgling's asshole bloating him twice before he's allowed to squat and flush. I suspect he's told his special friend what I did to him so I doubt if it's a surprise. The third time he forces in as much as he can and turns to me, "Where's the plug?" I smile and ask him what plug. "But I thought…" I smile again and when Ling, thoroughly flushed is back on the bed I bring out my tube of expensive personal lubricant and suggest he fist fuck his friend. I have him lie back on the bed and Jojo loosely ties his ankles up to a roof beam to keep his feet out of the way. I often marvel at how the design of the huts offer a myriad of opportunities for suspending and tying up boys; the posts, beams, convenient nails and hooks, and that wonderful lattice screen I've found so useful in the past. I sit with Ling between my legs with his ass right in front of me and his apprehensive face beyond. I will have a good view of the darling's reaction to his torments. Jojo generously lubes Ling's asshole first and in a little over a minute his hand disappears. My pledgling doesn't seem perturbed, I know Jojo's fist fucked him before at least once, and he continues to chatter. This is however only the beginning.
I shift around and cradle Ling's head on my lap and tell Jojo to make a fist inside and rotate his knuckles against the sphincter while he pumps in and out. Ling doesn't like this assault from within one little bit. I'm sure he finds this invasion of his body not only painful but very scary. I look in to his eyes, inches away from mine, as he struggles to control himself. I would be disappointed if he didn't. We let Ling rest while he catches his breath. Then I hold Ling solidly as Jojo widens his fist inside and starts jerkily to withdraw it. I have to brace myself like in tug-o-war as Jojo pulls against Ling's sphincter's resistance. I observe Ling closely as Jojo's fist finally tears free with a slurp sound. He is transported by the pain, and I imagine, the horror. His hole has been stretched and bruised. I am touched by his agony. I love it and have Jojo repeat the torment. He's had enough and it's a while before I attempt to communicate, and at first only to congratulate and flatter him. Even when they're more than willing, some boys are much more fun to torture than others, and Ling is one of them. When he's regained his composure Jojo and I take turns sucking him silly, then I fuck his tenderized ass, my pleasure enhanced by the pain I'm causing. I expect Jojo will want his turn and leave them alone.
I set out, the lengthening shadows of late afternoon providing some relief from the blazing heat of the day. I head down to the Mango Tree to exercise my arm but as the Bamboo Grove is not far out of my way I decide to look in. There's a certain charm to the suffering of small boys that I rather enjoy. It will whet my appetite. I watch one tiny lad endure seven resounding strokes of a cane on his ass, raise his fist triumphantly at the end, grab his generous fee and run off merrily. It was a beautiful minor flogging. I'm about to leave when Chi, Simon's nephew, shows up with little Luc Luc or Lucky, the small boy I remember trying to be brave. He is cute but I have no desire to flog him. While Lucky strips and parades around with his tiny hardon advertising himself Chi tells me that he often buddies at the Grove. He doesn't charge a commission like some do, and doesn't believe in it. I have fond memories of Chi whose flesh both Jojo and I enjoyed on my last visit. I don't think I've ever poked such a massaging hole before, a truly magnificent lad to fuck and abuse. Chi welcomes my hand on his bum and I caress his silky skin indulgently.
I suggest to Chi that he accompany me to the Mango Tree. He would be pleased to have me flog him, I'm very good he says, but he politely declines. He can't get whipped or make sex because of his work at the academy. "Maybe later." I'm perplexed but say nothing, I have never heard of schooling interfering with the rites before. Chi explains that he's a teaching assistant at the sex school where new arrivals learn to overcome their inhibitions. He saves his ejaculations for his job at the school and doesn't want to be flogged until his lessons are over, and I might have to put with some blemishes he's picked up from teaching boys how to use a whip. I can't feel any ridges. I am welcome to fuck him anytime, but decline. I promise to whip him on the last day. We even shake on it. I am fascinated by this dedicated, selfless lad. I have a strong desire to painfully assault his perfect flesh, to know him again that way. I detect noble qualities in the lad which will enhance the joy to be had from whipping him. I may have some pre-existing bruises and cuts to work on. Jojo would be very jealous if he knew. Such idealism is not common in Dar Lan unfortunately, the boys are a pretty pragmatic bunch. While I generally prefer flogging playful impertinent boys like Jojo, or sultry provocative ones, decent 'good' boys can also be fun to thrash. There's a particular cast to the pleasure derived from torturing simple, trusting, well intentioned boys which I sometimes relish. It's more of a moral than a sexual pleasure. I also believe they feel pain more acutely than the delinquent sort of lads. And of course each boy's character brings a particular flavour to the flogging. Whiners and pleaders rob it of all joy. I'm thinking it would be fun to have a go at Chi with him hung by his ankles spread upside-down from a branch. Lucky interrupts my fondling and Chi has to negotiate with a burly Australian who wants to strap Lucky's ass. The child climbs up on a big bamboo that has fallen over and at a use-polished section he hangs from it by his knees and elbows presenting his ass to his tormentor while giving him a good view of his face on the swing. Lucky grimaces with each blow as the Aussie inflicts the maximum damage he can with the eight blows allowed. I must remember to try it sometime as I enjoy seeing boys' reactions to beatings. Lucky not fazed by his whipping in style, and after letting go with his arms he flips himself back agilely landing on his feet. "Me brave now." He announces. I congratulate him and he proudly grins back.
Chi says he has to return to the academy to help Guru who runs the place with instructing some new boys and invites me to accompany him. I'm curious and prepared to forego a few floggings at the Mango Tree. Chi explains that Guru knows of me, he's had good reports from boys I've tormented and enjoyed, and I assume Chi acts with his knowledge. I follow Chi along the beach path towards the village, which is much shorter than the one along the loop of the river I'd taken two years earlier. Along the way Chi explains that many new boys are very ignorant, bashful and just plain stupid. Near the centre of the ramshackle village we climb up some rickety stairs at the rear of a drygoods store to the quarters above and enter a large room with a high thatch ceiling. At the far end I see a dark, wiry animated man around sixty with long sparse hair talking with three boys at a table. "He Guru." Chi informs me. Guru, a tall man rises, a bright royal blue robe over his shoulders, stands briefly to greet us before returning to his discussion. We will have to wait. Two of the boys, who look about fourteen wear long bulky clothing inappropriate for the climate and seem to be suffering from the heat. The third somewhat younger one is naked except for a Seattle Mariners baseball cap. He is Alade, another assistant. He's an exceptional looking boy with doe eyes, a pert nose and barely looks thirteen except that he is quite hirsute. Fine wispy hairs descend from his sideburns and overrun his upper lip. His legs, forearms and also his narrow chest and slim belly have a sparse gossamer like black fur that barely thickens on his pubes. His alert eyes and quick movements add to his feral appeal, in all a sexy looking wolf boy. The others may be from around Afghanistan or thereabouts. Chi says they are Kalla and Taruna and come from this place where boys don't learn much about sex until they are married and that nudity is a big taboo. "It is hard, nobody speak their dialect, but Alade, he good with words, know many languages. He come three months ago, learn sex and English very quick. Now him help other new boys. On one wall I notice large hand drawn and coloured anatomical diagrams with carefully detailed sexual organs. Others show boys and men in different sexual acts and positions all with happy, ecstatic faces. Cross sections show sucking and fucking. Chi points out a dozen or so crude drawings of erections which were the winners of a contest where boys had to sketch each other's cocks. On a shelf below are several moulded life sized male genitals are displayed. I notice that Guru is trying to teach the English names for various parts of the body. Alade helps with pronunciation and encourages them. The two boys become very bashful when the body part that has the most names in English is discussed. "English best for talking to tourist."
Some time later Guru beckons us over and extends his hand in greeting. "Welcome to our academy. Only rarely do our assistants invite guests here. The Council must have given its approval." I tell him I feel privileged to be here. "Our work is difficult and challenging but very rewarding. So many boys, so many different backgrounds and languages, we are truly multi-cultural. In our work we have so many customs, taboos, superstitions and prejudices to overcome. And as you've probably already guessed many have been traumatized by wars and massacres. But you'd be surprised how quickly many of them recover with heavy doses of affection, petting and sex. Unfortunately it's a therapy unavailable in most places. Those who grow up in Dar Lan learn sex naturally being active from infancy and are free and proficient, but the newcomers, and there's a growing stream of them, are often sadly deficient in basic sexual knowledge and skills. Taruna here, he indicates the dark sensuous youth on his left, has probably never been naked since birth. The boy smiles sheepishly not understanding what is being said. "As an infant he was bathed with a cloth wrapped around him as he still bathes today. He has probably never closely examined his own genitals let alone anyone else's. Where he comes from husbands and wives never see each other naked. He won't even look at the diagrams if he thinks others are around." He averts his eyes when I look at him. Chi puts an arm around him reassuringly. "Kalla and Taruna are unusually backward but I would guess within a month or so they will be sexually versatile and enthusiastic. Many go through a catch up phase of intense activity. Right now they are being accustomed to seeing other boys naked, later they will see them engaged in casual sex play and begin to learn healthy attitudes. Alade, for example learnt very quickly. He first experienced sex less than two months ago, now he loves it. With Chi's help he easily learnt to relax his sphincter and some say it's as if it has lips and a tongue. Chi was very patient starting with a finger, spending a lot of time sensitizing the rim and massaging his hole. Soon Alade was begging to be fucked, always trying to see how big a cock his ass can take. He is still in the stage of glorying in it, not yet appreciating it as power. Many of the boys who make their way here, usually with the help of graduates of Dar Lan, believe this is some is some shangri-la where they will magically become rich. The tales they hear are greatly exaggerated… Excuse me, I talk too much… Chi?"
Chi nudges Kalla, "Kalla like dance? Kalla and Chi dance. Guru happy Kalla and Chi dance." Chi puts a tape in a ghetto blaster and takes the boy's hand. He begins swaying and stepping to the strange music I do not recognize, and Kalla hesitantly copies him. The other new boy, Taruna remains expressionless and watches furtively. Guru, indicating him turns to me, "Taruna speaks the same language but he's very withdrawn and has hardly said a word since he's been here. Kalla on the other hand knows a little English and is quite curious although they've only been here for a week. We try to work in English and teach the basics to the boys as well as a few key sex words in German and other languages."
The tempo of the music speeds up and the two boys keep pace. Kalla's movements become more energetic and he seems to be enjoying himself. Guru, myself and Alade applaud. Alade stands behind Taruna and gently begins to massage his neck and shoulders, and after a minute invites him with gestures to join in the dancing. Taruna indicates that he doesn't want to and Alade resumes his gentle massage. At a signal from Guru Alade joins the dancing boys and Chi doffs his scant attire. Kalla pretends not to notice and Taruna turns his head but we catch him stealing glances. He covers his eyes but peeks between his fingers, his other hand covers his crotch suggesting he may have a hardon. "An odd thing about Taruna," Guru remarks, "a boy in the village playfully began spanking him, and Taruna seemed to like it so he kept it up until his own hand was getting sore. Hard to say how much he felt through all those clothes. I have theories but don't really know what to make of it." The music reaches a frenzied pitch the three boys shaking, stomping, twisting and jumping in time. Again we applaud. Then Karuna standing apart begins dancing too and is soon outperforming the others. I watch entranced at the spectacle of two clothed and two naked boys dancing, each probably more entranced than I. The tape ends, the boys are exhausted and Guru invites me to return tomorrow.
