The Telemachus Story Archive

White Sale
By Jotto (Illustrated by Jotto)
Email: Jotto

His name was Norman Nice, which usually caught people off guard since this collegiate wrestler stud looked nothing like a Norman.  And a further surprise was his openness about being a promiscuous gay young man.  He and his teammates went to Morocco to take part in an international college wrestling competition.  During the competition, many of the American team members had caught the eye of those who where scouting for new talent to be drafted into the white sex slave trade.  But those who specialize in the peddling of Caucasian flesh were especially taken by the prospects of Norman’s form and sizable bulge that were easily reveled by his wrestling tights. 
To celebrate their victory at the conclusion of the tournament, the American wrestlers went out for a night on the town.  Against the advice of their tour guides, Norman wore his formfitting white jeans and a white nylon-lycra muscle shirt that both were more like an eighth layer of skin.  And hoping to score some local action, he had wrestled into his lucky pearl-white thong and wore it high enough to be seen above the waistband of his jeans.  After dinner, four of the wrestlers lead by Norman broke off from the group to experience some of the “real” neighborhoods of Morocco.  And being that Norman was the whitest in the group of four, this made him a prime target for agents from the underworld of sex.  As the four wrestlers entered very local bar, they did not notice the shadowy figures following them.  Once the boys started drinking, the slave agents feigned adoration for the boys prowess and bought them a round of drinks that had been spiked with a powerful sedative.
When the racially diverse group finally regained consciousness the next morning on the floor of that dilapidated bar, they found they were stripped of their belongings and their clothing.  And even more to their dismay, their asses and mouths had a thick coating of dried semen.  As they looked for something to wear, they realized their friend and team leader Norman was missing.  Dressed in tablecloths, they notified the police who brushed it off as another act of drunken Americans.  But the local police actually knew something more sinister had happened, but did not dare to mention it.
Meanwhile… in an even more lawless part of town, Norman laid face down in a ragged mattress.  As he woke, he tried to push out of bed, but soon realized his muscular arms were snugly tied behind his back, and that a collar was around his neck with a thick chain attached.  Being agile as he was, he able to right himself and explore the small room as far as the chain would let him.  His rumblings caught the attention of a huge guard who open the door and instructed him to move back with a wave of his finger. 
Norman demanded, “Who are you?  Where am I and why am I tied up?”
The guard said nothing as he unhooked the chain from the wall and yanked Norman out down a dark corridor.  As they walked, Norman could hear the boisterous noises of foreign speaking men getting closer.  As they rounded a corner, Norman saw a smoky room full of Arab and Asian men flashing wads of cash at an auctioneer who was up on stage parading a helpless foal of a boy who had been stripped of his clothes and his humanity.  This lad had been abducted off a cruise ship about the same time as Norman accepted a drink from a stranger.  On the wall behind the stage was the flag of Morocco and above that was a misspelled banner touting the sale of American boys.  Norman didn’t know if it would help or hurt him if they knew he was actually half Chinese.  Whichever, none of these men were interested in looking into his eyes… except for one man, a hooded figure that sat back in the darkest shadow of the room and was the first to notice the statuesque Norman enter.  At first sight, this man knew his shopping was about to end.
Finally, as one Asian businessman leapt to his feet with a large roll of cash, the auctioneer scanned the room for other bidders and then awarded the boy to the businessman.  The executive from a prominent electronics company took hold of the chain around the frail boy’s neck and quickly took him back to a private room where they could get better acquainted.
The auctioneer’s eyes exploded when he spotted Norman in the back of the room and cooed as he gestured for all to take a look.  A hush fell over the room as all gazed upon Norman; hundreds of eyes traced the contour of the wrestlers physique through his tight white clothing and focused on the sizable bulge pushing out the front of his pants.  Norman thought, “Oh, fuck.”   To say that the men were undressing him with their eyes would be underestimating their imagination.  As the guard advanced through the room with Norman in tow, any hand within reach of the muscle-bound jock grabbed a handful of any of his muscles and tested his brawn.  Norman vanished into a maelstrom of hands that wiped across his torso, head, face, arms, and legs and held on tight to his firm buttocks and dense package.  Norman yelled, as the grooming got intense.  It then got severe enough as to make it difficult for the guard to pull the wrestler through the room causing the auctioneer to call for all to calm down, but to no avail.  Finally, the guard had to swat away all the hands that were smothering Norman and pulled the disheveled assemblage of muscles up the three steps to the relative safety of the stage.  As the guard secured the chain to a latch on the stage floor, the auctioneer moved in for his own examination of Norman.
Norman tried to warn off the seedy figure heading his way, “Keep away from me you pervert.”
