James Stuart
the Erotic Historian

The Country Manor

Chapters 21-22

Chapter 21
An Opening Lead

It took another four days for the ship to reach Athens, their first destination. During this time the insatiable Charles managed to satisfy his horny body by engaging in various sexual activities with his father, Henry, Thomas the cabin boy, and even the Frank. Charles wanted to be sure the American did not change his mind again, and Frank was not complaining about this very pleasurable additional payment. On their arrival at the Greek capital, the four hunters departed the ship and set off to find a passage to the Turkish port of Izmir. Unfortunately the first boat they found that could take them did not leave until the morning of the 28th of April, which was the day after tomorrow. They booked into a hotel, and spent the whole of the next day in Athens. Since they had nothing better to do they visited the various classical sites scattered around the city, something Charles, Henry and Frank enjoyed a lot. Sam would have done too in ordinary circumstances, but his mind was elsewhere. He could only think of the hunt ahead, and was trying to keep his spirits up. Whilst he was more than aware that his boys might be thousands of miles from where they were now, he was silently praying that their hunch had paid off, and the three children were at least somewhere near Izmir. He did not know what it was, but something deep down told him his boys were close, and his search would not be in vain.

The following day they left the hotel early and caught the boat to Izmir. The vessel was not large, and was very over crowded. Sam was glad that they would only have to spend a single night on board, as all he could get was one small cabin between the four of them, containing a pair of bunk beds. The other passengers were mostly Greek, which was not surprising, as Sam had learnt that the western coast of Turkey, which was where they were heading, had a sizeable Greek population. The sea was quite choppy during the day, which did not make the journey any more pleasant, as the little boat was thrown around easily. They spotted the Turkish coast early the next morning, and they were all pleased to step back on dry land again after they had arrived at the port.

The docks were bustling with life, so it was clear the town was an important seaport, and probably a trading centre as well. After a bit of a search, Sam succeeded in finding a taxi, and they managed to get the driver to understand that they wanted a hotel. They were taken off to what they guessed was the centre of town, and dropped off before a rather large looking building, which Sam hoped was the best hotel in town. If it was, it had certainly seen better days. The grand looking facade of the place was in dire need of some repair work, and as they stepped into the lobby, it was clear that it had been a long time since this had last received a coat of paint. Sam got the impression that he was stepping into a building that had long ago seen some more glorious days. He wondered if this was indicative of the whole town, as it was no surprise if the fortunes of this port were decaying along with the Ottoman Empire it served.

Sam booked three rooms, one for him and Charles, and a room each for Henry and Frank. They off loaded their luggage, freshened up in their rooms, them met up in the hotel restaurant for an early lunch during which they decided on their next moves. Sam thought the best action was if they split up into two groups. Himself and Henry would try to see if they could find the establishment associated with the tattoo which had led them here in the first place. Frank and Charles in the meantime could start enquiring as to the whereabouts of any wealthy Turkish gentlemen, particularly if they had a taste for boys.

Before leaving the hotel, Sam managed to change some of the British pounds he had brought with him into the local currency, some of which he handed to Frank in case he needed to pay any bribes. The two groups then parted, and Sam and Henry's first move was to hail a taxi. This consisted of a rather scruffy man driving a rickety two-horse carriage, but they realised it would have to do. Next job was deciding where to tell the driver where they wished to go. Sam was not expecting a boy brothel to be well sign posted, but taxi drivers have a reputation of knowing the whereabouts of such dubious establishments, so Sam thought they might get lucky.

The two men clamoured inside, and Sam asked the driver if he could speak any English, but the question produced a blank look. He then tried French, which Sam knew a little of, but this was equally unsuccessful. Realising that they could not communicate with the driver at all, Sam pulled out the piece of paper with the drawing of the tattoo that had been on the Turk's servant boy's bottom. He showed the picture to the driver, hoping he might recognise it. The man stared at the picture for some time, without reacting, until Henry became impatient. He pointed out a pretty Turkish boy, who was walking down the street carrying a small sack, then made an obscene gesture. A huge smile crossed the face of the driver, and with a lash of his whip the carriage set off down the street. Sam was a little annoyed with Henry, as now he was not sure if it was the picture, or Henry's intervention that had prompted the man. Still, he guessed they were heading for some place that catered for gentlemen with a love of boy flesh, and he found it difficult to believe a town this size could support more than one boy brothel. Mind you, for all he knew, screwing boys could be a major passion of most of the male inhabitants, in which case there would be many such establishments. If this were the case, he would have to search all of them to find the one that had once employed the Turk's servant boy. He was also more than aware that it was unfortunately highly likely that the place he was seeking was not even in this town, or maybe not even in this country.

The taxi driver drove his horses quite hard, and his two passengers were bumped about as the wagon sped along the rough streets. Sam observed the people they passed, and was pleased to see that whilst the biggest majority where clearly of Turkish extraction, there were a fair few foreigners as well. Some were black, obviously from Africa, others looked European, and Sam even spotted someone that was dressed like an Englishman. This mixture was to be expected in a trading town, and it had the advantage that Sam and his group would not stick out quite as much as he had originally feared. Another plus point was that they would be more likely to find some, particularly amongst the more educated, that could speak one of the world's two main international languages, namely English or French. If they all spoke nothing but their own tongue, like this taxi driver, it was clearly going to be difficult to find out anything at all.

Eventually the driver pulled up in front of a solemn looking building located on a side street. He got down, and beckoned for his two passengers to follow him. They passed through an archway into a small courtyard, and the taxi driver knocked on an ordinary looking wooden door that led off it into the building. After a short pause, a small shutter in the door was slid open, and a man's face appeared at it. After a brief conversation with the driver, then man nodded, and Sam heard bolts being drawn open. The taxi driver grinned happily at the two foreigners, and Sam, realising he wanted paying, pulled out his wallet. He had no idea how much the man would want, so he gave him the equivalent of what he would pay a London taxi driver, plus a bonus. The driver looked delighted with the payment, and departed.

The door swung open, and a tall, rough looking Turk stared out at the two newcomers. Sam tried the same approached to see what languages he could speak, but unfortunately was no more successful than with the driver. In any case the man beckoned them inside, and closed the door behind them. He led them to a small room off the entrance corridor, and after pointing to a rather tatty sofa he departed. Sam and Henry made themselves comfortable, and waited. A minute or so later, another man entered the room, a smaller man, but more finely dressed, and with a round intelligent face. Sam guessed this was the owner or manager of the place. He walked over to his two guests, warmly shaking them by the hand, before babbling something at them neither Sam nor Henry could understand.

"English, Français?" Sam said, more out of hope than expectation.

"A little, un petit peu," the man replied.

Since the man had not stated which of the two he preferred, Sam decided to use English, as his own French was more than a little rusty.

"Can you speak in English please."

"I try, but my English bad," the host replied, then smiling he added. "My name is Mustafa, you want boy, many nice boys here."

"Well maybe, we also want you to help us with some information," Sam said. The brothel keeper either did not understand Sam, or chose to ignore him, as he simply told them to wait, then disappeared out of the room. He returned with three boys in toe, one very young one, another a teenager, and a third one somewhere in between. It appeared the owner wanted to see what age range his customers fancied. The three boys were dressed in long white tunics which reached to their ankles, and they were all either Turkish, or from elsewhere in the Middle East, with dark, slightly curly hair, brown eyes and a dusky complexion. Not surprising the three youngsters were all very pretty, and they smiled sweetly at the two gentlemen to who they were being offered.

"You like," the host said, then pointing to the youngest boy, he added. "If too old, we have younger." Given the little lad he was pointing out looked no more than eight years old, Sam wondered exactly how much younger the boys in here could get. In any case, Sam told the man the boys were quite young enough.

"You want to see more," Mustafa said, and without waiting for an answer he barked an order at the three kids. The boys immediately knelt down, grabbed hold of the bottom of their tunics, and pulled it up to their chest, showing the men that they wore nothing underneath. All of the boys had slim, sexy bodies, though the size of their genitals varied widely. The youngest boy's penis was minute, and nothing could be seen of his testicles at all, whilst the eldest child was very well endowed, his long cock and heavy balls swinging between his legs. Sam was surprised to see that the older youth, clearly well into puberty, was as hairless as his companions. He guessed that the teenager had been shaved.

Mustafa barked another command, and the three boys turned round to show the men their asses. The rear view proved to be every bit as nice as the frontal, but it was not the beauty of their shapely bottoms that took Sam's attention. His focus was slightly higher, just above each boy's left buttock to be precise. At this point was exactly the same tattoo as he had seen in the drawing. The professor had been right, it was in Izmir where it was used. Sam was besides himself with excitement. In the almost ten weeks since his sons had been kidnapped, the sight of that little mark above each boy's pretty young rump, was the first real good news he had had. All of a sudden Sam was gripped with the idea that perhaps the boys he seeked had been sold to this establishment, and were only just a few yards away from him now, waiting to be rescued.