Jojo and Ling have drunken everything in my fridge, including two bottles of Heineken I'd reserved for the evening. Ling is all silly smiles. I ask him about his abused asshole and Jojo replies, "I fuck it better like kiss for sore finger." I decide to see for myself. Ling's rosebud looks ready to blossom, it's very tender indeed and feels a bit spongy inside. It's not a good idea to wait until healing begins, and besides another fuck will be good test for my darling pledgling. He dutifully squats on my rod his obvious discomfort fueling my overdue lust. He pretends it doesn't hurt although I know it must and I cuddle and kiss him after. I figure there's just enough time for one more torture before dinner. I ask him to lie belly down on the bed with his knees bent and Jojo steadies his ankles presenting his pink soles for my pleasure. I stand where he can't see me or tell which foot is to receive my painful ministrations. He insists on taking Cheezies to munch on. I'm not sure I should allow him but it shows a boyish disdain for pain I like. While canes or bastinados are traditional for beating the feet I believe a heavy narrow strap has advantages. After my second searing blow Ling loses interest in his Cheezies. I let up slightly. After six hard blows on each sole Ling is losing his composure and I make him stand and walk. Then I tell him to hold out his left hand, palm up. Ling hesitates, turns away, but then making brief eye contact he firmly holds out his hand. The hands are very sensitive but also very tough and therefore ideal for receiving pain. Four on each palm leave Ling quite subdued. I check to see if there are any blisters forming and then I have him take another two on each. The extra ones really get to him. There's also time to start working on his tiny titties, they'll look prettier for tomorrow's ceremony if they're a bit swollen. I pinch and twist and the combined assaults seems to be getting to the sweet boy as he grits his teeth and shudders. Jojo watches intensely and frigs himself. I tell him to stop, and suggest that if wants to he can suck Ling's prick. "Can I put clips on first?" He may but I warn him to be careful as I don't want any marks or inflammation that will show the next day. He retracts the foreskin and carefully places three clips on the child's frenum before vigorously sucking him. Ah! Ling's agony is exquisite, I pinch and twist harder but the child's had enough for now. His nipples are rosy and plump. I ask the boys to help me tidy up. Jojo wants to fuck his lover again but I tell him there isn't time. He pleads with his eyes but I am resolute.
It's a beautiful evening with a cooling breeze. The sky is streaked pink and magenta with the Sun just setting. We're late as it is and the young busboys, body painted as tigers are already clearing some tables. Brigadier Ratnasinghe is still there with a sturdy, tough looking, dark South Indian boy who looks like he could take some heavy beatings. They have just been served and he suggests we join them. I have no sooner introduced my young friends than a tall whipling waiter comes to our table. His gold turban contrasts with his collarless raw silk jacket which reveals his genitals loosely encased in a gold open mesh pouch. Gold nailpolish sparkles on his fingers and toes. Appropriately the entrée is rice and curries. I order plain tea with Pepsis for the boys. The brigadier introduces us to Ranjan, whom he's sponsoring as a pledge. I congratulate him on his choice and Jojo whispers in my ear, "I know him, him be new boy, just few months."
Ignoring the boys the brigadier puts his hand on my arm, "I'm glad to see you ordering plain tea, most of my countrymen insist on adulterating it with milk and sugar." I want to explain that my choice is due to the terrible coffee served in the Longhouse but I politely refrain. "But if you enjoy tea you must come to my cottage, I brought with me a small supply of my favourite high grown variety which is far superior to the low grown, supposedly full bodied teas many of my compatriots prefer." I more politely than sincerely accept his open invitation. "Pursuant to our earlier conversation, young Ranjan here, I've come to believe that if I could beat a boy, make him suffer as I've done to many others, and then be kind, gentle and loving towards him, not carnally mind you, it might help me overcome my terrible nightmares." I'm not sure if I follow his logic but I nod. "Initially, you know, when I heard of Port Dar Lan I was shocked and disgusted at the idea of boys allowing themselves to be whipped for crass commercial gain. It smacked of prostitution. It's not the same as suffering for principles and ideals, misguided as they may be." I explained that at least the boys are willing, and that nobody really gets hurt. "You have a point, and I hear some even derive a carnal pleasure from it. It sounds so… perverse." I mentioned that some might find it perverse to want to whip and torture boys in the first place. "Well yes, I could never understand the French soldiers who would pick up Algerian boys and torture them for sport, however in the line of duty, or in the present case for… what you might call therapeutic purposes…" But if they are willing, why not for pleasure? "Uh." The brigadier hesitates and leans even closer and lowering his voice, "Now that you've broached the question, and I suppose that's why most guests are here, I confess that I've obtained a certain satisfaction myself." He looks around quickly, "This afternoon I went down to this Mango Tree and flogged several of the older ones. Stout lads, I gave them quite a thrashing." He pauses. "But they seem to think everyone has lewd intentions, not that I'm prejudiced mind you, after all I spent thirty years in the forces and can understand that some people are that way. But to flaunt it! Why one lad even refused to put his unders back on and remained in a state of arousal the whole time. And after he asked if I wanted to bugger him. I bloody well wanted to give him another thrashing. It's all so discombobulating." I assume he got some pleasure from flogging the boys, I would like to ask if got aroused, but don't. Jojo whispers in my ear, "Weirdo".
Our rice and curries arrive and the suave waiter smiles at me. I pinch his bottom and return the smile as Jojo glares. "I warn you," the brigadier plays with his moustache, "that they don't know how to make a good curry, and they should never serve it with long grain rice." I make a discerning face as I sample the entrée and comment that it's not all that bad. My boys have no problem quickly stuffing themselves and going off to talk to friends at another table, the brigadier seems relieved that they're gone. "I don't think it's a question of pleasure, and I worry that I may have compromised my principles by coming here." I give him an understanding, reassuring look. "But when I remember the thrill and the sense of longing I had for some of the boys I beat and the guilt ridden nightmares I suffer, even that seems a small price." He gestures towards his pledgling, "Now Ranjan, a stout lad I'm sure, and actually a Tamil even though he's no darker than myself, Why I can even speak a few words, though perhaps on the young side, may be just what I need to help me work out my problem… He tells me that after the rites tomorrow that I can beat him within the limits of safety which one of the older boys explained to me." I try to explain that he could start torturing his pledgling now, but he changes the subject and inquires about my boys. He looks askance when I tell him I'm sponsoring Ling. "But he's such a frail lad." I reply that this will not prevent me from inflicting extreme agony on his slender form, that I have in fact already begun, and that I derive great pleasure from torturing him. I can tell that he has questions his culture prevents him from asking. I tell him what I plan to do to Jojo, who pulls out his cock to show to the brigadier. "Circumcision is not one of the customs of our race, although the Muslims practise it… and I understand it's a tradition here, but I can't see why anyone would want to interfere with a boy's privates." The boys start crowding around, Jojo and Ling are anxious to leave. Jojo rotates his eyes and makes a stupid face, he is bored. I explain to the brigadier that I promised each of them a boy to whip and they're getting impatient. I further explain that no one has given me more pleasure in their torture than Jojo, and that I love him for it. As for the privates, I explain with minor disclaimers that the testes offer unique opportunities to induce suffering in boys. Jojo grabs his balls, pretends to squeeze them and scream. The brigadier is visibly taken aback, "Well I suppose that's true… but what do you do when you're finished with a boy?" Ling gives me a slobbery kiss and Jojo, not one to be subtle, makes thrusting pelvic motions. The brigadier gets up in a huff, "It's been a pleasure. Come along Ranjan."
The three of us head off down to the Mango Tree, the boys laughing and shoving each other in manic high spirits. They know they are getting treats and don't bother to plead the need for practice. I too am anxious to get in a couple of floggings having not yet indulged myself. The slapping smacking thwacking sounds of abuse grow louder as we descend the trail. And someone is playing a drum. There's a big crowd and the blazing torches tended by red robed whiplings give the assembly a theatrical quality. Perhaps a dozen naked boys are dangling from the great tree's spreading branches, like some kind of boyfruit, among the many green mangos hanging by long stems. Others are tied to the various contraptions around it. We're approached by several lads right away but I want to take in some of the glorious ambience of multiple torchlight floggings first. Not so Jojo, he's found a cocky, expensive hill tribe cutling he wants to have hung by his thumbs. The price comes down a bit when two others try to undercut him but I can see it's a seller's market. Ling claims a big African but watches Jojo cane his choice first. After viewing the painfulsome proceedings for several minutes I can hold off no longer and my fancy is taken by a tall slender, shaved head youth with sparkling eyes. Intertwined barbed wire and satanic skull tattoos decorate his upper arms and his open ragged sleeveless jean jacket display his large full nipples. Using a lash with uncommon accuracy I get both of them bleeding freely and work my remaining strokes down his muscular bronze belly to the black powder puff crowning his snaky cock. He looks bored but thanks me with a smile when I pay him after.
I feel good and am looking around for another boy to exercise my arm on when I hear someone call out, "Bravo, Ali!" followed by scattered applause. I turn and catch a glimpse of Ali, his Bedouin robes swirling as he swings a long tapered whip back and sends it singing forward. Pushing through the crowd I see the final line of a five pointed star developing, as on photographic paper, on the frontside of a large Vietnamese boy. "Voila!" he calls out to the appreciative audience who again applaud. Sammy, Jojo's buddy of many years sees us, waves and beckons us. As we make our way over Ali retraces the pattern never deviating more than inch from the original. "Him they call maestro." a boy admiringly comments. When he's finished a number of other boys pester him to be next. "For free." I hear one lad say. Jojo looks up at me, "He like legend, like in komic book. Big honour to be whipped by Ali, he do me ten times now and plenty special trips."
Ali brushes them off, "Four is all I'll flog now, try again in the morning." And turning to me , "Ah, it is good to see you again, I have heard many good reports about your work. You must come to my hut later, I have some delicious treats. Here I must perform rather than indulge myself." Ali introduces us to a young man in a nautical uniform standing nearby. "This is Poon, an old Dar Lan boy. I harvested his skin a dozen years ago. He now owns a charter yacht and when I found out he was bringing four new boys to Dar Lan I made arrangements to accompany him. Jojo pointing at a sandy haired Bosnian boy we'd met as a vendor earlier starts pestering me, "I want him, I want him." I tell him No, explaining that white boys are very costly and that he could have just as much fun with some other boy. Jojo is adamant, "White skin better for practice whipping." I continue to resist knowing he's likely to sulk. "I want, I want." he shouts. I fear he's going to have a tantrum but I still refuse. "I give any special trip you like." I am not tempted, I don't need any more special trips. I am going to cruelly circumcize my beloved anyway, and I have sweet little Ling to torture in other ways, not mention the delights of the Mango Tree and the Bamboo Grove. But Jojo pleads, and let's face it, I love torturing him in particular, and I have an inspiration. Jojo's form is much improved and the Bosnian's pale torso soon sports two dozen long even bright red weals. Even Ali is impressed. I am caught up in the spirit of the occasion and lash a dusky Palestinian cutling bloodying his chest and thighs. It feels so satisfying I must have another, choosing a shy child-like pledgling and test him as hard as I can with a dozen blows of the cane on his narrow svelte buttocks and thighs. I would dearly like to take him to a fuck hut for more fun, he encourages me with pleading eyes, but the jealous eyes of my beloved and young pledgling give me second thoughts.
