THE BEZISTAN CHRONICLES
Chapter 10
The Flight into Slavery

This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years.

Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris)
An archive of my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures."

Chapter 10: The Flight into Slavery

Part 1: Luc

Bewildered by all that has happened; I peer out from my cage into the dimly lit interior of the cargo plane which is carrying me into slavery. Altogether there are twenty-three of us - each of us is locked individually into a numbered cage - and the cages are stacked three high in a single row running down the centre of the cargo cabin. My cage is placed on the middle level with cages immediately above and below my own and on either side of me. All the cages are securely fastened down to prevent injury to their miserable occupants - we are after all, valuable livestock and our new owner wouldn't want us damaged in transit

My cage allows me to kneel, to sit with my knees against my naked chest or to lie on my sides with my legs drawn up. If I become too cramped I can, with difficulty, `stand up on all fours'. However, these positions aren't very comfortable and I fear my journey is to be unbearably long and difficult. The floor of each cage consists of a deep tray filled with a granulated substance
that reminds me of `kitty litter' - its purpose is no doubt the same - to absorb our bodily wastes and to minimise the smell. My nose tells me it isn't fresh and it has been used for transporting other unfortunate prisoners before me. An unintended side effect of this material is that its softness does provide us with a cushion for lying on - that is, if one isn't too squeamish in considering it prior uses. I assume that the naked occupants of the other cages are all similarly discomforted.

This arrangement of the cages allows the two slave-handlers traveling with us to adequately observe and control us from both the front and rear of the row. These two, mean looking individuals are armed with a contraption similar to an electric cattle prod and wicked looking whips, which they gleefully threaten to use on any prisoner foolish enough to cause them any trouble. I shudder at the sight of their whips and instinctively know that the whip will soon be used to both control and discipline me.

Fortunately, upon arrival and stowage, the overseers removed our mouth gags and gave us water to drink and I have to say that water had never tasted sweeter. It was then that I realised I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the previous day.
 
I listened as my betrayer, Mike hysterically shouted abuse and obscenities at the two impassive guards when they removed his gag. I enjoyed his scream of outraged pain as one responded by using the prod on his naked body to settle him before they replaced his gag to prevent any further disruption. I truly rejoiced in his suffering and I felt satisfaction at seeing him in pain. As for the rest of us - well looking at his quivering, pain-racked body convulsing on the floor of his cage - convinced us any protest was futile. His punishment was a grim warning to us to behave. Or else suffer as Mike is suffering. 

After Mike's punishment, the only sound heard over the monotonous drone of the plane's engines was the gentle sobbing of traumatised, young men being carried into unknown and frightening futures.

I can't adequately convey my sense of shock at my sudden reversal of fortune. How long have I been locked in my cage? One day? Two days? What day is it? What time is it? Is it day or night? I don't know and this is to be the unbroken pattern of my life as a slave. I'm to learn all too quickly that any concept of time isn't of any consequence to a slave. He only knows the endless days of his slavery and what day it is, what month or even what year it is hasn't any relevance for him. All measurement of time is denied a slave - he exists only for the moment; to serve and pleasure his master. A slave only needs to know that he must ALWAYS devote his all time and energies to serving his owner. Nothing else is expected of him; indeed this is what is demanded of him.

                                                                                                            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

On my confused reckoning, this is my second night in my cage. The hunger gnawing at my belly tells me I haven't eaten for nearly two days; if this is so then this is Sunday night. Was it only last night that I'd been betrayed and rendered unconscious, only to awaken naked, shackled and gagged in a cage in the dark depths of an isolated warehouse? 

During my confinement in the warehouse, I'd overheard my captors discussing their prisoners' futures as slaves somewhere in the Middle East. My mind rebelled at the thought that slavery still exists. Surely they are mistaken? Everyone knows slavery was abolished two hundred years ago. However, I'd watched, in horror, as Mike was overpowered, stripped naked, bound and gagged and placed in a cage by his two companions. It was then that I knew, with sickening clarity, that slavery does still exist and that I am now a slave. This realisation caused me to vomit. 