In any case, Mustafa, misinterpreting the look of joy on Sam's face as one of simple lust, closed in to seal the sale. He pointed at the youngest boy, who had stuck his little bubble butt out rather cheekily.

"He very good, his cheeks like soft pillow."

Sam agreed the boy was charming, but right then his mind was on other matters.

"All three are beautiful, but my friend and myself was wondering if you had any European boys, in our own countries it is hard to come by even our own boys."

"European boys?" the man replied, obviously only understanding that part of what Sam had said. "Yes, Yes, we have, wait."

He ushered out the three boys, scowling at the youngsters as if it was their fault they had not fulfilled the needs of his customer. Whilst they were waiting, Sam found out that the old Scot had also seen the tattoo, and both men waited nervously for what they were to be offered next, as if expecting to see one of John, Billy or Jamie to step into the room with them.

Not surprisingly, when he did return, this was not the case. He had just two boys with him this time. One was still dark haired, but had a lighter complexion, and looked less eastern. The other had light brown hair, pale skin, and was clearly European. The brothel owner pointed to the second boy and said.

"He from Romania, the other is mountain boy from Montenegro, he have strong body, give you much pleasure, bottom cheeks like soft pillow."

Sam came to the conclusion that either all these boys had their asses made from one mould, or Mustafa's English did not stretch to more than one simile. The boys were dressed in the same way as the earlier kids, but following a command from their master, their garment was swiftly lifted up as the pair exposed themselves. Both boys looked around the same age, and from their height and the size of their genitals, it was obvious they were just entering puberty. Beautiful as the pair was, it was clealy not what Sam was looking for.

"Nice, very nice, but we were hoping you might have some blond boys, do you?" Sam was taking advantage of the fact that all three of the boys he sought, both of his missing sons, and Jamie, were blonds. Unfortunately the brothel owner did not appear to understand the question at all.

"You know blond, fair hair," Sam said, pointing to his own hair, though alas that had lost its blond colour many years before.

"Yellow hair," Henry added, hoping the man at least understood the primary colours.

"Oh, golden hair," Mustafa said, when he realised what they meant. "No, sorry, golden boys cost much much money, I not rich man."

"Can you help us find some blond, I mean golden boys?" Sam persisted, then phrasing his question even easier added, "Where golden boys?"

Their host looked annoyed that they had seemed to have lost interest in his own boys. "I help, maybe, but I only help customers."

Sam knew immediately what the man wanted. Now as sexy as the boys they had seen were, Sam had not really come here looking for sex. With this in mind, he was about to offer to pay, without actually partaking of the available pleasures, but then stopped himself. Clearly if he did that, the man might get suspicious. Perhaps he would be more willing to talk if he knew that his guests were pederasts, like he himself probably was.

"Perhaps we talk later, but I would like that boy", and Sam pointed to the mountain boy, whom had given him a particularly sweet smile as he had looked on them again.

"Are you happy with the other one?" Sam asked Henry. The old Scot gave him an inquiring look, then understanding what he was trying to do, he indicated the boy would do just fine.

"Good, Good," the brothel owner said, smiling happily now that he was to make some money. "You have much pleasure, then we drink together," He shouted a command at the young Montenegrin boy, and the kid bounded up to the pair. Mustafa roughed the child's hair rather lovingly, then said to his client.

"He very good, you have his mouth, you have his bottom, he do everything."

"How much?" Sam asked. He did not really care, but thought it would look odd if he didn't ask.

"Very cheap here," the man answered, then retrieving a piece of paper, he wrote a number down and showed it to his guest. Sam did a mental conversion into English money, and realised the price was less than what he would pay for a couple of beers in the local tavern back home. Boy flesh was clearly cheap round here.

"For ten more, he give massage," Mustafa added. Sam agreed, hoping to please the man, though the thought of this pretty boy giving him a massage was making his prick grow already. The brothel owner said something to the boy, and Sam fetched out his wallet.

"No, no, pay after. If boy not good, he pay," Mustafa said.

Sam had little doubt that in this case the boy would pay with a whipping, but he had every intention of saying the child was wonderful, no matter what happened. The boy took Sam by the hand and led him out of the room, and as he looked behind him he could see Henry was also about to led away by the Romanian boy.

The mountain boy led Sam down a few corridors, and the Englishman began to realise that this place was not small. They passed a number of doors as they went, and Sam wondered what was perhaps going on behind each one. At one point the pair passed a Turkish Gentleman walking the other way. He was holding the hand of quite a young boy, who was completely naked. Sam did not know if the pair were on the way to a room for some fun, or they had in fact all ready finished, and the happy customer was making his way over to pay, the youngster beside him walking along with a bottom full of cum.

Eventually the boy led them through a door into a small room. The furniture consisted of little more than a bed plus a table beside it. There were no windows at all, the only light coming from a large oil lamp sitting on the table. Approaching the table, Sam found various things that the customer might need. The brothel clearly tried to cater for its clients well. There was a towel, a jar of lubricant, some water to drink, even a cigar for the customer to have afterwards. However Sam spotted a few more sinister items, like a very large wooden dildo, perhaps of use for those men having problems getting an erection, though it looked a bit too big for employing on a mere child. There was also what looked like a riding crop, a short leather whip and some rope. Sam had no intention of taking advantage of these latter items, but he had a quick drink of the water before turning to look at the youngster.

The boy was watching him rather nervously. He was no doubt unaccustomed to serving Western European men, and was perhaps unsure what would be expected of him. Sam smiled gently at the boy, then walking up to him gave him a fatherly hug, and kissed him on the top of his head. This instantly put the boy at ease, who smiled warmly back at the man, then whipped off his single garment and stood before Sam nude. The Englishman spent a few moments looking at the boy, who was certainly a real beauty. He had a fit looking body, one bought up on hard physical labour and walking up mountains. The child was obviously in good health, with a fine shine to his perfect skin, and a good set of teeth could be seen when he flashed one of his frequent smiles. Sam estimated he was around 12 years old, but was unsure how quickly boys matured in his country, so realised be could be either a bit younger or older. He wondered how long the boy had been working here, but when he tried to ask him some questions, he just got the answer.

"Me Sascha", which Sam guessed was the boy's name, and probably the limit of his English.

The child walked up, and helped the Englishman remove the more numerous items of clothing he had on compared to that of the boy. Once Sam was similarly naked, the boy led him over to the bed, and indicated that he wanted the man to lay down. Sascha then returned to the table, and starting getting things ready for the massage. Sam was still feeling a bit guilty about all this. It was not the fact he was about to have sex with a boy, he had done that many times before. However he had not really come to this place looking for a cheap fuck, and he had thought it almost a betrayal of those he seeked to be taking time off from the hunt for some carnal pleasures. Sam wondered if he should just cuddle the boy for a while, before going out and having a word with the proprietor. However it suddenly occurred to him that the brothel owner might be watching him from some secret peephole, like he himself had done so many times when spying on his guests at the Manor parties. He did not want the man to think he was not into boys after all. Fuck it, Sam thought, stop being so concerned, relax, and have a good time. If screwing this sexy young boy was going to get him some information that might help find his boys, who has he to complain.

Sascha walked over to Sam with a bottle of oil in his hands. He indicated to Sam that he wished him to lie on his stomach, and the man obliged. Sam twisted his head back to watch the boy work, and shuddered when he felt the cool oil being poured onto his legs and back. The kid then stepped back, and Sam was rather surprised to see the boy oiling his own body, rather than simply massaging in the oil he had already poured on the man. It was only when the boy mounted up on to the bed, and straggled himself over the legs of the man, that Sam realised that rather than use his hands, the boy was to use his entire body as the instrument of massage. His prick rapidly started to harden at the prospect, and his pleasure increased tenfold when the boy started sliding his body back and forth over firstly his legs, and then moving up to do his ass. Principally using little bottom to spread the slippery oil around, Sam loved the feel of the soft skin of the boy's behind running up and down his body. The kid expertly squeezed his cheeks as he massaged the man's legs.

After several minutes of that, Sascha got off, and twisted his hands to show he wanted Sam to turn over. Sam quickly complied, preferring the new position as he could watch the boy work. Sascha giggled when he noticed the man's rock hard prick lying flat against his belly, and leaned over to cheekily give it a few squeezes. When the child got up on top of the man again, Sam was delighted to see the youngster's small prick was also hard, and was waving around in front of him. It made it much more enjoyable for Sam to know the kid was having fun as well. The massage resumed, again starting with the legs. Sam shuddered in pleasure as the boy's bum slid up higher, and went over his prick, the hard pole acting as a runner as it slipped between the youngster's ass cheeks. As the massage speeded up, and the boy was sliding up and down Sam's upper body, the man started grabbing the youngster's legs, attempting to pull him closer towards his face. Yet the boy's skin was so slick with oil, the little kid always managed to slither away, and he giggled as he saw the frustrated man unable to get a hold on the object of his desire.