Ali is relaxing on his porch with Sammy and offers us soft sweet dates and succulent grapes. He is drinking tea but I accept his offer of a beer and there's passion fruit juice for the boys. "I understand you're trimming Jojo, I think it's auspicious when a pledgling's sponsor returns to harvest his prepuce. And Sammy here, I've looked forward to adding his to my collection for what, seven years?" Sammy grins bashfully and nods. "I have special plans for his generous sheath." I wonder what diabolical method he has in mind. "I am expecting a couple of young visitors to provide us with entertainment. A simple flogging would be a waste of their beauty and talents. I've not yet finished my beer when two blue eyed fair skinned youngsters who might be fraternal twins come bouncing up the steps. "Ah, Jedhi and Jodhi, I'd like you to meet my friends." While they are not twins they seem to be lovers judging by the subtly nuanced way they relate to each other. When they strip I notice they both have similar wiry lithe bodies and both have faint downy smudges on their upper lips and pubes. And each in his own way has a bright expressive face. They tell us the porch is not big enough, they will perform in the clearing in front while we are to observe from the railing. Sammy lights two torches and places them near the corner posts. The youngsters go out into the darkness and reappear from either side. Jedhi, a capitalist Ali tells me, wearing an improvised top hat and sporting a hardon strolls regally, his head tilted back. Jodhi, a poor man, walks bent over, head down wearing a simple peasant's hat and bumps into Jedhi who pulls out a short whip and cursing loudly beats the peasant savagely, brutal blows that are no make believe, and haughtily proceeds. Ali tells me that was Act One. Act Two follows in less than a minute. The capitalist is sitting crouched over with a greedy expression going through the motions of counting money. From behind the peasant stealthily approaches, picks up the whip and gives the protesting capitalist a sound and nasty thrashing and triumphantly marches away with a hardon. The pantomime is well done and the real blows give it a surreal dimension. Act Three begins again with them approaching from opposite directions, both looking confident and proud. Both have hardons and carry whips. They stop nose to nose and stand there like Dr. Suess' Zacks making threatening faces at each other. The capitalist tries to push the peasant aside but gets shoved back. Then almost taking turns they whip each other enthusiastically for about a minute before turning towards us and displaying their welted bodies and taking a bow. They join us on the porch and Ali serves them soft drinks. I ask them where they learned acting. "The Communist cadres come and show play and shoot landlord. Then soldiers come and shoot people and burn village. We like shoot both but whips better than guns. But this more better." They embrace, kiss and fondle each other's cocks lovingly. Then they dress, collect their fee and a bonus from me, and wander off. After they're gone Ali tells me they've been inseparable since they were nine, and are unusually jealous. They don't like tourists whipping or fucking them so they put on pantomimes. Same age lovers are uncommon in Dar Lan, and he adds, are not encouraged.
It's late when we get back from Ali's and we're all tired. I reluctantly forego the torture I'd planned for Ling, he falls asleep almost immediately and I content myself with sucking and fucking Jojo. I will save the special trip he's negotiated until after the rites. He wants to get a good night's sleep so I decide to return to the Mango Tree and indulge in a torchlight flogging. I see a fashionably dressed but not particularly attractive whipling with striking bright blue spiked hair. When I start to negotiate he shows me a special whip I could use. It's a mean looking instrument and would cost a lot extra. "You like see blood, make plenty." I'm not in a cruel mood and settle on caning a plump Chinese whipling for half the price. Then I notice a stir in the crowd when a handsome blond boy in a fancy red silk robe arrives accompanied by two other fair boys. I recognize him from my previous trip as Ilya, the Russian lad who was skewered and whipped at a special event in the Longhouse. One of the others is his kid brother Vasily. Ilya raises his arms in a dramatic gesture and most of the spectators turn to look. Vasily flamboyantly takes his robe while the other massages his shoulders. It reminds me of a boxer entering the ring with his seconds. Ilya steps out of his silk shorts and turns around to display his magnificent slender body. I can just make out a couple of faint scars from his skewering. His other buddy calls out, "SILENCE. Silence. What do I hear for the privilege of flogging this choice specimen? Look at his beautiful ass, his lovely thighs, and his sexy belly. They can be your's!" The bidding is spirited and the successful bidder, an elderly well dressed Korean, pays well over twice the going rate for white flesh. I am surprised that Ilya whimpers and moans as he is lashed but I am told by a Polish visitor that is what the Korean requested. "He also wanted the boy to make a political statement but I was told the Council would never permit such an outrage." With the crowd's appetite whetted Vasily's hide is auctioned off next, followed by the third boy's. It's obviously a routine they've used before. I'm not sure if I approve of this marketing trend, I prefer privately negotiatiing with boys, but then the Council must have given its blessing.
I wake long before the snoozing boys beside me. Their still unblemished flesh feels so smooth beneath my caresses and is a delight to my eyes. How nice it would be if I could flog them bloody every day and waken to them pristine the next morning. Alas, it is not a perfect world, one cannot have one's cake and eat it too. I open the shutters, breathe in the cool morning air and listen to the twitters and calls of birds. Ground hugging mists endow the jungle with a magical, ephemeral quality. It must have rained. I pour myself a glass of mango juice, sit beside my sleeping pledgling and contemplate more tortures to inflict on his dainty body. Jojo rolls over on his back his cock proud from some erotic dream. This may be one of my last chances to savour it unblemished and intact so, trying not to disturb him otherwise, I slowly, gently suck in its length smelling the pubescent fragrance of his groin and tasting his cheesy secretions. My lips and tongue seem unusually aware of his cock's exquisite shape and texture. I believe I can just detect the beginnings of his spasms when he announces, "I go pee." and hops out of bed. I wait for the tinkling sounds. Nothing. Then grinning puckishly Jojo calls to me, "I do by hand." Feeling cheated I dash to the doorway and see him peeing. Back in bed he tells me, "Joke only. Now you suck." And he wraps his legs around my neck and starts pumping. It's not the way I wanted it and his boy juice soon squirts deep in my throat where I barely get a taste. I console myself with Ling's less tasty prick and after his third set of shudders he too has to pee. Jojo laughs. I grab him and toss him belly down and am about to fuck him when Ling returns with a big grin on his face. I will fuck Jojo but I want Ling to suck me first. "After we eat." Ling insists. I persuade him to compromise with just a glass of juice. He obliges and still in a state of arousal I fuck Jojo but more lovingly than I intended. He's such a fine boy and sweet when he wants to be. Jojo of course wants a final fuck in Ling's ass before his titi is decorated at the Blood Pledge Ceremony. I considerately wait on the porch and suspect he goes for seconds which I know he's well capable of.
Breakfast at the Longhouse is rushed as they have to arrange things for the ceremony which starts before noon. Ali is there with Sammy whose generous skin he has come to harvest. "This will be my finest specimen. I've had my eye on it for many years and made him promise he'd let no one else take it." Sammy stretches it out so we can appreciate its proportions. "I long time stretch hard for Mr. Ali." "I appreciate that." Ali assures him. He turns to me, "Just before I left I commissioned one of my country's finest craftsmen to make me a large display case for my prized prepuces. The body will be of the best ebony inlaid with mother of pearl. Around the base and just below the lid he will set matched rubies into a gold bands. I recently purchased a magnificent star sapphire which will serve as a handle for the silver framed glass top. Sammy's fleshy momento will be the centrepiece." Jojo is nonplussed and wants to know, "What you do with mine?" I tell him maybe I could make it into a change purse. "Not that big" Jojo asserts. I tell him it depends on how much skin I take, and besides I may not have much money left after I pay him. After breakfast I leave the boys at the Longhouse and exercise my flogging arm at the Mango Tree until it's time to return and attend to Jojo's tassled attire.
The Blood Pledge Ceremony never ceases to fascinate me. Behind all the boyflesh and blood served up with pomp and style, and all the agony and fortitude, there's some masterful choreography. Dr. Swartz was indeed a genius and the boys have done an excellent job in preserving his art. Even the brigadier gets caught up in the energy of the occasion shouting, "Good show, good show." As Ranjan flails away, and I must say he far outperforms frail Ling with the stinging whips. Jojo wields the cutting whip with considerable skill and apparent satisfaction judging by his prominent boner. At the conclusion I remove the tassled hooks from Jojo's sweat drenched body and carefully replace those through his foreskin with small gold rings, eight in total, arousing my beloved's curiousity. They will remain permanently attached to the foreskin, although the foreskin will not remain permanently attached to the boy. The effect is quite exotic, especially with the skin retracted where the rings appear as a glittering garland around his cock. Jojo can't wait to show them off to his buddies. I'm glad he likes the rings.
At the initiations at the Mango Tree the brigadier vigorously inaugurates his sturdy pledgling's ordeal and proudly watches his subsequent ordeal which barely tests him. Poor Ling's scant floggable flesh emerges with few opportunities for immediate thrashing and his left nipple for which I had dolorous plans gets a nasty cut. The little boys did a very thorough job on his ass. Fortunately his hairless genitals and the insides of his lovely thighs are relatively unscathed as Jojo is quick to note. I suppose I shouldn't complain.
Back in my hut Jojo is anxious to try out his ring garlanded cock in Ling's tenderized asshole. I'm anxious watch what should be interesting torture for both of them. My well striped pledgling is still quite uncomfortable from his initiation and does not appear anxious to be fucked. Jojo shakes his cock making faint jingly sounds. "I make music inside you." It takes some flattery and tender kisses before Ling consents and crouches on the bed. I watch the ringed shaft's abrasive pain wracked entry, it's going to be fun for both of them, especially my darling pledgling. They fuck slowly and gingerly as Jojo strokes his special friend's little hardon. Pain and sex are beautifully synchronized. Both are bleeding slightly when they finish fucking. I decide to leave them alone. As I pass the brigadier's hut I hear the thwacking sounds of a solid beating, Ranjan's getting a heavy testing. I wonder how the hose I suggested is working.
Down at the Mango Tree I unwind from the excitement of the ceremony by flogging a couple of husky cutlings with a delicate pledgling for dessert whom I entertain in a fuck hut after. I feel much better, more relaxed and able to concentrate on plans for my next assault on my darling Ling's flesh and nerve endings. The boys and a well bruised Ranjan are drinking Pepsis and munching junk food when I return. I ask Jojo if he had a good fuck. "Very much, good torture, both get plenty pain." Ling seems less enthusiastic. I closely examine the child's inner thighs and am thinking about the best way to whip them, a cane, or a strap? when Jojo interrupts. "Ranjan here, he have big problem. He feel bad." I mention that it looks like he got a rather hard beating, but Jojo says it's not that. He explains that he came across Ranjan crying to himself outside the brigadier's hut and invited him over. It seems Ranjan is very unhappy with his sponsor. He tries to please the brigadier but he says the man doesn't like him,. "Why did Mr. Ratna pick him if he not like him?" I too am curious why the brigadier might not like him and manage to ask Ranjan why. "Beating OK, brigadier beat very hard, but make me keep clothes when he beat,, and after when I try, he not sex me and get angry. I feel shamed." Ranjan certainly looks miserable and I feel sorry for him. "And no special trips. Just drink tea and smoke." Jojo indignantly agrees, "Weirdo not fair!" and says that sponsors have obligations, "Not just torture." He hugs me proudly, "Sex all time." I'm flattered, but suggest that it's not nice to refer to Brigadier Ratnasinghe as a 'weirdo'. "But not fair." Jojo protests, "Boy and sponsor make deal. Boy get money and man torture boy and make sex too, like you. Sex make torture better." I try to explain that people are different and that some men may not like sex with boys. I make a plea for tolerance and understanding, but Jojo is not impressed, scowls, and spits, "Weirdo!" I tell him I will speak to the brigadier. However right now there's the matter of his little lover's next torture. Ranjan can watch if he wants.