My captors' conversations about the fates awaiting us still spins, incomprehensively, around in my mind. Their comments that we are to be trained as `pleasure slaves' and sold as `fuck toys' to wealthy masters fill me with terror. This can't be happening; after all I'm not gay. All my sexual activities to date have been heterosexual but I do know about homosexual practices. The very thought of another man using my body for sex is repugnant -although I had fantasised about Mike in the showers and I'd wondered `what if?'

Little do I know that, within a few days, both my mouth and ass-hole will be undergoing strict training to pleasure another man's cock and that there's nothing I can do to prevent this from happening. 

My thoughts return to the warehouse and how I and my fellow prisoners were loaded into a lorry for transportation to some isolated airstrip. One by one the cages were lifted by a forklift, driven by Craig, and carried out to a loading bay. There, other men manhandled the cages into the back of the covered lorry. To these men, we were little better than livestock undergoing transportation. 

Locked in our cages, they totally ignored us; they were dispassionate in their observations of us and obviously indifferent to our fates. These workmen carried on an animated conversation about football, politics and their current girlfriends. They saw us as slaves and as such we were no more than animals. Interspersed through their conversations, they invariably described us as 
"fucking, stinking, filthy animals pissing and crapping in their cages". However, this was a job they had done a number of times before and, no matter how distasteful, as long as they were well paid, they were prepared to tolerate our smell and ask no questions. 

Finally, after all our cages were loaded, Brett handed over documentation listing our personal details to the driver for use upon our arrival at our destination. The driver of the lorry signed a paper acknowledging the receipt of all twenty-three of us and climbed into the cabin together with the men who had helped to load our cages. Then with a cheery wave and a "see you next load" to Brett and Craig, the lorry left for the airstrip. 

Once under way, terrified and weeping, we endured a two hour trip to the next leg of our journey into slavery. The trip to the remote airstrip was along secondary roads and down back lanes, away from major highways, to avoid any chance encounters with police or other authorities. The driver showed scant regard for our comfort as he sped through the night. For our part we prisoners were jostled and thrown about within the confines of our cages. For us, this trip is the beginning of the nightmare that would only worsen with each passing day. 

Eventually, within the dark confines of the lorry, we felt the vehicle gradually slow down before coming to a halt. I heard the driver and his companions climb down out of the cabin and I strained to hear them talking and laughing as they were joined by others. Suddenly, the canopy enclosing the lorry was torn away exposing our naked bodies to the chill of the night air. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I made out the bulky shape of a cargo plane waiting on the nearby tarmac. Without further delay, a forklift began to unload our cages and deliver us into the bowels of the plane. 

Panic-stricken, I and my fellow captives renewed our desperate but futile struggles to be free of our prisons. One by one, the cages were removed from the lorry, taxied over to the rear of the plane before disappearing up the ramp and into the cargo hold. Terrified and in total disbelief, I held on to the bars of my cage as it was hoisted into the air and taken up the rear ramp and into the plane. Inside the plane, two Arabs were directing the placement of the cages.

Helplessly, I was aware that my cage was placed on top of another and shortly after, another cage was placed on top of my own. Soon all twenty-three cages were loaded and securely fastened down to prevent any damage to us. Once this was done, the rear ramp was closed and the plane's engines noisily started up for a quick departure. We were on the final leg of our journey into slavery.

Once airborne, the two Arab handlers accompanying us inspected both front and rear of the cages checking that all was secure. Satisfied that all is well, one of the Arabs uncoiled a long whip of buffalo hide. Noisily cracking it through the air to gain our attention, he then addressed us. 

"Listen slaves, for that is what you now are, listen and pay heed. You are on the final leg of your journey to the estate of your owner, His Highness, Prince Rashid. The flight will take about twelve to fourteen hours and on arrival you will be quickly processed into your future lives as slaves". 

At his words, we began to shout as much as our gags would allow and to violently kick the front panel of our cages in protest. Once again the whip crackles through the air forcing us into silence. 

"SILENCE! One more outburst such as that and we'll haul you out of your cages, one by one, and give you a taste of our whips. Now listen and listen carefully for I'm only going to say this once. YOU ARE NOW SLAVES and you will be treated like slaves. Slaves DO NOT talk unless given permission to do so by their masters. And you do not have our permission to speak -so remain SILENT. Accept these preliminary rules and save yourselves a lot of pain". 