Eventually Sam could bear it no longer, so lifting his knees up, the boy fell forward onto his chest. Sam flipped the kid so that he lay beside him, and pushed a leg up between the boy's thighs to stop him from slithering away. He then hugged Sascha to him, and crushed his lips against those of the boy. Sascha, understanding that the massage phase was over, meekly melted into the man's arms, and returned his embrace. The two hugged and kissed for quite sometime, before the boy did manage to slip himself out of the adult's arms, whereupon he started kissing Sam's upper chest, and sucking his nipples until they were hard. Continuing to move his head down, Sascha kissed along the man's belly, until he reached the object he was aiming for, and he slipped Sam's hard prick into his mouth.

The boy sucked greedily on the long pole for some time, Sam gently stroking the kid's back and arse as he worked. Sam could see the boy took pride in his work, and skilfully used his soft little tongue to pleasure his client. He was also not afraid to take almost the whole length of the Englishman's good sized prick into his mouth, and frequently Sam felt the swollen glands of his cockhead banging against the back of the child's throat. As the waves of pleasure swept over Sam, he could feel his balls tightening, and he knew he would soon come. Wanting to postpone it as long as possible, he gently pulled the boy from his prick to let his passions cool for a while.

The boy however, interpreted this as meaning the man was ready for another stage He rolled onto his belly besides Sam, and lifted his bum into the air, clearly offering himself to be fucked. Sam however was not ready for this yet, and so flipped the kid over onto his back. Thinking that the man intended to fuck him from the front, Sascha immediately lifted his legs in the air, and held them tight to his body in the way only a flexible young boy can. Rather than kneeling in front of the boy, Sam instead laid down so his face was level with the kid's lovely ass. He pried the legs a little further apart, then sucked the whole of the boy's private parts into his mouth, savouring the delicious taste.

From the corner of his eye, Sam could see that there was a look of panic in the boy's face. Obviously he was not used to having his prick sucked by the client, and was probably worried he might get in to trouble, as if this was forbidden. Sam couldn't care a less about the established customs in these parts, he enjoyed sucking a boy's cock and balls, and he soon noticed the child was having a good time too. Although certain the boy had been blown before by one of his young companions, Sam could see that it was an extra thrill for him to be treated to this by an adult. Sucking first his little prick, then each of his hairless bollocks in turn, Sam soon had the kid squirming in delight. Prising the boy's ass cheeks further apart, Sam began to lick the tender hole within, before pushing his tongue right inside. He rimmed the boy for a while, then returned to sucking him, pushing a finger into the now vacated anus, stroking the prostate to stimulate the boy further. Sascha was now screaming in pleasure and after a little while of this he shattered to a powerful orgasm.

Sam always enjoyed watching a boy cum, though he was a bit disappointed that the kid was still only capable of a dry orgasm, thus denying him a drink of sweet boy cream. Still he was not going to blame the boy for his tender years, and shuffled up to kiss him tenderly on the lips. Sascha quickly recovered from his orgasm, and locating the man's erection started guiding it towards his ass. Sam wondered if the boy had a genuine randy ass, or if he was simply worried he would get whipped if his customer did not fuck him. Either way, Sam was too horny to refuse the request, and slid his long pole into the boy, embuggering him quickly to the very hilt. The ease of penetration showed that the boy was no stranger to having a good sized cock in his ass, and so Sam started steadily fucking in and out of the boy, enjoying the feel of the child's hot anal walls, as they rubbed against his cock. Kissing the boy passionately as he banged in and out of his ass, Sam once again could feel the cum starting to boil in his balls. This time however, he did not hold back, but speeded up his fucking until he too came, and discharged a heavy load of seed deep into the boy's innards.

The two lay panting for breath for a while, before Sam pulled out of the child, and lay cuddling him for some minutes whilst he recovered. Although content to remain a lot longer like this, Sam knew he had things to do, so got up and started to dress. Sascha also stood up, but made no move to recover his single garment. Once Sam was ready, the naked boy again took the man by the hand, and led him from the room. Sam was curious why the boy left his tunic behind, but guessed that it was a house rule that a boy remains nude until dismissed from his client's presence.

Sascha guided Sam to another chamber within this seemingly endless labyrinth of corridors and rooms. The Englishman was pleased to see that Henry was also here, the pretty Romanian boy that had served him was sitting naked in the old man's lap.

"Have a good time old boy," Sam asked.

"Err, well, I felt I had to," the Scot answered, obviously also feeling a bit guilty to have been occupied by such pleasures when they were here on another mission.

They were not waiting long before Mustafa, the brothel keeper, walked in.

"You enjoy?"

"Yes, very much," Sam and Henry said in unison.

The man clapped his hands in delight, and hugged the two boys before dismissing them from the room. Sam paid him what they had agreed, plus a small bonus for the boys, though he was not certain if they would be allowed to keep it.

"You have coffee with me?" Mustafa asked, and Sam quickly agreed.

The man led his two guests back down a couple more corridors, and they entered a much larger room. The place was on two levels, the three men entering the upper level, which was a kind of balcony round the edge that looked down into an area lower down. Scattered round the balcony was a number of tables, each with seats arranged round them in a semi- circle, so that any one seated could look down into the area below.

Mustafa led the two men to a table that had a steaming pot of coffee in the centre, and some fine china cups before the chairs.

"This place for shows," the brothel owner said as he poured both Sam and Henry a cup of coffee. "No show today, but we use for boy training."

As Sam looked down he saw that the area was indeed occupied by a number of boys and a handful of men. The boys were all naked, but that was hardly unusual in this place. One of the men was also nude, and he was leaning with his back to the wall, sported a good-sized erection that stuck out from his body. Four boys surrounded the man on their knees, and another man was pushing one of the boy's heads forward to encourage him to start sucking the man with the hardon. It was clear to Sam that the man doing the pushing was encouraging the youngster to take as much of the long pole into his mouth as he could. Sam was rather alarmed to see the man held a short length of leather strap in one hand, and he saw a few red marks on the buttocks of the boys in that group. Obviously they were punished if they failed to swallow the prick to an expected depth.

Sam's eyes wandered over to the centre of the area below them, and here he could see half a dozen boys, down on all fours with their heads touching the floor and the asses pushed up in the air. Inserted into the rectum of each kid, was a dildo made from polished wood. Another man stood behind the boys, pushing back in any of the dildos that had managed to ease themselves out, or he occasionally pulled one all the way out before plunging it back into the hilt again. Sam was surprised at the size of the instrument being used, which looked a good 7 to 8 inches in length, and was fairly wide. It seem a bit excessive, particularly given the very tender age of some of the recipients.

Mustafa detected the puzzled expression on Sam's face, so offered an explanation.

"Ah, for a few boys I make bottom big. Sometimes customer find very tight boy hard to fuck, and have less comfort, especially young boys. I help, customer comfort very important here."

As noble as the wish to aid his clients was, Sam could see from the rather strained faces of the boys having their anuses widened, that the operation was not done with their comfort in mind at all. He wondered how long the poor lads had to remain like that. Still he had not come here to investigate the working conditions within a boy brothel, so trying to ignore what he had seen, Sam turned to address his host.

After engaging in some small talk, Sam decided to ask the question he really wanted answering.

"I was wondering if you knew where we could find some blond, I mean golden boys."

"Well maybe, but golden boys very rare, cost much money."

"That does not matter, for the right boy, I have a lot of money." At least this was true for three boys in particular.

Mustafa smiled, "I see you rich man. I have friend that may help, he sometimes have golden boy. I give you address, but he only for special customer, you keep secret. Tell him you come from me."

Sam assured him he would do that, and was delighted when the brothel keeper wrote the address down and handed it him. The three men finished their coffee, then Sam and Henry thanked their host and left the establishment. Quite a successful visit Sam thought, and a pretty pleasurable one too. He was now fairly certain that the man who kidnapped the boys lived close by, or at the very least used to. It was certainly a good start. Hailing another taxi, Sam said to his companion.

"Come on, let's get to this address."

"Have we time now?" the old man enquired, "Should we not try and meet up with the others first?"

"No, they will be okay, this shouldn't take long." Crazy as the idea was, Sam was gripped with the thought that his boys were being held at this address, and all he had to do was wander in and buy them. There was no way he was going to wait around and risk some other client getting them first.

The taxi driver took them back in the direction of the town centre, then turned off onto a side road, and pulled up in front of a grey anonymous looking building. Sam paid the man, and they walked towards what they guessed was the entrance. A moment after they had knocked on the door, it was opened by a huge imposing looking man, who must have been well over 6 foot tall, with thick arms and shovel like hands. Coupled together with his rather mean looking face, Sam immediately knew this was not a chap one would wish to meet on a dark night.

After trying to communicate with the large figure, all they got was a grunt, and a wave of the head, which they interpreted as meaning to come in. As soon as they were inside, the door was slammed closed and bolted, both men immediately wondering what they had walked into. Fortunately, rather than rip them apart, the brute just grunted again then wandered off. Two minutes later he returned with another much smaller man. The newcomer was dressed lavishly, sported an array of rings on his fingers, and gold bracelets round his wrists. He looked harmless compared to the huge man that had greeted them, but he had small beady eyes, and a crafty sneer painted on his face.