The guard swung his massive hand a slapped Norman in the face, and then made a fist and walloped the stud’s stomach.  Norman doubled over in pain.  The guard was readying to do more to the wrestler but was stopped by the auctioneer.  As Norman straightened up and caught his breath, the auctioneer grabbed at the young man’s face and pulled his mouth open to have a look at the athlete’s teeth.  Norman winced at the odor wafting off the slimy man that tightly held onto his jaw.  The auctioneer turned to the crowd with an approving nod of his head.  The oily digits of the auctioneer slid off Norman’s face and on to his voluminous pectorals and gave the muscles a vigorous shaking.  Norman instinctively flexed, locking his rock-hard muscles in place.  The flesh peddler was impressed as he pounded on Norman’s sturdy flesh and then lifted the wrestler’s shirt as high as he could.  A collection of gasps and awes filled the room as the wrestler’s rippling chest and abs were revealed to the crowd.  As offended by the violation as he was, Norman couldn’t help but feel proud about the reaction these people had at gazing upon his body.
The fingers of the auctioneer slowly traversed down the sculpted form of athletic prowess.  Norman and the auctioneer exchanged glances as the auctioneer’s fingers glided below the waistband of his white jeans and paused over the mound of flesh concealed beneath an overstressed fly.  Then with the precession and expertise that comes with having done something so many times and for so long, the auctioneer needed only two of his fingers as he unfastened the button and unzipped the fly of Norman’s pants.  Norman tried to pull away as the guard and the auctioneer spread the flaps of his jeans apart.  The shiny pearl-white material of his thong was iridescent in the intense spotlight that shined on his body and became a beacon of virility to all who were fortunate enough to be there.  The auctioneer was intrigued by the tattooed rose that poked above the rim of Norman’s thong as he circled the artwork of colored flesh with his finger, and then pushed the top of the skimpy garment down far enough to see the rest of the flower.  The flesh peddler’s finger grazed the base of the wrestler’s firmly packed mighty phallus and slid around the neatly shaved skin of his groin.  The auctioneer gave a special signal to the guard who stepped in and grabbed the thin waistband of Norman’s thong just to the right of his hefty package as the auctioneer grabbed onto the thong just to the left of the wrestler’s manhood.  Norman took a deep breath in anticipation of the immanent humiliation.  Then in perfect unison, the guard and the auctioneer pulled down Norman’s last bit of modesty.  And the crowd went wild as the college athlete’s huge genitals sprang out, unfolded downward and came to rest with a bounce.  The auctioneer grabbed the huge penis and shook it vigorously while noting to the crowd that it overflowed his hand even though it was still limp.
And then it hit Norman like a ton a bricks, this is it, the fantasy he’s read about and imagined so many times, a gorgeous stack of muscles subjugated, objectified and put up for sale.  And as the crowd cheered and started feverously bidding on his body, Norman’s exhibitionist ego was stroked and his libido became active.  All his instincts told him he was in trouble, but his sex-drive was the stronger still.  Norman could feel the blood starting to collect in the tissue of his penis as it began to get heavier and bigger.  He pleaded with his own thoughts to maintain some willpower and fight having an erection, but it was already too late.  The cheering and the bidding got more frantic as his erection became noticeable.  The louder the crowd became, the harder he got, until all thirteen inches of his throbbing cock swayed majestically in the glare of the spotlight.  Norman was both humiliated and pleased with himself and put off devising some sort of escape until a later time.
The auctioneer was distracted from his job as he reached over and patted Norman’s cock a few times just to see if it was real.  As a drop of pre-cum peaked out from the plump head of his third leg, the auctioneer quickly swooped it up with his finger and tasted it.  He told the crowd it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.  Norman gave up on all is inhibitions and enjoy the attention as he started swing his hips and flexed his groin muscles causing his cock to dance around.  As beads of his juice dripped from his cock, Norman would flick his hips and whip his monster cock around, flinging drops of his pre-cum into his adoring audience.  And through it all, Norman noticed one hooded figure sitting quietly in the back of the room.
After fifteen minutes of frenzied bidding, only two of the wealthiest men were left standing, trying to outbid each other.  And then finally, there was one. Norman’s heart sank as his eyes adjusted through the glare of the spotlight.  There stood the highest bidder, a national of Kuwait on the shy side of four hundred pounds, and it looked as though fifty of that was just his black gnarly body hair.  As the fat and ugly Kuwaiti approached the stage, Norman wondered what hell he had encouraged as the auctioneer began a countdown to final bid with the clapping of his hands.  As the auctioneer clapped once, the guard unhooked Norman’s chain from the floor.  As the auctioneer clapped twice, the repulsive Kuwaiti drooled into his beard as he took a hold of the chain.  Norman gulped.  And as the auctioneer was about to clap a third and final time, the hooded figure in the back of the room stood up and shouted out a ridiculously high sum.  The auctioneer, the Kuwaiti and the crowd were stunned into silence as the hooded figure repeated his offer.  The auctioneer looked to the Kuwaiti for a higher bid, but the fat ugly hairy man just growled loudly as he threw down the chain and stormed out of the room.  As the hooded figure walked up to the stage, the auctioneer proclaimed him the winner of this gorgeous white statue.