"These", he said as he held up his electric prod- "can inflict a lot pain and we won't hesitate to use them on any slave who tries to defy us. Now, there are some rules you need to know governing your behaviour on this flight. Soon we will remove your gags and give you some water to drink. As we do this YOU WILL REMAIN SILENT! You'll have to wait until your arrival at your Master's property before you are given food. Your hands will remain shackled behind you for the duration of the flight and should you need to relieve yourselves during the flight, then that will be unfortunate as you will NOT be removed from your cages So it's simply a case of `hold on' or `let go'- the choice is yours. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" 

Noisily cracking their whips to further subdue us, both overseers move down the row of cages. One by one they open each cage and remove the gags from our mouths. When they remove the gag from Mike's mouth however, he immediately unleashes a torrent of abuse and obscenities. 

He screams that they are making a mistake and warns them of Prince Rashid's anger once he learns of Mike's true identity. He tells them that he is a friend of Prince Rashid and enjoys a very close relationship with His Highness. 

Jeering, they laugh at his protestations as one of them presses his prod into Mike's naked body. Instantly, the troublesome, new slave screams in agony and collapses into a writhing heap on the bottom of his cage. As they replace his gag, they tell him that he will stay thirsty until we arrive at our destination. Somehow, as I watch Mike's suffering, I don't think their comments register with him 

I and my fellow slaves look on, in horror, at Mike's quivering body and twitching limbs. All of us are now aware of what to expect should we speak or show any sign of defiance. The silence is broken only by the hum of the aircraft's engines and our soft crying. 

True to their word the two overseers commence to water us. Firstly, we are ordered into a kneeling position. Fearful of the prods and the punishment handed out to Mike, we hasten to obey and kneel within our cages and await further orders. 

Without realising it, this fear of punishment and my prompt compliance with the overseer's command marks my first step into slavery. I'm not to know but from now on I'll find it easier to obey all orders given to me. 

Methodically, they move from cage to cage and allow us to siphon our fill of water from a container through a tube placed in our mouths. 

Once we'd been watered, we settle down in our cages as the plane continues its slow flight through the night. The steady drone of the plane's engines lulls many us into an exhausted sleep. I sleep fitfully and I'm frequently disturbed by the sounds of coughing, snoring and farting. 

Gradually, I become aware of the predawn light seeping into the plane's interior through the window ports. I'm painfully aware of my usual early morning erection straining for relief. I'm surprised at this - I thought my trauma would prevent any arousal on my part. However, with my wrists fastened behind me, I have to suffer the frustration of not being able to masturbate and gradually, my erection subsides. Looking at the slaves on either side of me, I see that they are experiencing the same frustration. 

The hours pass slowly as the plane continues its slow but steady journey towards it destination. 

All is silent around me as we huddle dejectedly in our cages. Inevitably, we are now resigned to our fates and know that, all too soon, we will be confronted with unimaginable horrors. I am filled with fear and uncertainty about my future prospects and I shed bitter tears for the friends and loved-ones now permanently lost to me.  

My life as a slave promises to be unimaginably bleak. 

Suddenly, there is a change in the pitch of the plane's engines and I sense that the plane has commenced its slow descent. Panic and hopelessness now grip me as the plane continues its descent to the isolated desert airstrip far below us.  My fellow slaves utter cries of despair as the plane bumpily lands and lurches along the tarmac before finally coming to a stop. 

The overseers once again crack their whips menacingly through the air and order us to remain silent and motionless as we cower in our cages. Fearfully, we now await our fates.

                           >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

On the airstrip, Prince Rashid and Geoff, his estate manager wait for the plane to come to a halt. Impatiently, Rashid waits for the crew to open the cargo hold. He is anxious to board the plane to examine this latest cargo of human misery that makes up the third shipment of slave livestock from the UK for this year. 

For the waiting captives their journey is at an end. Now begins the next phase of their journey into total and complete slavery.


To be continued.......................