"Welcome, you English?"

"Yes," Sam replied.

"Good, English nice people, how can I help you?" the man said. It was comforting that he had started with a compliment, but it was hard to tell if he meant it.

"We were sent here by a friend of yours, Mustafa, he runs a brothel. He said I might be able to buy a boy here?"

"Yes, yes, follow me sir, we have many many fine boys, you find nice one here, come."

Sam and Henry followed the man down a narrow corridor. Sam's heart was beating fast now, something inside him kept telling him that his boys were close. The group walked a short distance, before heading into a reasonable sized chamber lit by a number of skylights high in the roof. Positioned at one end of the room was a large group of boys, all sat on the stone floor. As he entered the room, the slave trader clapped his hands and shouted something to the boys, causing the whole group to quickly stand up.

"Look, look, boys good, yes," the trader shouted excitedly as Sam and Henry approached the group. The kids were all chained by their ankles to the boy next to them, and were dressed in nothing more than a skimpy loincloth, which barely covered their crotches and asses. Yet Sam was not looking at their bodies, he was quickly scanning their faces, in the desperate hope that one of the faces would belong to John, Billy or Jamie. There were some thirty or so boys in the group, and it was a couple of minutes before Sam was certain none of the ones he sought were there. During the time the two clients regarded the boys, the trader was watching them. If he saw for a moment that the stare of one of them lingered for a while on one of the boys, he lunged forward to pull the loincloth of the child in question. As the pathetic garment dropped to the ground, the boy so exposed made no attempt to cover himself, no doubt aware of the consequences of such an action.

"Boys good yes, you like?"

The boys were very good indeed, but Sam found it difficult to hide his disappointment.

"Are these all you have?" he asked.

"Yes, at moment, they best in town."

"They are very pretty, but I was hoping to find a boy with blond, I mean golden hair."

"Ohh, golden hair very rare, but wait." The trader pushed into the group and pulled out a young boy of around 12 or 13, with light sandy hair. He looked Eastern European, and may have had blond hair when he was younger, but it had darkened now.

"Nice yes", the slaver said, and pulled the boys loincloth off his body. He twisted the child round to shown Sam his shapely behind. "His cheeks like soft pillow."

Sam had to suppress a smile when the man used the identical simile as the brothel keeper. He guessed this town only had one English teacher.

"He is very nice, but I wanted a boy with light gold, yellow hair, do you have any for sale?"

"No, sorry sir, I do not. They very hard to get, very expensive. About four, five weeks ago, I have many, but very popular, all sold now. Yet boys I have now also good, they give you much pleasure in bed, they as good as golden boys."

Sam was mentally working out what the trader had just said. Based on how long his boys had been away, and how long it would have taken them to reach Turkey, it was possible that they arrived here four or five weeks ago. If so, then the boys the trader was referring to could be the English boys the Turk had kidnapped. He knew his three were blonds, but if the Turk had a taste for that type, Sam guessed many of the boys taken could have been blonds as well. The thought that his boys had been in this building just a few weeks ago, and then sold, filled the man with excitement.

"Do you know where the boys are you sold? I will ask the new owner if they will sell to me, I will pay a good price."

"No, sorry, I keep no records of buyers, you understand why," a hint of hesitance had entered into the trader's voice.

However Sam was not to be deterred. "Please try and remember, I will pay you for the information."

"I help you if I can, but I remember not, sorry sir, I have bad memory."

"I remember, I can help the gentlemen." Suddenly the three men looked over in surprise at the source of the voice. A young Turkish slave boy, stood at one end of the group had spoken, and repeated, "I remember master, I can help." Sam and Henry stared at the boy in some surprise, not just because of what he had said, but due to the excellent English in which he had delivered it. The trader however did not look at all pleased, he strided straight up to the boy and raising his hand clouted him so hard the poor child stumbled to his knees. Twice more the man slapped the boy's head whilst unleashing a torrent of verbal abuse in rapid Turkish. The poor boy made no attempt to defend himself, but large tears started rolling down his soft cheeks. Henry, his fists clenched moved towards the trader, the old soldier ready to dish out to the man a dose of his own medicine. However, Sam caught his arm and pulled him back. Also in the room was the huge man that had let them in, plus another guard, who though not so big, was equally mean looking. Sam knew better than to start a fight in such circumstances.

"I so sorry about boy's insolence, I punish him," the trader said, as he returned to his clients.

"No that is okay," Sam said, "Let him speak, I want to here what he has to say."

"No, no, boy stupid, boy know nothing."

"All the same, I want to hear him speak, I will pay you," Sam persisted.

"No, he stupid," the trader shouted back. The initial fawning friendliness had gone from the man's voice and was replaced by an icy edge.

"Very well, then I will buy the boy, he is in fact just what I am looking for. How much do you want for him?." Sam realised how stupid this sounded, after all the boy's hair was almost black, and he had a dark complexion, very much the opposite of the blond European type he had just been claiming he wanted so much.

"Boy already sold, not for sale," the slaver snapped back.

Sam now understood he had made a mistake in pressing the man about who he had sold the boys to. Clearly client confidentiality was important for a man in this business, and Sam was nave to expect him to reveal all to an unknown foreigner. An icy silence fell on the room, broken only by the low sobs of the poor boy that had been slapped. Sam was unsure of what to say next, but it was the trader that spoke first.

"You must go now, leave," He yelled something at his guards, and the two men approached Sam and Henry, no doubt to escort them out. Sam realised it was pointless to say anything else, and decided they best get out whilst they still could. Marched quickly back to the main entrance, the two men were firmly shown the door, which was slammed shut and locked behind them.

Sam was bitterly disappointed at how things had gone, but Henry was visibly shaking with rage.

"That demon, that bastard," the Scot yelled, "To chain up all those sweet laddies like caged animals, it shunna be allowed."

"Calm yourself my old friend, we are not in a position to do anything about it."

"What! Well damned if I will stay quiet," Henry growled. "Come on, let's find the police in this wretched town, and get this place closed down. Yer said yerself that the Turk we met on board the ship told yer that slavery was illegal in this country."

"Henry, let's be realistic," Sam said, raising his own voice now. "Do you really believe that the authorities are not aware about this establishment? Come now, we, a couple of foreigners knowing not a word of the local language, managed to find this place in the handful of hours we have been here. It is in the centre of town, not well hidden out in the country. For all we know the chief of police is that bastard's best customer. No, we have to remember why we are here. With just three men, we can hardly expect to single-handedly stamp out slavery in a foreign country. No Henry, I am here for one reason, one reason alone, I want my boys back, and nothing, nothing, is going to get in my way of that. When, or if, I get them back, then we can notify the British embassy in Ankara, and see if they can put pressure on the Turks to clean up their act."

"Aye, Sammy, yer right," Henry said, his voice quieter now as he calmed down. "Maybe I'm just getting soft in me old age, but the pitiful cries of that poor wee laddie tore at me heart."

"Well him at least we may be able to help," Sam replied. "Come on, let's get back to the hotel, I have an idea."

When Sam and Henry walked back into the hotel, they found Frank and Charles waiting for them in the lobby, sipping at some drinks whilst they sat in some tatty but comfortable chairs. Moving into the lounge, Sam first got Frank to report what they had discovered.

"Well me and young Charlie here have had some success. I told everyone I was an American merchant with a lot of luxury goods from the states to sell. That way it was clear why I wanted to get in contact with the rich men of the area. Our biggest problem was not surprisingly language, most of the tradesman and the like we tried to talk to did not know much English, but there was a few. Actually some could speak no English, but did know some French. Now personally, I don't speak more than a few words of French, but fortunately Charles solved that, he's a clever kid your son."

Frank patted the boy on the head, and the child beamed in reply. Charles knew perfectly well he was brighter than most kids his age, but like any child, he still lapped up the praise.

"Well despite these problems, we had some success," Frank continued. "After passing a small payment to those we spoke with, we normally got a few names, and some addresses out of them. Before we headed back, Charles had recorded about two dozen rich locals in his notepad."

"Good work," Sam said, "Any of those called Abdul?"

"That seems to be a popular name in these parts. Two were called that as first names, but another three had it as a middle name. Jesus, one guy had four middle names. Besides, from what you told me. I thought the kidnapper was using a false name."

"True, but he may have only been changing his surname, he may have found it easier to use his original first name. Well it is all we have to go on, so we will check out the two Abdul's on your list first. By the way, did you find out if any of them was in to boys?"

Frank chuckled at the question. "Well it ain't exactly a question you pop in polite conversation, but hell, I've never been very polite. Of those we asked, some didn't know, or refused to say anything. When we did get a reply, it was clear it would have been easier to ask, who was not into boys. Mostly we got laughs, or obscene gestures implying the rich men round here often messed with the younger members of their own sex."

Sam thanked Frank for his good work, then reported to him and Charles what they had discovered throughout the afternoon. Sam told them just about everything, but decided to skip the fact that they had had sex with a couple of brothel boys, deciding it was not really relevant. When he got to the end, he calmly finished by stating to the American.

