109 Brevard Street Ch. 02

I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. I hadn't slept very well on the floor and I was tired. Sometime later, I heard Daddy come into the bedroom. He didn't wake me; he kissed my forehead and said, "Sleep, little girl, sleep." I'd never felt so safe and secure.

I was awakened by loud voices in the living room. Daddy had left the bedroom door ajar. I didn't know what they were saying and I didn't care. I went to the bathroom to brush my hair. When I was presentable I stood at the bedroom door and tried to figure when would be a good time to go into the living room.

"Two boys – you said two boys!" the voice said. From his accent I guessed he was Daddy's Middle Eastern friend. "Where other boy?"

I didn't like the way he talked to Daddy. "One boy – you get half money!"

"No-no – wait'll you see him – he's worth more than half!" Daddy said.

I wondered what 'boys' they were talking about. I decided now would be a good time for 'Daddy's Little Girl' to go into the living room. Maybe I could break the tension.

They quit talking when I entered the room. I swayed my hips like Daddy taught me. The swarthy man in Arab robes smiled when he saw me. Daddy noticed his smile, too.

"Sweetie...I want to introduce you to my friend," he said, but never mentioned any names.

I shook the man's hand. He had a strong grip and wouldn't release my hand. I wasn't going to complain. The man slowly looked me up and down. I felt Daddy's hand rubbing my bottom, his other hand slid up my chest to a nipple, he squeezed it hard and I yelped in surprise. My penis stiffened inside my 'harem pants'. They both laughed.

The man stepped forward and examined me with his hands. My back, my chest, my belly. I was made to open my mouth; he seemed to be inspecting my teeth. He brazenly took hold of my hard penis and squeezed and stroked it until I sighed. He liked that.

Then he pushed down my pants. I thought Daddy would stop him, but instead Daddy told me to "Spread your legs!" I did as I was told. I felt a pudgy finger against my anus. He roughly pushed it into me and held it there. He wriggled it around inside me then suddenly removed it. He sniffed at his finger then wiped it on his robe.

He smiled at Daddy. "I like," he said.

Daddy made a face at him and the man understood. I didn't.

I was told to pull up my pants as the men went to the kitchen. When they came back, Daddy handed me a glass with about two ounces of brown liquid in it. They both held glasses, too.

Daddy proposed a toast: "To my pretty little girl!" I proudly smiled. They drank theirs straight down. I did as they did. Daddy told me to sit on the sofa.

They sat in the leather chairs and didn't say anything. They seemed to be watching me. I smiled at them and they smiled at me. It was nice.

When they began talking I heard the words but didn't quite know what they meant.

"Thirty thousand," the Arab man said to Daddy.

"Forty-two," my Daddy said back at him.

They looked at me and kept saying numbers. I just smiled.

Daddy finally said, "Thirty-five" and the Arab man said, "Sold!"

Daddy refilled their drinks, and they clinked glasses together and drank.

Then I heard Daddy say to the man, "If you want to try him out you can use apartment number two."

The Arab said, "No – not here. I'll use asshole on plane ride!"

They both laughed.

Then the Arab asked Daddy, "No other boy? Where's he? You hiding from Achmed?"

Daddy shook his head, "I don't know – he should be here. I hope nothing's happened to him!"

The Arab shook his head, "No damaged goods...can't wait more – must go!" He stood up. He came to me and helped me off the sofa. I almost fell when I stood. They both thought it was funny.

He pushed the harem pants down my legs. "You keep – I have plenty!"

Daddy wrapped a trench coat over my shoulders. The Arab man took my hand. All three of us left the house. It was dark outside. We walked to a car parked on the street. A large man jumped from the driver's door and ran to the rear passenger door and opened it just as we got there. The Arab yanked the coat off me and gave it to Daddy. He helped me into the backseat, careful that I didn't bump my head. He and Daddy shook hands then he climbed into the car and sat beside me. The driver started the engine and off we went down the street.