Jojo eagerly obeys when I ask him to lay out the instruments of the titi torture trade; alligator clips, pins and hooks. We sit on the bed and Ling stands facing us. I survey the dainty appendage that is going to be the object of much painful attention. It is in the early stage of rapid growth, pleasingly sculptured and readily erects, all three and three quarter inches I am told. Is there anywhere where boys measure their manhood in metric? We start by licking his jolly lollipop teasingly, almost a torture in itself.
Jojo giving me a smug, malicious smile takes two alligator clips, pulls the foreskin back stretching the little frenum taut. As Ling looks on, a determined expression on his face, I make dozens of very quick pricks on the sensitive web. Ling 'oohs' and trembles. I'm sure it's a torture he expected. Then as Jojo pinches out his inner foreskin I slowly and patiently pierce the membrane all around as close as I can with shiny blue headed hat pins. I give each a good yank to increase the pain. Ling endures it stoically and seems pleased, "I do good, huh?" I tell him I am pleased and give him a kiss. We all agree it looks quite pretty. Ranjan says he'd let his sponsor do the same, I think he's envious, and Ling lets him pull out the pins. We rest, the younger boys finish off the Cheezies and Jojo and I share a beer. Jojo has no trouble getting his lover hard again and we give his titi another good workout with our lips. The little swollen lumps around the piercings give it an interesting texture. Ling can't take any more sucking after a while so I suggest we go to the Longhouse to eat. I plan to torture his cock again tomorrow. Ling does endure suffering admirably but I believe it is more out of duty and pride than any intrinsic pleasure he derives from pain. He also lacks any real capacity for sadistic cruelty which is one of Jojo's charms. He likes to flog other boys of course, but only as he might enjoy playing checkers or eating Cheezies. I don't think it's a passion with him. And ultimately it is boys with a passion for pain, both ways, that are the most satisfying to torment. But then I'm not sure. Up at the Longhouse he finds a couple of buddies who are also pledging and they exchange stories and show each other the handiwork of their sponsors. A burly unattractive, white tinted waiter arrives with the menu inked on his back and guests are expected to felt pen their orders on their chests. After Jojo has indicated his choice he starts making scribbles all over the waiter's front until I stop him. Jojo looks at me, "I just make him like orangutan." I tell him he was very rude and barely enjoy the breast of chicken with teriyaki sauce.
After dinner I inflame Ling's calves and upper arms and shoulders with a light strap. It really hurt him and left him exhausted and sfter he wants to be alone. I can understand that, and he curls up beside the ghetto blaster. When he refuses to let Jojo fuck him again my beloved wanders off. And he doesn't want me to cuddle him so I leave too. No one seems to be home at the brigadier's so I stroll around by the Bamboo Grove with no lustful intentions. I watch a couple of routine canings, one a re-enactment of a schooldays scene, and then Chi arrives with two new boys. "They want to watch, first time." Chi explains the rules and how they get money. The new boys appear fascinated by the proceedings and nudge each other. "I spank them little bit last night, then they spank me and I spank them more. Maybe next month tourist spank." I agreed that that was a worthy goal. My admiration and lust for this intriguing boy grows, I like his intelligent face and lean, defined muscular torso. I think what a superb boy to whip, a real challenge to my artistry and skill. And I like Chi's genuine desire to help others. After watching a few more floggings, mainly for boys' education, we head towards the village. "School be very busy when rites on, best time to learn." The boys run off ahead.
Guru welcomes me. Several naked and clothed boys are lounging around and playing games but he is not busy. Over ginger tea I mention I met Ranjan. "I remember him well, he arrived just over three months ago. He was one of the more inhibited lads we've had to deal with. He was also one of the most aggressive, always fighting, something we strongly discourage here. Fights are very rare except as play, though play here can be rough. Ranjan lost his family in the communal violence so prevalent in his country and survived the harsh life of refugee camps. But he responded rapidly to our program and became a star pupil and we let him try out at the Bamboo Grove two months ago."
"I was buddy to Ranjan," Chi exclaims. "Ranjan good, man like to whip him, man take him to fuck hut after, give big bonus. Him very happy."
"He was almost fourteen and anxious to pledge. After his success at the Bamboo Grove and subjecting him to a number of 'special trips', and I've developed some challenging ones over the years, we felt he was ready. He's dedicated and eager to please and prove himself. And Chi tells me he's found a sponsor on his first attempt." I mention that I've met the sponsor and ask him more about the program. Guru smiles. "One might call it a multi-dimensional, multimedia approach with 'hands on' opportunities, but essentially it's sex, sex and more sex with pain appreciation lessons thrown in. Sex is the best therapy for overcoming the suffering, hardship and trauma they've experienced. It builds their self confidence. But they must be gently eased in, they must be enticed, seduced into it. We start by exposing them to the casual nudity of other boys as you saw yesterday, and letting them examine the anatomical displays. Then they see other boys engaged in light, good natured sex play. We also encourage affection, some readily take to kissing which helps prepare them for sucking. We also encourage mild spanking so that they become familiar with measured pain. We try to produce well rounded boys. Fucking usually, but not always, comes later. We try to make sex fun. They see others enjoying it and some of our young assistants can be very seductive. And when they come to be fucked, Chi who is very understanding and gentle, and possesses a long but skinny cock, is one of our best instructors. We also have some videos and books, kiddie porn I suppose, but the boys seldom look at it. Live performances are much better, but videos, which permit private study may benefit those who are very withdrawn. Unfortunately good material with boys their age is becoming difficult to obtain. We encourage whatever it takes to get the hormones working – they're our best ally. The Council of Cutlings is strongly opposed to making our own videos although many boys would be willing. The ban on cameras must remain total. In any case I believe a hands on approach works best." Guru smiles at his contrived entendre. "Hands on is not as difficult as lips on, most new boys need to be sucked a lot before they're able to do it properly." Tuning to Chi Guru asks, "How much time do you spend sucking new boys?" Chi ponders and replies, "Maybe an hour, two when there lots of new boys, but I like to do." Such dedication, I want Chi even more. Idealism is like a condiment that enhances the flavour of the meat you flog. "When they get into sucking some boys go crazy and try to see how many they can blow in a day. One boy claimed over thirty but we discourage keeping records as that distracts them from the main purpose of the program."
We hear people coming up the steps. "That must be Taruna and Kalla, I sent them to the market to buy a big papaya. Taruna is still not talking but a while back we had a boy who never said a word although he completely got into sex. Then one day when he was extremely horny and frustrated, he went up a friend and demanded, 'Fuck me, fuck me.' And he's talked ever since." The two youngsters go off to a side room before the newcomers enter. Kalla brings the papaya over to us while Taruna sits down on a cot. I notice that they are both wearing light shorts and shirts instead of the heavy clothes they had on the day before. As Guru slices the papaya Chi fetches limes to squeeze on the pieces. Guru asks Taruna, "Do you like papaya?" explaining to me that papaya sounds very similar to penis in their language. Taruna blushes and turns away but when Kalla takes a piece over to him he accepts it. Apparently hearing about the papaya the two naked boys, both in a state of arousal, come out of a side room to claim pieces and giggle and tease each other as they messily eat. I notice both Taruna and Kalla looking sideways at their boners. One of them spreads his knees asks if they like "paiya". Taruna pretends not to notice but Kalla, sensing a joke, laughs. One of the boys gets up and stands in front Kalla offering him his rod. Chi bends over to admire the boy's hardon and praises him. Then Kalla momentarily touches it but quickly goes to get more papaya. Chi notices a bulge in Kalla's shorts and asks if he can see his paiya. Kalla looks around, everyone is looking at him expectantly, and after hesitating he opens his fly. Chi looks closely, appears impressed and tells the others that Kalla has a nice paiya. The two youngsters and Alade also bend down to take a look and compliment him. They all say, "Kalla has nice paiya" and the boy looks pleased. Then Chi approaches Taruna and asks "Taruna nice paiya too?" But he just covers his face. Chi asks Kalla what he thinks about the paiyas of the two youngsters who make a point of proudly showing him theirs and inviting him to touch. Kalla gingerly fingers them and says he likes their paiyas. The boys thank him and return to the side room. "I think he may be starting to be proud of something he was taught to feel shameful about." Guru remarks. "A successful lesson. Soon he'll be fondling others and allowing himself to be touched. Then he may help Taruna become more receptive to sex."
To end the session Chi brings out an electronic Brick game and starts playing with Kalla on a cot. After a minute Taruna joins and soon all three of them are animatedly involved in the game. "We try to keep the lessons fairly short, they've probably had enough sex education for a while… Come, I'll show you our group therapy room." Over the door to the side room I notice a sign in several languages and scripts, I read: STUDENTS LOUNGE – MEMBERS ONLY. "Taruna and Kalla are not yet members but admission to the lounge provides an incentive. Some might call it an orgy room. The boys furnished and decorated it themselves." In the dim light I notice a long sofa with a boy dozing on it, an ornate loveseat with richly carved legs with a couple of swarthy boys cuddling in what looks like post coital bliss, a fanciful bamboo and rattan throne chair, a huge bed where the two youngsters I saw earlier are lazily entwined and a large open stall in a far corner with water barrels for dipper baths. Colourful murals in the careful but crude style of sex crazed boys cover the walls with images of adolescent lust. Over the bed streamers made of tied and twisted bright plastic wrappings creates a tent like canopy. Hung on a panel I see several small straps, whips and paddles. "We encourage mild spankings so students may learn to associate pain with the pleasures of sex, a very useful association here in Dar Lan. Our mid month sex torture workshop for newcomers is very popular." Alade strips off his clothes and asks the two youngsters if he can have sex with them. "Alade make cum already three times today." Chi comments, "Each time different boy." Guru is pleased, "Good, I'm glad to hear that Chi." And then he explains, "Once they get involved in sex, even the little ones of eight or nine, their condition improves remarkably. They want it, a dozen times a day is not unusual. While they may develop pair bonds, initially we encourage promiscuity, multiple partners and what some would call orgies but which we regard as group therapy. We discourage solitary masturbation. I doubt if many boys ever try it, or feel tempted to, and there is certainly no need. We do not allow girls or women in the program, they are for boys to discover on their own time as it should be. Almost all of our students become what is called heterosexual by the time they mature. We teach them that females are very different which gives them an aura of mystery. They are to be given the utmost respect and treated with great tenderness, and that sex with them, unlike with other males, is a strictly private matter. Torture is a male preserve to be guarded zealously and the deliberate infliction of pain on a female is a betrayal of their masculine values and pride. Interestingly, in recent years there have been requests by women to come here to whip boys, and even girls. I have never seen the Council so outraged as when the question came up." The two youngsters have doused Alade with dippers of water and are thoroughly lathering his body with soap. His blissful indulgent face and passive stance suggest he's enjoying all the attention. His long dark cock is not neglected. "Many of these boys have been abandoned and betrayed, their sense of worth destroyed. I can't overemphasize sex, frequent, indulgent and mutual sex as the key to rebuilding their capacity for trust and their self esteem. It takes time and patience, and especially the support of their peers. Coercion and force must be strictly avoided, rape is our greatest taboo." It's not long before Alade has another orgasm. The youngsters whoop and cheer, embrace him and kiss his cheeks. We quietly applaud. "Approval is still very important at this stage. Last month when he had his first ejaculation the boys had a party for him with Pepsis and Cheezies, their favourites." We return to the main room.