"Frank, I want you to buy a slave."

The gunman at first looked a bit stunned, then burst out laughing. "Well I thought I might be asked to shoot a few people to earn my pay, but I never expected to be asked to buy a slave. Hell Sam, I thought we were here to liberate some boys, not acquire some."

Sam, clearly annoyed at the American's joviality, retorted.

"We don't have much choice, I need to talk to that boy. I don't actually approve of buying people you know."

"Really, you being a landowner and all, I assumed you had a fair few people in your possession back home."

"I don't have any slaves at all!" Sam returned, his voice raised. "True, I have some tenants, but they are not my slaves, they are free to leave as they wish."

"Really, and go where? As I see it, a tenant, particularly if he owes his landlord money, is no freer than many slaves."

"Nonsense. Jesus, this is a bit much coming from a man that has actually fought a war to preserve slavery."

"What are you babbling about?" Frank said, his turn to get annoyed now.

"You were in the civil war I heard, on the confederate side, fighting so you could keep your precious black slaves."

"Well that's shows your ignorance of our history, the war was about much more than that, the south was fighting for its freedom."

"Gentlemen, Gentlemen please," Henry yelled, coming into the argument, "We on the same side here, now we have enough problems without you two arguing like schoolboys."

Charles giggled to himself at the sight of the old man scolding the two adults.

"You're right Henry, sorry," Sam said rather sheepishly. "Anyway we need to talk to that slave boy, and the only way to do that it is buy him. After we have questioned him, he will be free to go. Will you do it Frank?"

"Of course, but you will have to give me the money."

"Naturally. Anyway you can not go today, that would look too suspicious, so you can do it tomorrow."

With everything agreed, it was starting to get late, so they went and had a meal in the restaurant then retired early, all four of them feeling tired, as they had not got much sleep on the crowded boat the night before.

Chapter 22
An Unusual Purchase

As it happened, the Englishman had nothing to fear. It was true that the relationship between the two men was strained, but that was to be expected given both men had strong personalities. In any case, Frank was not the kind of man to go back on an agreement, and in addition, he had grown rather fond of Charles, and he knew how important it was to the boy that he got his brothers and friend back.

After meeting up with the brute that manned the door, the trader greeted the American shortly afterwards, though the man initially viewed the newcomer rather suspiciously.

"English?" he asked.

"No, definitely not, I'm an American, from Texas."

Frank deliberately exaggerated his Southern American speech to reassure the trader, though he was careful not to overdo it, as the Turk would not have understood a word he said.

The initial frown on the trader's face was instantly wiped away with a broad smile.

"Welcome friend, American's are good people, they believe in trade and freedom." In other words, Frank thought, the trader liked them because they weren't interfering bastards like the British. "How can I help you friend?"

"I have just arrived in town, and will be living here for a short while as a trade representative of the company I work for. I was looking to buy a boy, you know, to help me around the home, and for other comforts. I was told you could help me."

"Really, who told you?"

This was a tough one, he could hardly tell him it was Sam. Fortunately, Frank had not lived through numerous gunfights without being a quick thinker, so he told the trader one of the names he and Charles had been given the day before. Frank had remembered the name, because when they had asked the street trader who gave it them, if the man was into boys, he had laughed out loud, and indicated the man cared for little else. The American was thus praying the trader had heard of him.

"Ahh, good man, is he well?" the trader replied. For all Frank knew, or cared, the man was six foot underground, but he said.

"Very well, he sends his greetings to you."

"Very good, and how is last boy I sold him?"

"Great, a fine fuck that one." Frank was hoping this conversation would end soon, as he was in dodgy territory, having to make all this up.

"Yes, I knew he good. Please follow me, I have many boys also very good."

The slave trader led Frank to the same room Sam and Henry had seen the day before, and with a clap of his hands, the hapless boys once more stood up for inspection by the prospective client. As he first saw the boys, Frank was rather shocked at the inhumane way the poor kids were chained up all day. He felt rather awkward about what he was about to do. He had never purchased a slave before, so he was unsure how he was suppose to act. Frank's family had been too poor to own any slaves of their own, though he remembered seeing plenty when he was a boy growing up. After the civil war, all the slave markets were closed down, so Frank only had experience in buying horses, and here he was now about to buy some boy flesh.

"Very good, eh, you see one you like, you tell me."

Frank perused the boys, he was not certain which one was the boy he had to purchase, though Sam had given him a good description. Besides, he did not want to immediately ask for that boy, even when he had found him, since that would look too suspicious. His eyes lingered a while on a very young boy just in front of him, he couldn't have been more than 8 or 9, and he had a cute face and a mop of curly brown hair.

"This boy very nice," the slaver said, when he saw Frank staring, and immediately yanked the young lad forward, at the same time ripping off the small loin cloth from around his waist. "Look, he healthy boy, much beauty, yes." The trader spun the boy round, and showed his client the boy's little round ass. "His bottom cheeks soft like pillow, feel them."

Frank thought, if he is playing a pervert, he might as well act like one. Thus he stuck his hand out and gave the kid's ass a good grope. It was certainly lovely and soft, though unlike any pillow Frank had slept on.

"He is very nice, but I want one that can do the cleaning and things, maybe even cook. So I think this boy is too young."

"Yes sir, you correct, at this age their main use is for pleasure. Hmmm, ah, maybe this one." The trader pulled forward a negroid boy that was standing close to the young boy Frank had rejected. The boy was as black as the night, so was undoubtedly from Central or Southern Africa. He was one of the bigger kids in the group, Frank guessed he was in his mid teens, with well developed arms and shoulders, though he was still not yet fully grown.

"Black boys good workers, he strong boy, can clean and cook. He good in bed too."

The trader removed the boy's loincloth, and Frank was astounded to see the size of the teen's assets. Although he had only a few tuffs of pubic hair, he was almost as well hung as a full-grown man, his long black cock dangling low between his legs.

Frank stepped forward and started checking the boy over, feeling his arms, checking out his teeth (something he always did when buying a horse), and ensuring the kid was in good health. The negro boy stood passively throughout the inspection, staring straight at the American, with no fear in his eyes. Frank spun the boy round, and spent a few moments running his hands over the teenager's straight back, and his firm fleshy backside.

"Yes, that is more like what I want," Frank exclaimed. "However, I realise it is unlikely, but I was wondering if you might have a boy that could speak some English. I'm sorry to say I speak none of your tongue, so it would be nice to be able to communicate with the boy, and have him help me in my dealing with other people."

A broad smile spread over the trader's face, and he led Frank down the group of boys, and pulled one forward near the end. The kid was a good deal smaller than the black boy Frank had just been inspecting, the American thought he was probably 11 or 12 years old. He was quite thin, with a dark complexion, black, slightly curly hair, and definitely looked like the local boys, so was probably Turkish. When the child raised his face to look at Frank, the man noticed that one of the boy's eyes was black, and he had an ugly looking bruise just above this. The kid fitted the description Sam have given him perfectly, and from what he had heard the trader did to him, Frank knew where the bruise and black eye had come from.

"Boy fell, but he heal quickly," the trader explained. Sure he did, you bastard, the American thought. "Come child, show the gentleman you can speak English."

"I speak good English, sire, I will serve you very well," a rather weak, scared little voice said. The American smiled warmly at the boy, and the young kid smiled back, his large brown eyes almost pleading the man to buy him. Frank had found what he came for, but he was careful not to appear over enthusiastic.

"Hmm, I don't much like buying damaged goods. Still, as he speaks English, that is good enough compensation. Very well, I am interested, what do you want for him?"

The slave trader leaned over to Frank, and whispered a number into his ear.

"How much!" Frank immediately yelled, though it was simply a ploy. In fact the number meant nothing to him, as he had not learned the exchange rates, Sam being the one that had exchanged money. However he knew that the cash the Englishman had given him easily covered the price that the slaver had requested, but Frank was never one to decline a good haggle. Even though it was not his money, Frank had his professional pride, and so the two men sparred back and forth until they eventually settled on a figure which was about forty percent of what the Turk had first asked for.

The trader informed Frank that the boy would be cleaned up and delivered to him soon, but in the meantime the two of them would retire to his office to sort out the payment. As Frank left the room, he realised that the boy he had just bought had never had his loincloth removed, the trader obviously hoping the boy's language skills would sell him, rather than the beauty of his appearance. All the same, he had quite a slim, sexy little body, and Frank was a little disappointed he had not seen all of it. Jesus, he thought to himself, I am becoming a real pervert. Besides, he had to remember that he was buying the boy solely so they could question him, not as a sexual plaything.

Once in the slave trader's personal office, Frank handed over the agreed price, and the seller stored the money away in a small safe. Frank even received a receipt, which was a surprise given what he had just purchased. He wondered if the man offered a money back guarantee if the goods were not satisfactory. With the main transaction over, the trader bid the American to take a seat whilst they waited for his boy to be made ready. Frank was impatient to be off, but it seemed like an age that he was sat there listening to the horrid little man prattling on about how much he loved America. He claimed to have a cousin that had emigrated there, and had written to him about the success he was having. The trader even mentioned that he was hoping to acquire a few American boys, and Frank had to resist himself from jumping over and throttling the man as he told him to keep his dirty hands off America's kids.