Norman tried to see who his new owner was, the figure under the robe was sleek but the hood made it impossible to see his face.  The robed figure stood at the foot of the stage and was handed Norman’s chain.  The wrestler’s owner pulled on the chain, forcing Norman to the edge of the three-foot high stage.  The wrestler’s throbbing member stared its’ new owner in the face.  There, in front of everybody, the hooded figure leaned in; the plump head Norman’s drooling cock disappeared into the darkness of the hood.  Norman could feel a tongue press into the wet maw of his member as a mouth started to swallow the summit of his phallic mountain.  It was rare when anyone could take on even just part Norman’s one-eyed anaconda, so the wrestler was about to fall in love as the hooded figure grabbed onto Norman’s waist and swallowed all thirteen inches of his cock.  As a talented throat messaged every inch of his pride, Norman was immediately grateful to his new owner.  His head rolled back and his body shuddered as a wave of ecstasy like nothing he was able to experience before consumed him.  The room cheered as the hooded figure pulled back leaving behind a glossy coated cock and a wrestler that had just found a new purpose to his life, to be this man’s slave.
As the hooded man made his way up on stage, he ordered the guard to remove the rest of Norman’s clothing, and just the clothing.  The brutish guard ripped the shirt off Norman and had to tug a few times before his lucky thong shredded away from his groin.  Norman voluntarily kicked off his shoes as his jeans were torn apart at the seams.  And there he stood in the spotlight, the living incarnate of Greek statuary, wearing only a smile and the bondage around his arms and neck.  The hooded man handed his slave’s chain to the guard while he disrobed.  When he pulled his hood back, Norman and everyone else in the gasped.  Norman was pleasantly shocked to see a beautiful face made of dark olive skin.  Everyone else was shock to see that it was the billionaire playboy from India, Omar.  He parted his robe and revealed his naked perfection, a darker and leaner version of Norman’s body, but just as well toned and almost as well hung.
Norman smiled as he shouted out, “Woo-hoo!  He shoots, he scores!”
Omar took back the chain and pulled Norman in for a deep long kiss.  Their two pulsating members entwined while pressed between two sets of chiseled abs.  Omar turned Norman around and checked out his over developed back and butt cheeks.  After a few slaps on the wrestles ass, Omar bent Norman over and spread his ass apart to inspect the tight little hole tucked deep between to rippling mounds of flesh.  With regal authority, Omar pointed to a bottle of oil and the guard promptly handed it to him.  As Norman balanced himself, he was ready and willing to give any part of himself to his master who was guiding oil over and into his asshole.  Omar then coated his own cock with the oil and moved in to claim is prize.  The Indian tested Norman’s glory with a few fingers at first, but then spared no mercy as he shoved all ten inches of his Hindu pride up the wrestler’s ass.  Norman squealed like the stuck pig he was eager to be.  His roped and tied muscular arms flexed and strained to let his fingers reach in for a touch of his master’s cock as it slid in and out of his athletic ass.  Omar wielded the chain like a teamster would use his reins to control a beast of burden, whipping him into a frenzy as he spanked and plowed away at Norman’s ass.  The wrestler’s hair fell into his eyes as his body undulated violently, sending his monster cock whipping back and forth into his stomach.
Norman begged, “Please, don’t stop fucking me, Master.  I am yours!”
Omar replied in Hindi something just as vulgar.  And though the two spoke different languages, they understood each other perfectly.  The sexual performance got more vigorous as their audience cheered louder and louder.  Omar snapped his fingers at the guard and gestured him to service his brawny slave.  Eagerly, the guard slid under the oscillating wrestler and grabbed a hold of Norman’s mammoth manhood.  Only able to get his mouth around the head of Norman’s cock, the guard used his hands to stroke the rest of the college jock’s pulsating member and swinging balls as Omar continued to pump away at the American’s asshole.  And just a few long minutes latter, Norman lost his struggle to hold back his orgasm as his body started to tremble and contort wildly.  The guard recoiled as the wrestler’s aching cock spewed out buckets of semen into the adoring crowd.  Some dodged the spray of liquid manhood as other raced in to catch even just a drop.  And just as Norman’s flow subsided to a few irregular spurts, Omar plucked his cock from the wrestler’s ass and drenched his slave’s back with his own brand of liquid male.  And the crowd went wild.
Norman stood tall as the last few drops of his seed drooled from his still beating phallus and turned to look Omar in the eye, “Master.”
Omar smiled as they inhaled each other’s tongues.  As they parted, Omar reached down into his discarded robe and pulled out a large bag of precious gems and tossed it to the auctioneer.  As the playboy Omar held onto the chain of his sex slave and now former wrestling champion, Norman, the two naked young men strolled confidently out to the crowded streets of Morocco and down a couple of blocks to a waiting limousine.  The stretched automobile took the two of them to a private jet.  The twin-engine craft took them to a foreign land where another limo took them to a mansion on a cliff that commanded a view of the Indian Ocean.  And during their journey, the two remained naked and one, as they would for the even longer journey ahead of them.