Kalla and Taruna have become bored with the Brick game. "Boredom is the chief enemy of education." Guru observes. Chi whispers something to Guru and returns with a small strap. Guru calls Kalla over to the table, and with an ESL book picture book he begins an English lesson having the boy review what he's already studied. Chi sits beside Taruna and shows him the strap not much bigger than a foot ruler. Mainly by gestures he indicates that he wants Taruna to spank him. Taruna hesitates, he seems to be thinking, but finally with Chi's encouragement he smacks him a few times on the seat of his shorts. In words and gestures Chi announces it's his turn and they reverse roles. After a couple of turns where the strokes become heavier Chi pulls his shorts down just exposing his buttocks. "More good." He explains. Taruna more modestly at his turn does the same at his turn. After a few more turns each Chi rubs his ass and says, "Bum sore. Much sore." and grins at Taruna. "Taruna sore?" The dark boy also rubs his ass and nods. Chi who's noticed Taruna's arousal points to the bulge in his own shorts and says, "Bum sore, paiya hard." Taruna merely rubs his ass. Chi starts chanting, "Bum sore, paiya hard, bum sore, paiya hard, bum sore paiya hard." alternately patting his ass and crotch and making it into a sort of dance. He takes Taruna's hand and the newcomer starts copy the movements. Guru meanwhile has put on a tape and the dancing becomes more energetic. Guru and I begin clapping in time. Then Chi starts rapidly pulling his shorts up and down and the newcomer copies him again. The dance continues and after a while the shorts remain down and Chi starts fondling his own cock and touches it to Karuna's in a sparring game, and at the end of the tape the two boys hug rubbing their cocks together. We enthusiastically applaud. They pull up their shorts and finish the papaya. Kalla has watched the scene intently and talks in their own language to Taruna who listens and nods but does not reply. The two youngsters and Alade come back. The hairy wolf boy boasts that he had another orgasm and gave one with his mouth. "Good blow job!" the boy says. Chi gives Alade a hug and a kiss and waltzes him around. This calls for a minor celebration, "A toast." Chi says, and he brings out some warm Pepsis for the boys, "To blow jobs!" He rubs his cock as he takes a drink and the others follow suit. I tell Guru that I am very impressed with their program. He replies, "Alade's learning quickly, he likes sex. Younger boys are better for introducing newcomers to sex, but their basic education's not complete until they're sucking and getting fucked by older boys, and enjoying it. Chi, with his sympathetic manner and long skinny cock, is a master teacher. I don't know what I'd do without him."
At last I get a chance to bring up the subject of Ranjan's unhappiness with his sponsor. "This is very unusual. The boys certainly expect sex with their sponsors, in fact we suggest that they have sex before deciding to pledge. Do you know if Ranjan followed the proper procedure, did he get his balls squeezed? We frequently have guests who merely want to flog and torture boys with no interest in sex or more intimate relationships, but never as sponsors. From what you say I suspect there has been a misunderstanding. Ranjan's not too wise in the ways of Dar Lan and may have simply been too eager. He'll know better in the future." I thank Guru and as I'm leaving I see Chi lying back on a cot with the other boys watching Kalla and Taruna take turns jacking his lovely slender boner. I hear excited cheers as I go down the stairs and assume they've made Chi ejaculate.
I hurry back to my hut but I doubt if I'll have enough time before dinner for the cruel caning I've planned for Ling's thighs. I may be late as it is, and he'll probably want to take it easy for a while after. On the other hand it would give him some new marks to display to his friends. It's six of one and more than a dozen of the other. It's been a most interesting day and I can't get Chi out of my mind. What should I do to him, I don't want to flog him at my hut because of beloved's jealousy, so subject the limitations of the Mango Tree what shall I do? What can you do anyway when you want more than a playful romp, more than kissing and tender loving, more than whipping and sadistic torture? Possibilities are finite. You can't become him or switch places with him. He can't be a son though perhaps a disciple. I want to do everything and more with Chi, and we have a date tomorrow.
After we have dinner at the Longhouse where I advise Ling not to eat too much because of his upcoming torture Jojo insists we stop by the Mango Tree. I tell we haven't got enough time but he complains that he hasn't flogged anyone today and sulks, and says I'm unfair. I'm not about to offer him his lover's lovely thighs which I've looking forward to abusing since I arrived. I compromise by giving him enough money to amuse himself at the Bamboo Grove but tell him he'll miss out on Ling's torment. Alone with Ling in my hut I have him stand on the table while I examine his slender thighs. They've largely recovered from his initiation and the softer insides are only slightly marked. I explore the muscle tissues and estimate how much bruising they can take without actively impairing him. "What thing you use?" he wants to know. I was thinking of a cane but on second thought a sturdy strap might be better, while it would be more likely to cut it would not bruise as deeply as the cane. I show him the strap and tell him that by the time I'm finished he'll have legs in Technicolor. It will be more of a test for him without Jojo here for support. I ask him if he's ready and have him stand legs apart, he'll have to maintain his balance. I start with the backs and the sides of his legs giving his small already inflamed calves their share. I can see that it's taking him considerable effort to not flinch or cry. After getting them blazing with a show of blood I tell him how pleased I am with him and offer him some juice before I continue. He doesn't want any. I tell him it's up to him. He would however like to be sucked and I gently oblige. Then I have him lie back on the bed to work on the insides. I soon have him struggling to control himself as his suffering becomes acute. His face is contorted, his hands are clenched and shaking and his whole body trembles. I am thoroughly enjoying myself and continue lay on the strap until I feel he can handle no more. Again I express my gratitude at his performance and he attempts to be nice. I let him rest for a few minutes before I fuck him while he's still sticky with blood and sweat. Then I help him into the shower, sponge him off and rinse him. I carry him back to the bed and give him a big kiss. Half an hour later he's able to move around, albeit painfully, and has a light snack.
Jojo's gone longer than I expected and his mood has only slightly improved. To cheer him up I ask him to guess what Ling's next torture will be. He ponders, looks at Ling who's fallen asleep and grins, "His balls?" I congratulate him for being right first guess and his face brightens. I gently wake up my pledgling and whisper in his ear that it's time to have his beans bruised. He rolls over as if to go back to sleep and only a good squeeze gets him to sit up. He's not keen on the idea, few boys are, but it's part of the deal. I tell him that he should think of ball torture as a unique challenge. I dearly love the spongy feel of boys' balls between my thumb and bent index finger and watching their reaction as I squeeze. How prescient of nature to make these delightfully pain sensitive organs so easily accessible. Jojo has an idea and suggests, "You hurt, I fuck, OK?" Jojo is such an imaginative sadist. He has Ling sit legs spread painfully impaled on his lap. I start by sucking Ling hard and gently massaging his balls, gradually increasing the pressure. The triple stimulation soon becomes too much for my darling pledgling and his titi goes soft. Oh well, perhaps I was expecting too much. Jojo complains that he doesn't feel anything special yet and it's not until I really crunch down getting Ling squirming does Jojo seem satisfied. Jojo starts pinching and twisting his lover's sore nipples and kissing his neck. Ling struggles and squeals, his breathing becomes erratic and I squeeze harder, such beautiful agony. Then Jojo moans announcing his climax and it's over. It will be a while before Ling's his usual self. I share some chocolate liqueur with the boys and we cuddle and listen to music. Later I fuck Jojo.
I wake up to the motions of Jojo screwing Ling, cuddling him from behind, beside me on the bed. I sit up as they're always interesting to observe. Both have their eyes closed. Jojo's unusually affectionate, slobbering kisses on Ling's ear and neck and stroking his head. Ling has the fingertips of his other hand between his teeth, a feed back arrangement. I watch Jojo's perfect body slowly, gracefully undulate, muscles working beneath his clear unblemished golden skin. His well welted little lover is awkward by comparison. The rings must be really hurting his sore ass but he's trying his best to make Jojo's last fuck for a while a good one. Gradually Ling's face relaxes, he sucks instead of biting the fingers and his tiny rod becomes erect. I think he must be getting a measure of his pain. They are drawing it out, making it last. When I'm out of the shower Jojo, now on top is climaxing loudly. They both look sated. "Rings very good for fucking, maybe I keep." Jojo teases. They pull me down on the bed and four hands and two mouths soon leave me sated too.
After breakfast the cutlings to be, dressed in their red whiplings robes for the last time, gather at the rear of the Longhouse. Then, in most cases accompanied by their sponsors they parade up and down the length of the building nodding and waving to their friends. It's a very informal affair. Jojo and I are near the end behind a portly Spanish man and a handsome pale skinned Palestinian lad whom I'd chanced to see exposed earlier and was sure he was already circumcized. I mentioned it to Jojo. "You see." He dismisses my concern curtly.
Out back in the acacia grove preparations are being made to use the old Ulongi stone knife. A slender African boy examines the blade and lightly tests on his stretched out skin. We catch up Ali and Sammy, both Ling and Jojo are keen to see his immense member trimmed as are about two dozen other boys and several guests. I mention the already circumcized boy to Ali. "It's not all that uncommon and I understand they're getting more these days; Muslim boys who were snipped in middle childhood and others who were circumcized just after birth. Fortunately there's not many Jewish or American boys, at least not yet. The Council makes certain allowances so these boys can profit from the occasion." Jojo tugs at my arm and points to where the Spaniard and his pre-cut boy are sitting straddling a log, the man holding him from behind. The boy looks very apprehensive. A buddy nooses his glans and stretches out his cock. Another buddy jabs the point of a pair of scissors under the skin and slowly begins snipping around just in front of his original circumcision scar. The boy remains grimly rigid with three more buddies holding him. When the cutting around is complete the man takes some orange powder and works it into the bleeding incision causing the boy to struggle violently and scream. "Salt and chili would be my guess." Ali comments. "The man gets ten minutes, I believe." Three buddies have difficulty holding the desperate boy as the man starts jacking the bleeding cock and the boy writhes and screams. Jojo looks at me snugly, "Like pepper not allowed when boy just cut. Now you see?" I remind him his turn is coming very soon. And I have an idea for my pledgling's next torture. The boy is profusely sweating and exhausted at the end but recovers soon after the wound is rinsed and manages to shake the Spaniard's hand.