Eventually the huge brute came in and exchanged some words with his boss.

"Ah, your little slave is ready. I hope we will meet again, perhaps you want another boy later. If you want, you can swap your boy for another, exchange price cheap. Okay, till next time."

Not bloody likely, Frank thought as he left the office, he never wished to see the wretched man again. The huge guard led Frank off to a further chamber, and inside this was his boy slave. The young kid was dressed in a plain white tunic and some equally ordinary brown trousers. Frank could tell he had been given a rapid bath, as the boy's hair was still wet. As the man walked up to the child, he was quite surprised to see that his feet were bound with rope, and he had been handcuffed. Noticing the key in the guard's hand, Frank immediately demanded the man hand it over. He was given it without complaint, though the guard looked bemused as the American busied himself removing both the hand and leg shackles.

"You will not try to run away will you boy?" Frank asked the child as he worked.

"No master."

Once he had finished releasing the youngster, the guard led both of them to a side entrance, and they passed through. Frank immediately took a firm grip of the boy's hand, and started walking quickly away. The man was conscious that the kid might try to bolt for it now he wasn't tied up, which was highly undesirable until they had at least had a chance to question him. Thus he did not loosen his hold on the child as they walked. However the young Turkish boy made not the slightest attempt to break free, and if anything was squeezing the hand of his new master even tighter than the man was his. He simply walked beside Frank, like any son would with his father, though the young lad had to occasionally start trotting to keep up with the long strides of the tall American.

Frank kept glancing at the boy, and could almost see the child's spirits rising with every step they made away from the dreaded slave trader. Eventually Frank stopped, held the youngster by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes.

"I want you to understand that I am not going to hurt you," Frank claimed. "I just need to talk to you, okay." The youngster smiled up at the man, and thanked him.

"What's your name boy?"

"Agi, Master."

"Well my name is Frank, not Master, how old are you Agi?"

"13."

The American was a bit surprised, as he thought he looked younger than that, but then he was hardly an expert on young male development. Frank took the boy's hand again, and they talked as they set off at a more leisurely pace down the street.

"Tell me Agi, how come you speak such good English?"

"My first master was an English merchant, he ran a business bringing in goods from Britain and Europe. I was only seven when he bought me, and I was with him for over five years. I learned all my English from him."

"Jesus, you did start being a slave boy young, where are your parents?"

"My mother died when I was a baby, and my father was very poor. He sold me to a trader when I was five years old. I don't remember anything about him now." Well if he sold his own children Frank thought, he was hardly worth remembering.

"Do you have any relatives near?"

"No Master."

"Frank please, and why did the Englishman sell you."

"He did not, he liked me very much. However he had big debts, and one day, when men came to collect the money he had to run quick. He left Turkey, but unfortunately I was out on an errand for him when he was forced to run, so he could not take me with him. The men who he owed money then sold me to the slave trader."

"You've had a tough life kiddo," Frank said, and gently roughed the youngster's hair.

"Yes Master."

"And stop calling me Master."

"Sorry Master."

Frank decided to give up on that one for a while.

When Frank and Agi walked into the hotel lobby, Sam was stood there waiting for them, the anxious look on his face wiped away when he saw the American had been successful. The young boy looked surprised to see the Englishman again, and was initially a bit frightened, as the last time he had tried to speak to Sam he had ended up being whacked very hard. He moved closer to Frank, and all three of them quickly went up to Sam's room, where Charles and Henry were waiting.

Henry had advised Sam not to start questioning the boy straight away, to avoid scaring him. Thus he was simply introduced to everyone, and offered some drink and sandwiches they had in the room. As the boy munched hungrily on the food, Charles sat next to him, and chatted away to him in the endless way only he can. The new boy looked a bit overwhelmed being amongst so many new people, but he answered Charles' questions when required, and remained civil and polite.

Eventually Sam could bear it no longer. He had virtually worn a trench in the carpet where he was pacing back and forth, getting increasingly impatient to find out what the boy knew.

"Agi, do you remember telling us that you knew who the golden boys were sold to, is that true."

"Well not all of them sir. There was a lot of them when we were sold at the auction a few weeks ago." Sam got the boy to go back slightly and describe everything about the auction.

"And all the blond haired boys were sold."

"I think so, in fact most of the boys were sold that day, I think the trader only kept about twenty, as they did not fetch the price he had hoped, I was one of the last to be sold, so I saw most of the sales."

"Hang on, if you was sold at the auction, why is it that you were still at the traders when we visited yesterday?" Henry asked.

"Oh, that is because my new Master was very old. I had only been with him for one week, when he died when he was in bed with me. The doctor said he had a weak heart, and said I was too active for him. Anyway his son, who inherited me, did not want to keep me, so he sold me again to the trader."

It was a tragic story, but the listeners had to stop themselves laughing when they pictured the dirty old man having a heart attack as the pretty young Turkish boy rode his cock.

"Do you remember what all the blond boys looked like?" Sam asked the boy.

"Some of them sir, I have a good memory for faces."

"Can you describe them to us?" Frank continued, "How many were there, and what ages were they?"

"I did not count them Master, but I think there was about ten, some were young, others were older than me."

As the boy tried to describe the ones he remembered, Sam pulled out the two photographs he had of his sons. He showed the one of Billy, and asked Agi if he recognised the boy.

"Sorry sir, he is nice boy, I would have remembered him, but I did not see this one."

Sam was obviously disappointed, but handed the youngster the picture of John. Agi stared a while at the picture, it had been taken when John was 13, but it was still a good likeness.

"Yes sir," the boy answered excitedly, "I have seen him before, he was at the auction, I remember him well." Both Charles and Sam jumped up in joy when they heard this, and Charles hugged his father, tears starting to form in his eyes. Agi looked a bit surprised, so Frank explained that the boy in the picture was Sam's son, and they were looking for him.

"You said you remembered him well," Sam said after he had calmed down, "Why was that?"

"Oh, partly because he was one of the oldest and tallest of the boys there. Yet what I remembered best about him, was that of all the boys from Europe, he looked the least scared. Many of the children were crying, but he did not, he was very brave, you must be a proud father sir."

Sam was very proud to hear this, and was pleased to know that his eldest son seemed to be holding himself together, despite his dreadful ordeal. Yet somehow Sam had always known that John would be brave, and would try to look after Jamie and his little brother. However the fact that Billy had not been at the auction troubled Sam, and since he did not have a photo of Jamie, then it was difficult to verify for certain if he had been there or not. Still, at least he now knew that John had been in this town, and it was reasonable to assume the others came here too, and are hopefully not that far away. Sam then asked Agi probably the most important question of the lot.

"Agi, do you remember who it was that bought my son?"

The young lad screwed up his face in concentration as he tried to remember, suddenly his head popped up, and he said.

"Yes, I remember, I remember his face."

"Do you know his name?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Sorry sir, I do not remember names as good as I remember faces. But I do remember that my first master and me visited his house a few times. Many men were there, they played cards most of the time, but they played with me some of the time as well. I served many men those nights, it was hard work." It was possible to detect a sense of pride in the youngster as he said this.

"Do you know where the house is?"

"No, sorry, it was about two years ago when I last went, and then I did not take much notice of where we went, I just followed my master."

"Do you know anyone that may know?"

Agi paused for a while as he thought, then suddenly brightened up. "Yes, I remember that we went with a friend of my master on one occasion, he is a shopkeeper in town. I saw him not so long ago, so I think he still has the shop, he will know where the place is, I can take you to him."

The thought that someone in town knew where the man that was holding John lived was enough for Sam to lose interest in any further discussion. Thus, without further delay, the little group left the hotel and followed Agi to the shop of the man they hoped to get the information from. It was midday at this point, and the shop was closed for lunch, so they waited in a small caf, though poor Sam was going mad with impatience. Eventually someone arrived to open the shop, but it was unfortunately just a minion, who informed them the owner would be along later. After a further frustrating hour, the man himself arrived. Only Sam and Agi talked to the man, though since the shopkeeper knew no English, the young Turkish boy had to translate for Sam. At first the man appeared reluctant to talk, saying he had not seen the man they seeked for over a year, and could not remember his name, or exactly where he lived. Only after Sam offered him a generous payment did his memory improve, though he still seemed reluctant to say much. However, the sight of the money was enough to overcome this, so he told Sam the man was called Madir Maaronner, and he gave Sam the address, and told them how to find it. Agi suddenly remembered that the man was indeed called Madir, and with this confirmation, Sam was hopeful the shopkeeper had told the truth.

With this information the group commandeered a taxi, and set off immediately to the place. It was a longish journey, and took them quite some way out of town, but eventually they got to the correct street, and when they had worked out which house it was, Agi got very excited.