It happened so fast I didn't know what any of it meant. All I knew I was sitting naked in the backseat of a car with an Arab friend of Daddy's. And I remembered Daddy saying I was to obey his friend.

The Arab man lifted his robe and exposed a short, fat erect cock. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced my head down to his lap.

"SUCK-SUCK!" he told me.

The smell from his crotch was hideous but I knew better than to disobey. I worked on that stump-of-a-cock with my hands, lips and tongue. I had to satisfy him fast to get away from his stench. I sucked and stroked his stubby cock the way Daddy had taught me. I heard the Arab groan – he held my head on his cock. He shot thin rivulets of greasy cum into my mouth. I swallowed it all. It tasted as bad as he smelled.

"Lick clean!" he ordered. I did as I was told, happy that I didn't make him mad by choking or gagging on his slimy jizz.

He pulled my head from his crotch by my hair and patted me on my cheek.

"You make good slave-boy—you service Arab masters long time," he sneered at me. I didn't know what he meant.

I looked around and saw the lights of the city behind us. We were in the country and it was pitch black outside. I couldn't see any moon or stars. I wondered how the driver knew his way out here.

Suddenly, the driver made a sharp u-turn, he back-tracked a half mile and turned right into what looked like an orange grove. The gravel road was bumpy and I hit my head on the ceiling of the car. He slowed down, turned the car left and we were in a clearing. I could see lights up ahead. When we got closer I recognized it as an airplane. He drove right up beside the plane and stopped the car. He jumped out of the driver's door and opened the Arab's passenger door. The Arab climbed out pulling me behind him. The door of the plane swung open.

Then suddenly, all hell broke loose. Floodlights around us turned night into day. Angry voices were shouting at us. Men with guns drawn ran up to us and ordered us on the ground. The Arab pushed me away from him, I fell on the ground. I lay there listening to the screaming and shouting voices.

Then I heard one voice calling my name. I shook my head in disbelief. I heard him shout my name again. Tears welled in my eyes. There, I heard it again. The one voice I knew and loved so well. His voice was music to my ears. My heart leapt with joy. I snapped out of my drugged stupor and shouted as loud as I could.

"BBBBB—IIIII—LLLLL—LLLLL--YYYYY!!!!!"

"Another margarita?" I asked Billy.

"Wonderful idea, sweetie," he answered, "but then I need to get those steaks on the grill."

I climbed off my chaise lounge to make the drinks. Billy swatted my fanny as I walked by; I giggled. It was another glorious sunset over the Gulf.

On Billy's last birthday he inherited a trust fund that he didn't even know he had coming. It was from his grandmother – the only person in his family who didn't care he was gay.

He bought us a beautiful little house, very private, overlooking the Gulf. We made the most of every day. When we weren't traveling, and we were home, we'd marvel at the sunset every evening.

I never told my family I was gay, but I did tell them I was living with the love of my life and his name is Billy. I still speak with them on a regular basis.

As for 109 Brevard Street, Billy was my knight in shining armor. Billy didn't trust Mister T's 'contract', and snooped around whenever he got the chance. He found paperwork implicating Mister T as a White Slave Trader and alerted the authorities.

The police interviewed me once, and that was it. After the initial arrests, the newspapers were strangely quiet on the matter. We saw the Arab's photo in the paper, but all it said was he declared diplomatic immunity, and rushed home to a family emergency in Saudi Arabia.

Poor Mister T, his end came rather abruptly. There was one small item in the paper a couple weeks after his arrest. He was beaten and sexually assaulted in the county jails shower room; he died from his injuries. Billy and I suspect the Arab may have had something to do with that.

When I brought Billy his drink, the sunset glistened off his hard body. My heart melted; I couldn't resist. I kneeled between his legs and pulled his shorts down. His beautiful cock sprang into view. I took a sip of my margarita and sucked his hard cock into my mouth.

God how I loved these sunsets!