Ali has selected a sunny spot half way down the slope at the back of the Longhouse and has Sammy sit on a stump about four feet high. A crowd of almost fifty curious boys gather around, many obviously aroused and playing with themselves. Playful grabbing and joking help to reduce their tension. Ali studies the textures of the skin on Sammy's semi hard cock. There are a number of perceptible scars from the many times his magnificent member has been tortured. Sammy relates how some of them were acquired. Ali says that they will give the leather a certain patina as he marks out with a felt pen two incision lines girdling the shaft, the first an inch behind the knob and the other about three inches back with a third along the urethra connecting them. "As you can see I will be removing a substantial amount of skin. I had thought of having it tattooed first as an embellishment, but Sammy didn't like the idea." Sammy looks around confidently. Ali takes a scalpel out of a black case. "Ready?" Sammy nods, spreads his knees farther apart and braces himself. Ali pinches up the skin and inserts the inserts the sharp point under the rear incision line and deftly cuts around the shaft being careful to avoid the bulging veins. Sammy has no problem keeping his huge member erect. Jojo holds his friend's hand and becomes so intent on the operation that he lacks his usual hardon. Sammy remains stoical and there is surprisingly little blood. After the final cut along the urethra line Ali carefully peels the rectangle of skin off Sammy's shaft, exposing the bright glistening flesh beneath, and hands it to me to examine. Stretched and tanned it might make change purse and I could see why Ali wanted to have it tattooed first. Then Jojo grabs it and rubbing it over his lips calls out, "Hey Sammy, I give you blow job." And laughs at his own joke. Sammy stares at his flayed, now flaccid cock looking a bit woozy. An older cutling helps Ali put on some temporary sutures, not an easy job on the now shriveled organ. "That scare me almost as much as the ant test." Sammy says bravely, "I think pain just starting." Ali seems pleased and placing an arm around Sammy's shoulder and holding up the skin he exclaims, "This will remind me of you always. I thank you." And he kisses the boy's forehead. Jojo confides to me, "Sammy very rich, he always get much money because big titi and he save plenty."
Followed by at least twenty excited chattering boys we make our way around to a small clearing between the great root buttresses of a giant satinwood tree. Ferns and vines enclose the other side and swarms of butterflies play in the shafts of sunlight. Brilliant birds flying through the canopy above and the occasional orchid add more specks of colour to the idyllic forest setting. Jojo stands quietly and looks around when I tell him this is the place. He smiles softly at me as I place a few flowers in his hair and slip off his shorts. I send Ling back to my nearby hut to bring me my tool bag while I select eight boys to help me. I lay out a sheet and a pillow in the middle of the clearing for Jojo to lie on. After kissing my beloved on the forehead I pass out eight lengths of twine to the helpers and have each tie one end through one of the eight rings still encircling his foreskin. Jojo's tense with anticipation and his cock is extremely rigid. The eight helpers squat in a circle around him, legs folded beneath them, and begin tugging on the twine. I let them practise 'til they get the knack of working together but soon they have his foreskin stretched out into an even octagonal collar below his knob. Jojo feigning nonchalance chats with his friends in the audience. I explain to Ling what we are going to do. Having had his own little prick pinched, pierced and stretched unmercilessly he's eager to assist. I have the helpers pull harder, jerking in unison and I'm sure it's becoming quite painful although hardly a severe test. Jojo, quiet now, continues to affect indifference. I take out my mother of pearl penknife and make tiny nicks between the rings and have the helpers who seem to enjoy their work pull and jerk. The crowd is starting to build with more boys and several guests leaning against and sitting on the huge root buttresses with more standing and squatting behind me. I notice several boys slowly masturbating. Ling and I alternating gradually deepen the nicks and each ring stretches out a petal of skin from his still rigid shaft. The helpers pull with much of their strength tearing the skin between the rings and drops of bright red blood form and drip down on Jojo's tight patch of black pubic hair. The tearing must be extremely painful but Jojo appears serene as if he is meditating on the awful pain and enjoying it. He's absolutely magnificent although I doubt if he is enjoying it. I have to deepen a couple of nicks to keep the lengthening petals symmetrical. Once I have to caution a helper to be careful as I don't want any of the petals ripped off. We slowly continue the procedure until the petals are almost an inch long. I think it would be interesting to leave Jojo as is with his own built in french tickler. Jojo's dripping with perspiration and his expression becomes tense as if he's struggling to control himself. Now the difficult part begins. I have the helpers maintain a constant pull and wrap protective tape around his shaft below the petal collar. Then working from the top I begin cutting around the base of his foreskin inside the petals. Severing the ring of skin from the shaft is exacting work and I proceed slowly. Jojo now obviously in agony still manages to prop himself up in order to watch. Finally his flaccid cock falls free and the petaled ring of skin floats in front of his eyes. He curiously touches it but his ordeal has drained his considerable fortitude and he lies back breathing heavily. I quickly apply temporary sutures and he is soon up and about putting on a show of bravado. A few boys congratulate me on my work. I tell them that Jojo should get at least some of the credit. After a brief rest and a Pepsi he goes off with friends to meet the other new cutlings at the Longhouse and have his titi treated.
Alone with Ling in my hut I tell him it's torture time again. I am pleased to see that aside from my recent efforts on his legs, his body, though still marked from his initiation, has basically healed and he's ready for a full body flogging. I may have to be careful with his left nipple and his buttocks which still have a couple of raw spots. But Ling senses my concern about the state of his ass, thrusts it out and says, "OK, you like spank more." How sweet, and I'm glad he's got his confidence back after what we've put him through. I have a very thin whip that is ideal for his lightly padded ribcage and back. It will sting smartly and produce impressive visual results which boys appreciate but there will be hardly any bruising and the pain rapidly dissipates. Ling remains cheerful as I tie cords around his wrists and big toes and explain that I plan to suspend him from the beam in the middle of the room and tie his big toes down to the split bamboo floor. He's light enough to hang by his thumbs, it would add to his ordeal, but it could be risky. I tell Ling how much I will enjoy whipping him, kiss him affectionately and fondle his titi. It's still a bit sore, some blotches, but it's not bruised and he makes happy sounds as I suck him until he quivers. "You see, I be good pledge." I'm just about to suspend him when there's a knock at the door. I hear the brigadier's hesitant voice asking to speak to me and I invite him in. When he sees Ling naked with a semi hardon he says, "I didn't mean to disturb you." I assure him he isn't. "I just want to apologize for my rudeness earlier and…" he seems at a loss for words. Ling shows him my special whip, "Special for me because not much muscle, do chest good and belly." He then starts a show and tell about the punctures and bruises on his cock but I interrupt and gesture that he cool it. I offer the brigadier a beer. "I suppose I could. Please. One really needs something in this climate… Mind if I smoke?" The cigarette and beer help him relax. "I gave Ranjan a thorough thrashing but it didn't work out as I hoped. I could not make the boy understand what I wanted. First he wanted to take everything off and I had to explain that it wasn't proper. It was difficult to get through to him and he kept looking at me in a strange way, and once he started talking like a whore. I wanted to punish him, but I was already beating him. I beat him as much as I dared, he is a stout lad indeed, but when I was finished it was as if he expected something more. I tried being kind to him and offered him tea and some candies. I was hoping by showing him kindness after, and maybe receiving some sign of forgiveness I could resolve some of my inner conflicts. And he's been quite unhappy since. I might have expected it but your pledge seems so cheerful, and you've obviously given him a good thrashing, and there's whatever you've done to his privates." I explain to him that torturing a boy is a kind of relationship. I bring up the intense longing that he had mentioned and add that the boy has needs too. "Well perhaps, but I never thought of it as anything carnal." I ask him if he could have feelings and longings for youths fated to be killed, then here in Dar Lan, he can give expression to those longings and feelings with willing boys. Here torture is not a matter of duty to some authority, but for gratification and joy even, and for the boy it's a challenge, a matter of pride and money. The sponsor should expand his horizons of fortitude and self knowledge. Children also benefit. "You don't mean small children like you see at that Bamboo Grove place? Perhaps spankings for misdeeds but…" I explain that even boys of seven and eight are capable of fortitude, and why should they be denied, and incidentally as you may have noticed, they may also find arousal. The brigadier looks confused. I tell him that the boys have their own expectations, and that they Do run the place. Sponsorship is a complex relationship. In addition to the financial emoluments the man has certain obligations, duties in fact, to the boy.
Ling is getting impatient, "When are you gonna whip me?"
I apologize to my pledgling and suspend him from nails in the beam and tie his toes down. "What exactly do you mean by duties?" the brigadier demands. I ask him if he'd like to watch my pledgling's whipping and he says yes. Turning to Ling I ask him if he'd like some background music. "No, make you whip too hard." he grins and then asks, "You suck me first?" I have some reservations with the brigadier present but then Ling adds, "Please." I didn't know he had the word in his vocabulary and tell him certainly. The brigadier is aghast but makes no move to leave. I suck him briefly getting him, and then swing the whip back. CRACK A bright weal forms across his puny chest superimposed over his fading marks from the Mango Tree. I continue lashing his chest loudly reopening the cut on his left nipple and getting a smudge of blood. I tell him it looks pretty. "I knowed you do that." Ling tells me. I ask the brigadier what he thinks of the welts. "Well the effects are quite striking." And he adds, "I only ever used a truncheon, and of course now, a hose. I didn't like drawing blood. It was messy." Ling has gone soft so I suck him hard again, give him a kiss and then work down his front getting a few minor shows of blood where strokes overlap or cut into the soft sides of his ribs. Ling gasps with each lash but he remains calm and almost cheerful bravely putting on a show for the brigadier who lights another cigarette. I refer back to the conversation where he said he was seeking some explanation or expatiation for his past. The brigadier looks at me questioningly as I lay a flurry of stinging strokes across Ling's soft belly. I ask him if he'd like to try his hand with the thin whip. "OK you try." Ling assures him, but as I expected he declines. I suggest to the brigadier that perhaps only through carnal knowing as well might he find what he seeks. "You mean I should bugger Ranjan?" I reply to the effect of whatever, but that whatever he does he should do it with concern and affection for the boy. I add that Ranjan expects and has been trained for such exigencies. Ling is performing beautifully, I think he understands the jist of what I'm saying. I ask him if I can give him a couple a couple of special ones. He nods and bravely manages an OK. I tell the brigadier to watch closely and I flick the whip at Lings genital's catching his balls with a loud snap. He squeals and flinches for the first time. I explain that I gave my pledgling's testicles a heavy squeezing earlier, one of my favourite tortures for young boys, which has left them rather tender. The brigadier is dumbfounded. Ling controls himself better on the second flick which raises a weal on his cock. I promptly untie him, pick him up and hug him getting blood smeared on my white shirt. He hugs me back and we kiss lips to lips and lick each others faces. I inform the brigadier that we want to be alone and he leaves without a word. It's a long and gentle, but painful fuck with lots of slobbery kisses and then I carefully suck him until he shivers to a dry climax.
Jojo climbs up the steps, not his usual bounce, and sits on the bed his legs spread wide beneath the loose sarong he's wearing. He looks despondent, the worst I've seen him, but it's to be expected. "It's not good pain, hurts when run." I explain that circumcision, at least the way I did him stretching the surrounding flesh, is quite an ordeal not like piercing and twisting. I tell Jojo about the brigadier and Ranjan hoping to cheer him up. "So? I just hear him whipping Ranjan now, I think weirdo beat too much."