"That's it sir, I remember now, it has a big room at the back where they had their card games. There is also a small pond in the garden behind. They let me play in it sometimes, probably because they liked to see me paddle in the water without my clothes on."

It was now Sam's turn to get excited, as he contemplated how close his eldest son could be now. The house was different to what he had imagined. He thought a man rich enough to buy slaves would have a mansion. It was certainly not, though it was still a fair sized and smart place, well looked after, and one of the nicest on the street. However, the lack of security surprised him as well, there was no wall or fence around the grounds, something he would have expected if there were boys inside being held against their will.

As there was no obvious activity around the house, Sam decided for the direct approach, and so himself, Frank and Agi, headed for the main entrance and knocked at the door. Charles and Henry stayed in the cart with the taxi driver, to keep watch in case anyone tried to slip out of the house. Sam's heart was beating fast, from both the fear of what could happen, and the thought that John himself might open the door. Frank was a lot calmer, but he checked that his revolvers, which were located on his person, were not snagged on any of his clothing.

An elderly woman answered the door, and Sam spoke to her through Agi. He asked her if the master was at home. The woman looked surprised to see two foreign men at her door, but informed them that there was no master, only a mistress, who lived alone in the house. The old woman herself was a housemaid. Sam was rather surprised at this news, and asked if they could talk to the mistress. She left the men standing at the door, then returned to say they could come in. As the small group walked inside, Agi told a confused Sam that this was definitely the house he had been in before, though the furniture and stuff looked different to what he remembered.

Following a brief conversation with the mistress, Sam learned that a man called Madir Maaronner used to live in the house, but he had moved away about a year before. She had heard he had inherited his uncle's house and fortune, and had moved there. Unfortunately she did not know the new address, though she thought it was somewhere in the city.

Enquiries to houses nearby about the whereabouts of their old neighbour where also unsuccessful, no one knew that much about the man. They knew he had a couple of men who worked for him, and he had two live in boy servants, who were 15 or 16 at the time he left. They remembered that he frequently entertained guests, though he kept himself to himself, and had little to do with the people that lived around him.

Although he was obviously disappointed, Sam was at least pleased that some of the things about this Madir character did fitted in with what he had expected. He wondered if the boy servants the neighbours spoke of, were in fact slaves the man had purchased. In any case, he had to find out where the man lived now, and so they returned to the shop keeper, and Sam demanded to know Madir's current address, as the information he had paid for was not correct. The approach did not go down well, as the shopkeeper did not like Sam's attitude, and he simply said that if Madir had moved, he had no idea where he was now.

Although annoyed, Sam realised he would learn nothing more, and left. He asked Agi if the boy knew of anyone else that might know about Madir, but the child shrugged and said he was sorry. It was getting late, so they found what the hotel had told them was the best restaurant in town, and had their evening meal. Agi looked most confused to be sat in a comfortable chair as the well-dressed waiters placed various delicious foods before him, he was more used to serving than being served. It was clear that the staff did not approve of the young boy, as they could tell from his clothes that he was not the child of anyone wealthy. However he was with some foreigners, so they said nothing.

After the meal, the group returned to the hotel lounge for some drinks as they discussed their options for the next day. Sam was sure that having got a name, it would not be difficult to find out an address, so they went through the various options to discover this. Later on, they talked about what they would do once they had hopefully found where John was being held. Sam favoured simply buying his son back, but Frank thought it was stupid to have to pay for your own child. It was clear the American preferred a more forceful option, going in with guns blazing if need be. As the evening wore on, Henry said he was tired, and retired to bed. Charles was also a bit weary, and had stopped talking, which was unusual for him. Instead he was leaning on his father with his eyes closed, listening to the two men debate the strategies. Agi too had stopped listening to the chatter, but his ears pricked up immediately when he heard his name.

"What about Agi?" Frank asked. "I guess we have learnt everything we can from him, we don't need to keep him any longer."

"Hmm, I guess you're right, we don't need him so much now," Sam replied.

The young Turkish boy looked absolutely distraught when he heard this. He immediately threw himself at the feet of Frank, and pleaded with him.

"Please Master, please do not send me back to the slave trader, I can serve you still."

Frank looked rather stunned at the outburst, and he looked down at the youngster, whose large brown eyes were starting to fill with tears. He moved quickly to reassure the boy.

"Of course we will not, that would be absurd. No quite the opposite. Agi, we are setting you free. Do you understand, you are no longer a slave, but a freeman. You no longer have to slavishly obey some master's wishes or whims, but free to do what you like, and go where you like."

Yet contrary to the expectations of both men, who though that freedom was the greatest gift anyone could bestow on another, Agi did not jump up in joy, instead he hung his head in dejection. It was not that the idea of being free was something he had never thought about, but at his tender age, it was the awesome responsibilities that came with freedom that he feared. Clearly as a slave, Agi had been mistreated on numerous occasions, but he had always had clothes to wear, food to eat, and a roof over his head. As he had gone about the town fulfilling his master's errands, the boy had often seen street boys, loitering around, or playing amongst themselves. Yet although these children were free, unlike himself, he had never envied them. Whilst Agi dreamed to be free when he was a man, right now, the thought of having to look after himself, scared the life out of him. When he raised his head to look at Frank, two large tears were trickling down the boy's soft cheeks, and he said, in a quiet pitiful voice.

"I have no where to go."

Those few words, coupled with the boy's wretched demeanour were enough to show Sam and Frank that the consequences of buying a boy were far more than what they had imagined. At first, the absurd idea had justified itself solely because they needed information from the slave. The men had always assumed the boy would be off the minute he had been granted his freedom. Yet now they realised that he was not like some normal purchase, that could be cast aside when it was no longer needed. They had purchased a human life, and like it or not, they had assumed responsibility for it.

Seeing Frank's confused face, Agi flung his arms round the American's legs and pleaded with him.

"Please do not send me away Master, I'm a good boy, I'll do whatever you want, I work hard, I clean, and cook a bit." The boy started to frantically scrub at the man's boots with his sleeves in an effort to clean them. Frank was not the most soft hearted of men, but even he could not avoid being touched by the boy's desperate pleas. He laid his hand on the child's head, and turned to Sam.

"Well I guess we could hire him as our interpreter, God knows the last couple of days have shown we need one. What do you think? A dollar a month, plus board and lodgings, is that fair?"

Sam nodded his head in agreement, and smiled down at the young boy. It was true that the kid had been very useful when they had met people that they could not communicate with, and it would be foolish to lose that.

"That's settled then," Frank said, and then turning to the boy at his feet he dragged him up and sat him down on the sofa beside him. "Well young Agi, will you join out little group on the quest for three missing boys, and be our interpreter? I hope a dollar a month is fair compensation for your work."

Agi neither knew, nor cared what a dollar was worth. He was not being abandoned, and that was all that mattered. He thanked Frank endlessly for allowing him to stay.

"Good, well with that's settled, I'm off to bed," Sam said, "Come on Charles."

"Where will Agi sleep?" Frank asked.

Sam looked down at the boy, who was currently clutching on to the American's arm.

"Well since he obviously thinks of you as his master, I will leave it in your capable hands."

"What! look, he doesn't have a master, or if he does it is you, you gave me the money after all."

"Try convincing him of that, goodnight."

It was true that Agi had never once referred to Sam as Master. Even if Frank had said he used Sam's money, it was unlikely Agi would have believed him. In the boy's experience, a rich man used his minions to buy many things for him, like food or other provisions. Yet when it came to choosing someone that would share his bed, the master always turned up in person.

"Charlie, what will I do?" Frank said, as the young teenager got up to leave. The cheeky boy just winked at him, and said, "I'm sure you'll think of something, goodnight."

Frank shook his head, then turning to the young Turkish lad, "Come on, looks like you're with me."

Agi skipped after the man as he headed off towards the stairs that led to his first floor room. Once inside, Frank considered the options. Apart from the bed, there was a rather moth-eaten couch along one wall. It was clearly far too small for him, but Agi was a good foot and a half shorter than the tall American, so he would be able to lie across it.

"Sorry kiddo, I'm afraid you get the couch."

Agi simply stood and watched as the man fetched a spare blanket from the wardrobe and one of the pillows from his bed. These he placed on the couch, before returning to the bed and starting to undress. Once he was stripped down to just his under trousers he climbed into the bed, and glanced over at the boy. The Turkish lad had not moved, he had simply watched Frank removing his clothes, and now stared over at the man looking a bit confused.

"Come on boy, aren't you going to bed then?"

Agi immediately started to strip off, and it took him just a few seconds to whip off the two items of clothing he had one, before he was stark naked. He then bounded up to the bed, and jumped on besides a rather startled Frank, a wide grin on his face.

"What are you doing? I meant your bed," the man said, pointing at the couch. This instantly wiped the smile from the boy's face, and he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry Master, I thought you wanted me here."

"I am not your Master, and you have your own bed."

"Oh, I understand, I am too old for you."

Frank almost choked on that one.

"Don't be absurd!" he replied.