I become concerned thinking the brigadier may have taken my remarks the wrong way. I sneak around to the side of his hut and listen. He is sobbing, "Oh Ranjan, you brave noble lad, I've beaten you too much, there's blood all over you, but I had to try a whip. Ranjan, my dear little Ranjan, I love you." And he sobs and sobs. "Why you no sex me?" There are sounds I can't identify and I hear the brigadier asking, "Would you like that?" I'm in no hurry to return to my hut and listen to sounds that I assume I are those of fucking, and I others where Ranjan grunts and squeals. "Ranjan, I don't know how to thank you, you're… I love you so much." It becomes quiet, I assume they must be cuddling or something and then the door opens near me. Quickly and quietly I make my way around the back and pass in front as if I am returning to my hut. Brigadier Ratnasinghe calls out, "Hello there, I was just thinking about you. I haven't had you over for tea yet. I'm just putting the kettle on and why don't you bring your young pledge who showed such commendable fortitude earlier". I graciously accept, not sure I really want to.
Jojo's lying back on the bed listening to music and is not interested in the news about Ranjan. Ling's happy to join me but refuses to wear anything because of the raw welts on his belly. The brigadier welcomes us effusively. Ranjan's naked and although he sports new stripes over his bruises he seems relatively happy. Ratnasinghe pours tea apologizing for the plastic cups. He mentions it's the special high grown variety he told me about. "It's usually only available in blends." Ling makes it clear he's not interested in tea. "Ranjan dear, would you please see if there's any soft drinks in the refrigerator for our young guest?" When he returns with a couple of 7-Ups the brigadier puts and arm around his shoulder. "My little Ranjan has been such a help, haven't you?" he smiles dotingly at the boy. "I'll never want to beat a boy again, I don't know how to thank him." And he thanks me and Ling too. Ranjan hugs his sponsor's chest and makes kissy lips. "Why Ranjan… Why not." And they kiss. The boy complains about the tobacco smell of his moustache and the brigadier apologizes even promising to shave it off. Ling wants to kiss too and I oblige and fondle his hardon for the benefit of the others. My pledgling squirms appreciatively and Ratnasinghe, not to be out done is soon giving Ranjan the same attention. While we discuss the affairs of the world the boys talk about their tortures, Ling notices that Ranjan's genitals are completely unscathed, "Why don't sponsor do you there?" He doesn't know. "Not good when sponsor just beat." Ranjan says, "Mr. Ratna OK now, we do sex." Jojo congratulates him, "Good. Special trips good too." I tell the brigadier I've never tasted such fine tea and thank him for his hospitality. Ling politely thanks him too and winking at Ranjan says, "I think we go do special trip, maybe more on titi."
Jojo's asleep when we return and I won't disturb him, I'm tired myself. But I mustn't forget to torture Ling. I'm not sure what agony to put him through next. I lie down to think and Ling crawls in beside me and is almost immediately blissfully asleep. He's been such a good pledgling, especially when I was whipping him in front of the brigadier. Ranjan should be grateful. I am starting to run low on opportunities to abuse his lovely delicate body. His sweet little mounded bottom is not in condition to accept a good thrashing. And I don't holding back that much. Then except for its recent nick his titi is almost back to normal. I can still see all the puncture marks but the general swelling and inflammation of his snug prepuce is gone. For all the fun it provided Jojo and I, just yesterday, the lingering effects are minimal. That's one of the nice things about cock torture. And I find a little subtle stimulation suggests his tool is as functional as any eleven year old's. He stirs, opens his eyes and wants to know, "What you do? You want now?" I tell him I want to suck his titi. He shakes his head. I try anyway but he pushes my head away. "No suck. Torture only." Then we accidentally wake up Jojo, not his cheerful self. I hint at more fun with Ling's titi after dinner but he's not interested, I'll have to do it all myself. I start by helping Ling shower and comb his hair as it still hurts the little darling to raise his arms high. I find a sarong which will be less chafing than his shorts and drape it over him.
The three of us stroll up to the Longhouse. Ali is sitting near the entrance with Sammy and two freshly lacerated lads. He invites us to join him and Ali congratulates my pledgling, "That's a dramatic display on your chest young man. I would be pleased to give some of my own etchings sometime." "You most welcome Mr. Ali. I like." A waiter dressed in a sheer monks habit that reveals deep real or cosmetic lacerations on his back and buttocks takes our order. However I much prefer the busboys dressed in choirboy frocks which stop at their hips exposing well spanked or rouged bums. Ali mentions, "I'm having a little party for Sammy and the boys I've flogged, about twenty I think, and after they've promised to hang me by the ankles and have some sport of their own. It's been months since I've enjoyed a good thrashing." You're welcome to stop by, I'll have a couple of whipping boys available as a courtesy for the guests, an old Roman custom." I'm not sure if I can make it.
I'm about to leave when Chi comes up to me. "You promise to whip me, sir." I'm surprised I'd forgotten all about it as I can't think of a more appetizing boy to whip. I don't think Jojo and Ling are up to treats at the Mango Tree anyway, which is good as I prefer to flog the dedicated lad without them around. We'll meet later at my hut. Following Chi down the path I once again become entranced by this remarkable boy. So polite, thoughtful, helpful, and such a handsome body with beautiful skin. Flogging and fucking him seems somehow inadequate. I want more, but what? I tie his wrists up loosely to one of the great tree's low spreading branches and kneel in front of him to remove his sarong. A mere touch stiffens his long slender cock which has helped educate dozens of assholes. I look at him and contemplate his perfection, and then inspired, and to the astonishment of the bystanders, I start whipping him with his sarong. I energetically flail and caress him with the breezes it creates. I kiss his forehead and untie him finding myself satisfied. And he is more than satisfied with my generousity.
The boys are playing cards on the bed when I get back and Jojo's in much better spirits. I inform them that I am going to give Ling a spanking. My announcement draws no reaction. When I repeat my intentions Jojo protests that they are in the middle of a game. I tell them that I am prepared to wait and open a beer. Then Ling suggests that I spank him while he's playing and adjusts his position so his bum sticks up. I explain that spanking him won't be as much fun for me if he's concentrating on his card game, it would be quite rude in fact and I tell him so. I decide a good old fashioned, over the knee, hand spanking is what I want, the flesh on flesh aspect appeals to me. It's some time later, after Ling has scored some sort of coup that I get to turn him over my lap. His pre-bruised bottom is not pretty, I much prefer pristine globes, but then I have no one but myself to blame for that. I have to ask him nicely to be quiet and not talk during his spanking as it's distracting. I leisurely spank away reddening the pale parts between the bluish bruises. Then I lay him on the bed and whisper in his ear that it's time for Titi Torture Two. He doesn't seem too happy about that. I tell him that torturing young boys' titis makes me very happy and remind him of the terms of our agreement. "More needles?" And hooks and other things with lots of twisting I tell him. And I tell Jojo, the responsible young lad he is, that he is to be the designated torturer. His face brightens and looks thoughtful. I find a certain poignancy in the idea of him torturing his lover's penis. I will have Ling sit, impaled, on my lap and he gingerly eases himself down. I kiss his neck and lick around his ears. I can also restrain him if necessary and offer a third hand if required. I can also torment his only slightly tender right nipple. It's a perfect position and I hold him snugly against my chest as Jojo diligently goes to work. His titi has largely recovered from its earlier abuse, boys his age heal rapidly, and we don't need to confine our efforts to those parts normally covered by the prepuce as before. Jojo begins by pinching and twisting the loose skin digging his thumbnail in. We both kiss him affectionately while the torment continues. It isn't until Jojo starts using the hooks, twisting and jerking the skin do I feel any appreciable contractions in his bowels. I smother Ling's neck with kisses and twist his nipple which is starting to swell. I have Jojo insert a long pin through the nipple so I can continue the torture with less effort. Jojo starts inserting the blue headed pins and I am surprised how meticulous, even artistic he is as he creates a swirling pattern of hat pins around Ling's untouched glans with rows of clips dangling from his skinny shaft. Then he jacks him vigorously straining every clip and piercing as Ling struggles and squeals. Ling is in acute agony and his desperate sweaty squirmings against my chest further excites me. I close my eyes to sense Ling's suffering by his breathing, gasps, squirms, moans and internal contractions. I seem to get a very thrilling, visceral pleasure this way. The child snuffles and keens but his grit is amazing. It feels so good I can't tell Ling how happy he's making me – not now, he wouldn't understand. It may only be the thought of money, a healthy materialism that's keeping him going… I can feel blood oozing from his nipple and twist harder. But it's almost time to end the session and I help Jojo remove the pins and clips. Jojo sucks him hard again and for the finale dowses his groin with salt water. The effect is dramatic: Ling squeals and writhes, and his contractions bring me to a glorious climax. I again hold off on my gratitude. I tell him no more needles, he's going to get his titi spanked. "How spank?" I figure the lightest strap provided in the hut, about the size of a school ruler, would make a good peckerspanker. I tell him it could make his titi swell up big like a teenagers and turn interesting colours and match his other bruises. I don't ask him if he'd like that though. Jojo perks up at the idea of cock spanking and I tell him he can help by keeping Ling's titi vertical. Careful of his own tender parts he lies beside Ling and holds the base of his unsteady organ. I begin gently slapping the stiffening cock alternating top and bottom providing as much stimulation as pain. I keep it up for a couple of minutes gradually increasing the force of the blows until his whole shaft is deeper than pink. "You do same to Jojo?" No, I tell him, it's a special torture just for him and the worst is yet to come. I start slapping harder, Jojo has to be quick to keep the object of abuse in place and only his soothing ministrations keep Ling under control. His little titi blotches purple from the beating. My own excitement peaks as Ling begins to squirm and writhe. I stop briefly suck his engorged purpling pickle, kiss him tenderly and thank him for the pleasure he's given me. He won't be suckable for a while. We shower off together and I notice his prepuce thick with swelling and speckled with puncture marks although it still retracts easily..
I've just finished my after torture fuck when we notice the sounds of a heavy beating coming from the brigadier's hut. I don't think Ranjan could handle much more, and the brigadier said he'd never beat a boy again. I'm concerned and go out to investigate. The relentless thudding sounds of the beating continue. Then I see Ranjan leaning in the doorway and assume the brigadier has found another boy to beat. Overcoming the temptation to indulge in a torchlight flogging at the Mango Tree I return to my hut, bring out some Belgian chocolates I saved for an occasion and we play cards until late
I am awake much of the night, images of the last three days chasing through my mind as periodic thunderstorms and gusty winds with light rains sweep through Dar Lan. Jojo has a restless time before finally falling into a deep sleep. When I wake up the angle of the sunlight through the gaps in the shutters indicate it's late. Ling has an arm across my chest and his sweet face is next to mine. I kiss his lips and work my tongue into his small mouth. I gently shift him over on his back and study the ugly pattern of lacerations and bruises that I have superimposed on his slender boyish form. The swelling in his cock has started to recede but the dark blotches will remain for days. It doesn't look very appetizing. I roll him back on his belly deciding to let the boys sleep. I get up and shower, put on some music and start tidying up. Out on the porch I again hear the sounds of a heavy beating coming from the brigadier's hut and assume he has found yet another boy to flog before he leaves. I rouse the boys and start packing my bags; it takes a while for them to get out of bed. I watch them pee, they both have uncomfortable hardons, and serve them juice sitting on the bed. I tell Jojo I that he owes me a special trip and I have a special treat for him, something few if any boys have ever experienced. And I doubt if he will enjoy it. I bring out his foreskin, rings and all which I have kept moist and stretched over the neck of a Pepsi bottle. It fits quite snugly just behind my knob. He's going to be fucked with his own foreskin. Jojo crouches on all fours on the bed. Holding his balls I push myself in not too gently and begin thrusting in my beautiful beloved's ass. An interesting sensation, quite abrasive on the anal walls I suspect, and I fuck, fuck, fuck while Ling lying beside me smugly watches. "Hurts good, huh?" he says to Jojo.