He felt guilty enough about messing around with Charles as it was, and this boy, although the same age, looked a lot younger. The kid had not got under the covers and the whole of his luscious body was in view, as Agi made no attempt to cover his modesty. Frank could not prevent himself from having a good look at the dark, luscious flesh of the child beside him. He was very thin, every one of his ribs was clear to see across his smooth chest, and there was no fat at all round his stomach. As Frank's eyes moved further down, he noticed that the boy's penis was little more than an inch long, and the small piece of flesh curled on top of his round hairless ball sack, which had not yet dropped. Unlike Charles, the boy had clearly not even started puberty yet, though given the much superior nutrition the English boy had had during his 13 years, the wide disparity in development was not too surprising. Frank admired the boy's long lean legs, then looked back at his face. Whilst Charles' possessed a slightly feminine look, Agi had very much the face of a child, with a small button nose, slightly curled lips, and big brown eyes. As he looked over the boy, Frank could feel his prick stiffening, something that would not have happened a week ago, before Charles had introduced the man to the pleasures to be had from the younger members of his own sex.

"You think I am ugly," the boy said with a whimper, and brought up his hand to cover the bruise that still marked his pretty face.

"No I do not, I think you are very cute," Frank replied, and pulled the boy's hand away. In truth the man was sure the bruise had faded even in the few hours that had passed since he had met the boy. The young certainly did heal quickly.

"Then I do not understand, why do you do not want me in your bed, so I can pleasure you."

"Because you're not a slave that must do what I desire. I have slept with enough paid whores in my time, but I will not force a mere child to have sex with me. Agi you are free now, you are not forced to have sex with anyone."

This foreigner confused the young Turkish boy, he was not used to being asked what he wanted. At least with other men he knew what to expect, he would normally be sucking them off by now. Yet he didn't know what he could do with this tall handsome man.

"I don't want to sleep on my own, can I stay with you please?"

"If you wish."

Agi did not wait for a second invitation, but jumped under the covers and immediately snuggled up to the man. The feel of the boy's warm soft flesh pushed against his body did nothing to dampen the man's erection, and he wondered if the child would notice it.

"Do you always sleep with your clothes on?" the boy asked.

"That is only my underwear, I wear it to keep me warm."

"But it is not cold," the child pointed out, and he was correct. Frank had noticed that the nights in this place were quite warm.

"You are right, and you are nice and warm too."

"Good, so I can take it off."

Without waiting for a reply, Agi pulled the covers from them both, then leaned up to start peeling off Frank's long johns. The American did not resist, though he was a bit alarmed when his rock hard cock came springing into view. Agi tossed the removed garment aside, then grinned when he saw the adult's aroused state. Now he could see the man was enjoying being near him, and Agi knew what to do. Without bothering to ask for permission, he started to wank the large organ. Frank shuddered with pleasure at the feel of the child's soft hand on his hard prick. Deciding to cast asides his doubts and guilt about what he was doing, the man closed his eyes and laid back to enjoy the feelings. One of his hands gently stroked the boy's back, before moving round to finger his small penis. The small prick was fully erect now, grown to its full two inches, and Frank was surprised how hot it felt to touch. The American's eyes flew open again when he felt something wet substituting the boy's hand, and was amazed to see his cock rapidly disappearing into Agi's young mouth. Frank could not believe how much of his eight inch penis the boy was able to cram in, and he wondered how the youngster could breathe his mouth was so full. Yet it was clear the boy had had a lifetime of practice, and could allow a man's hard pole to hit the back of his throat without gagging. The child left it inside for a while, as he savoured the taste, then he began a slow sucking motion, which was soon driving the man wild.

A couple of minutes of this, and Frank thought he would soon explode down the kid's throat. However he wanted this to last longer, so he pulled the boy off his cock.

"Come on mate, not so quick, don't you believe in foreplay."

The boy looked a bit confused, but did not resist as the man pulled him on top of himself, and started kissing him on the face. Agi returned the embraces and soon they were crushing their lips together, their tongues exploring the depths of each other's mouths. As they kissed Frank massaged the boy's beautiful bottom with his hands. He always enjoyed this position in sex, as he had quite a fetish for stoking nice smooth behinds. However he had not previously known that the asses of pretty boys, were more than match against their adult female counterparts when it came to softness and smoothness. However, despite this discovery, Frank did not consider that he had gone gay. He still had no sexual attraction to other men, and after his encounters with Charles, he was relieved to note that he still looked at pretty girls in the street. However, in this town the young women were generally closely chaperoned by one or more males, and always avoided eye contact with strangers. Thus Frank also found himself looking at the attractive boys as they played in the streets with their friends, or were running some errand. If one of the boys noticed the man looking, they would normally return him a charming smile.

Agi was greatly enjoying the vigorous bottom massage he was receiving, and he started rubbing his small penis against the far larger prick of the man. The kid speeded up his motions, then suddenly went very stiff, and relaxed. Frank looked into the glazed eyes of the youngster, and realised the boy had just had an orgasm. Stuck in the slaver's jail, Agi had not had any release for several days, and had been unable to hold back. For a moment Frank was worried the boy would want to end it there, leaving him in a most frustrating state. However the horny little boy was more than capable of continuing after he had cum, and was soon recovered and ready for more. Besides, the child had been brought up on the rule that sex ends when the man has fired his load, not the boy.

The two lovers kissed and caressed a bit longer, before Agi rolled off the American and onto his side, with his back to the man and his bum slightly pushed out. Frank was only too aware what the kid was offering him, and since the man was currently very aroused, the thought of fucking the boy was not an unpleasant one. Still, when he saw how small the young boy's ass looked, he wondered if the large log between his legs would go inside without hurting him. However, Frank realised that he shouldn't flatter his own assets too much. He was sure the Turkish catamite had been fucked by bigger pricks than his own, and given his life as slave, Frank doubted the boy had slept many nights in recent years without a quantity of sperm swimming around inside him.

The Turkish boy looked back, and gave the man a cheeky smile before he wiggled his bum invitingly. The American's initial reluctance quickly vanished, so turning onto his side, he shuffled into place so that his cock was in line with the cheeks of the little ass. Frank had fucked a few women in this position before, but never a boy. In his three sexual encounters with Charles, the English boy had preferred to either ride Frank, or take the man's cock whilst on his back with his legs held back. This way the two lovers could kiss, or just look into each other's eyes as they coupled. Frank pulled Agi's ass cheeks apart, and located the small brown hole hidden inside. Licking his fingers, Frank pushed one inside, and finding it slid in easily, shoved a second one along side it. The boy cooed in delight, and Frank finger fucked the youngster for a while, but was soon eager to replace the two thin poles with a single thicker one. Pushing his large cock head up against the boy's anal opening, Frank tried to stab inside, but bounced off. Determined to gain an entrance he pushed much harder, and the small anus was stretched wide as he suddenly sank the whole head and a couple of inches inside.

Agi winced at the initial entrance, and Frank was concerned he had hurt the boy. However the youngster soon relaxed, and then started slowly pushing down as he impaled himself on the American's straining shaft. Frank just stared as he watched more and more of his cock disappear into the boy, until finally he felt the soft cheeks of the child's bottom squashed up against his loins. He could not believe the little lad had taken him all in, but he could feel that his cock was buried into the boy to the very root. Curling his arms around his young partner, Frank played with the kid's small erect penis, as he remained embedded inside, enjoying the heat and tightness of the boy's anal passage. They remained locked together for some minutes, with the man caressing the boy, and kissing the back of his neck. Eventually he started to slowly fuck in and out of the youth, to start with by just pulling out a little, but building up to longer and longer strokes. Agi just sighed gently to himself, and taking this as a sign that the boy was enjoying being fucked, Frank began buggering him more vigorously. Time became a blur to the man, as his senses were soon overwhelmed with the pleasure he was receiving. He had no idea how long he had spent fucking the boy, before his passions finally peaked and he flooded the Turkish child's ass with his seed. Frank continued to wank the boy until he felt him also go over the edge, and the man was amazed the kid could orgasm whilst his most tender part was filled up with a sizeable invader.

The pair lay panting for a while, before Agi pulled himself off the man's softening penis, and turned himself round. The man and boy spent a few minutes kissing and cuddling, before the kid broke the silence.

"Thank you for being gentle on me, you were very good."

The way Frank had been pounded the kid's ass by the end, he had not thought he had been that gentle. Still, it was likely the youngster had received some rough treatment in his time.

"You were pretty good yourself kiddo."

Agi smiled, then said. "I'm pleased that you enjoyed it. I said I could be good to you, are you happy you did not send me away Master."

Frank was very glad indeed, but he tried to put the boy straight on his last word.

"Yes I am, but I'm warning you Agi, if you call me Master once more, I'll put you across my knee and spank your bare bottom."

"Ohh Master, that sounds fun," the cheeky boy replied.

Frank laughed. It was evident the child was quite a character, but the American did not have the energy to carry out his threat that night. Pulling the sheets to cover them both up, he bid the boy goodnight, and they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

NEXT PART