The walk up to the Longhouse for breakfast is cool and refreshing but it could turn into a muggy day. There's not many people around and the meal of eggs, thosai and dahl is one of their worst. I look for the brigadier and Ali but aside from a few boys there's nobody I know. Detouring by the Mango Tree a Palestinian whipling catches my eye, a sweet baby face with long wispy sideburns and a hint of a moustache, and a proud bearing. When he notices me he smiles and poses provocatively with his snugly jeaned ass turned sideways. He looks smart in his fancy long sleeved shirt open to the waist. Calvin Klein could use him as a model. I know he'll be expensive but I want to make my own fashion statement, cane stripes on his bare flesh. He models them magnificently and I have a tasty nuzzle in his wispy crotch after.
It's time to settle my accounts with the boys and say good bye to them, I don't expect them to walk down to the boat. Ling is cheerful and gives me a long sloppy kiss and puts my hand on his crotch telling me, "It hard for you." How sweet, and I give him a few token jacks through his shorts. Jojo is more pragmatic, "You come again, lots of special trips – nice torture for you, do Ling too. Maybe be whipmate?" I make no promises. "I like you much, you very good sponsor to me. Pledging big thing. I want deal where foreigner do anything, more money that way. You want same. First time I try pledge, month before you come, Frenchman want me. Before time he cane bum very hard and fuck me plenty but no kiss or special trip, not even titi torture. I want special trip from foreigner. He want just whip and fuck, and not enough money. So I go to Bamboo Grove, meet American. He want special trip, bite nipples, make blood. I get big money. When you like me I ask big price. You squeeze balls good and I know you be good sponsor. I want very much to be good pledge. You make good job, you best torture man." I tell Jojo I'm sincerely flattered which I am. "You mix sex and torture, that good." I feel even more flattered. "I like you torture me." I tell him I'm glad the pleasure wasn't all mine, and flatter him by saying that I've never enjoyed torturing a boy as much as him. "Lots of time for more, I stay Dar Lan maybe two years. Ling special friend, but now I can fuck girl, maybe marry. I be elected to Council of Cutlings for sure. I have idea. Like too much time nothing to do. Maybe have extra days for just whipping, just Mango Tree and Bamboo Grove. Like ordinary whipping OK once a week, make more money. All boys like more whipping", he insists. I tried to explain the marketing side, that to bring in more visitors might be risky, they have to be screened carefully. "But Ky Luc company make more money too. I know man in Jakarta, I study to be businessman partner and be rich like you." I look at Jojo, he seems more a man than a boy, a very young and handsome man mind you. I've been part of his plan. It's a cruel world and I begin to cry. He hugs me like a father. "You come back, whip me, sex me plenty." I hug him tightly tears running down my cheeks. I say good bye to Jojo and Ling and go back to my hut to pick up my things.
Suddenly Ranjan bursts into my hut, "Come quick, Mr. Ratna hurt bad." I dash over to the brigadier's hut. He is slumped held up by his wrists tied to a beam. Two whiplings are beating him with hoses. "More, more." The brigadier groggily commands. I make them stop. Ranjan said he tried. The brigadier is covered with massive swollen oozing bruises. His heart may soon be no longer able to force his blood through the congested flesh and arteries. "Don't, don't." he feebly protests and loses consciousness. The whiplings leave and Ranjan and I untie him, lay him on the bed and apply cold wet towels as compresses. He comes around, "I was a boy, I was one of the boys…" Ranjan runs to the village for a paramedic who tells us that the brigadier must rest for at least for a day. The brigadier calls for Ranjan and the bruised boy lies down beside the bruised man as he cries and confesses his love and promises to bugger him again. I am at a loss as the banca leaves in half an hour.
Luckily I find Ali at the Mango Tree having a final fling flogging leftovers. He announces, "No boy should be left unflogged, they lose self respect and face with their peers, not to mention money. I've got three more left unless you'd like a turn." I decline and explain my problem with the brigadier. "No problem, we can take him in the yacht tomorrow. Poon's crew will take care of him." Later in the afternoon we carry the brigadier in a stretcher down to the yacht. He says a tearful farewell to his dear Ranjan. We find out that the brigadier had a husky cutling flog him the evening before with a heavy length of hose but the cutling had refused to go beyond a certain point despite generous incentives. He wanted to have done to him what he had done to boys as part of his job. However in the morning he had found the two other cutlings, both newcomers who knowing no better had agreed.
While the brigadier rests below Poon, Ali and I enjoy the sea breeze and tall glasses of iced coffee on the rear deck. "It was much interesting to visit Port Dar Lan after many years." Poon begins, "Forgotten was how much the sadism. I bleed plenty when I pledge, but so proud and happy. And very sad times when no tourist whip me. Ali very good man, make me to like the whipping and give me good times with the sex so I learn much.. He do all the special trips, so very much hurt, but he be kind and help me. When he cut me I think I to die. I want very much for Ali. He be nice and give me Coco-Cola and make more hurt. After I surprised I do it, but after I know I can do anything."
Ali smiles, "I still have your skin of course, a bit mangled as you recall, mounted on an ivory disk with your name and the date. I value my collection of skins more than my jewels."
I noticed a couple of teenaged boys in the crew and the older one, perhaps eighteen comes over to ask if we want more coffee. After he leaves Poon tells us he's a Dar Lan boy. The other is so he doesn't need women while he's away from his wife. "The younger one is a charmer." Ali observes. Poon becomes defensive and tells Ali the boy is not for whipping; deckhand and sleeping only. "You know Dar Lan has a better formula for success than any business school. It should be a model for the world rather than, if it were widely known, the most despised place on the planet. My business takes me to many countries, from boardrooms to ghettos and the insecure suburbs of the modestly affluent. Everywhere there is poverty, if not in the belly, then of the heart and the soul." Poon nods in agreement. "And everywhere there are unhappy men with unfulfilled yearnings, and boys unsucked, unfucked, unflogged and unloved, and shown no respect."
Then we hear Chi calling to us from the spit and the young deckhand picks him up in the dingy. Guru has heard about the demise of the brigadier and that we have to stay an extra day. He's inviting me and Ali to come to the school where we can observe the closing ceremonies of the rites, something neither of us was aware of. We walk briskly along the beach path staying out of the late afternoon sun as much as possible. I walk behind Chi fascinated by him and every movement of his perfect body. He is still unmarked and I comment on it. "Better for new boys' to practise whipping, then after they more like me whip them so they know feeling. Same with special trips at Mid Month Torture Workshop, they do me first then I do them." Lucky newcomers I think. Ali and I follow Chi up the back steps to the school. Ali has met Guru before, and they warmly embrace. Chi leaves with the two youngsters who now sport stripes from the Grove. Guru is glad to hear that the brigadier is better. "It is not uncommon for guests to want boys to flog them. The Council does not encourage it, but within moderation it is allowed." He looks at Ali who smiles sheepishly, aware that some of his welts are visible. "The boys should however know the limits because an incident like this could endanger our security which is always tenuous in this moralistic world. The whiplings concerned have been disciplined, they are banned from the Mango Tree at the next rites and no private whippings or special trips whatsoever for two months. It is regretable that such incidents happen. But with all the violence in the world it is small wonder that sexual sadism becomes perverted and twisted in destructive ways."
Loud murmurs of excitement are heard outside and Guru announces that the closing procession is underway and opens the shutters. We look out over a clutter of mostly one storey buildings and the sandy main street which widens towards the beach. Below us an eager crowd of villagers; men, women, girls and small children line the sides. Many carry buckets and dippers with them. The boys appear in informal, fluid ranks making their way leisurely towards the beach. Many of the younger boys from the Bamboo Grove run excitedly ahead, doing little impromptu dances and dart from side to side gesturing and showing off the marks on their naked bodies and getting splashed and cheered by the spectators. The first timers among them have pale green garlands of vines around their necks and get liberally dowsed. Guru comments, "The splashing is an old tradition in Dar Lan to honour and show appreciation for the boys who have brought hope and prosperity to the community." The older boys are less exhuberant, talk and joke amongst themselves. The new pledglings have garlands of sampaguitas, the new whiplings garlands of blood red hibiscus and the new cutlings sport blue headbands trimmed with orchids. People call out to the parading boys they know and cheer them. Buckets are replenished as the splashings empty them. I see a number of boys I know and have flogged and fucked. I see the tall bronze lad with sparkling eyes I flogged first, his front still raw from my efforts. Ranjan walking stiffly but proudly and Ling pass by hand in hand receiving loud cheers and showers of water. The new pledges, whiplings, whipmates and cutlings distinguished by their flowers draw the loudest cheers. Young girls stare admiringly, make comments and giggle amongst themselves. They seem especially interested in the new cutlings and Jojo smiles back flirtatiously at a cluster of them. Farther on by the beach the Committee of Elders, made up of parents and others who have chosen to stay, drape loose robes over their shoulders; white for the pledglings, red for the whiplings and blue for the cutlings. The youngsters from the Bamboo Grove receive pale green sarongs. Guru tells us that the Committee also operates a saving bank through a firm in Singapore. The boys are encouraged to save most of their earnings for their future lives outside. The procession seems endless, I see perhaps a thousand boys march past. In the early twilight I see them sit down in clusters around several beach fires. When the last boys have passed the crowd follows them down forming a large semicircle around them and begins singing something I can only interpret as a hymn. "It is a song of praise and thanksgiving." Guru informs us. We linger at the edge for a few minutes before we make our way around to the beach path as the first stars appear. We see roast oxen and pigs being carved and barbecued goat and chicken being served as well as rice and greens from huge caldrons. The boys relax while the villagers serve them. Guru says they regard it as a privilege. The boys, even the young ones, are served a mild rice wine which he says is only allowed once a month to lighten their spirits, induce camaraderie and celebrate the end of the rites. "Only here in Dar Lan are boys free to use their natural advantages for their own benefit instead of being exploited by others for a pittance. They do not face the ravages of unemployment, violence, drugs or war. Here their natural sexuality and courage are assets, not a burden. And they learn how to succeed. Our graduates are now everywhere, members of the Council make jokes about the Dar Lan mafia."
Guru and Chi leave us by the sandspit where Poon's yacht is anchored. The brigadier is looking better, his fever is down and his pulse is near normal. Poon tells us he will take us to Singapore where he has another charter waiting.
I never returned to Port Dar Lan but it's there for those who want to enjoy its delights. Make your own arrangements, bring your favourite whips and instruments of torture. The boys are still there, as young or as old as you want them to be, and ready to serve you for a price. And there are always new boys whom you can create however you like them. But remember there are strict rules in Dar Lan, quite a few of them, and remember that the boys are in charge.