The Capture and Sale of Sam

Sam was so excited to go to Punta Cana on spring break. He had never been outside of the United States, and now he finally had that opportunity. It quickly proved to change his life forever.

He checked into a resort with his buddies. The young desk clerk was incredibly helpful and kind, going out of his way to welcome them. He told them about a nearby beach that they should visit as soon as possible. "It's where all the young ladies congregate," he explained. The clerk seemed to read the young college men's minds. They were on the fast track to hook up with some hot babes.

As soon as Sam left the lobby, the astute clerk immediately made a covert phone call about a possible "candidato sexual". He gave a brief description: "All American good looks, 5 feet 10 inches, 175 lbs, muscles from head to toe, looks like a runway model." He went on, "I have never seen a boy this fetching. He is worth a prize!"

The boys were in a hurry. They bustled to their room. Sam wasn't normally a swim brief kind of guy. But he had heard that he could sport this type of brief in the Dominican Republic. He understood that a fair number of local men would don similar styles. And Sam knew he had the body to pull it off. His side gig as a fitness model often demanded that he pose in underwear and briefs, so he didn't mind taking a little bit of ribbing from his buddies on this trip. Besides he figured it might help him score with the ladies.

The young men changed into their swimsuits and headed to the beach, the one recommended by their hotel clerk. It was spring break, and there were plenty of gorgeous women all around! The beach was steamy and crowded. They could not get over the scenery, which was utterly breathtaking, unlike anything they had ever seen. They were so in awe, that they didn't recognize the surreptitious eyes that were gazing upon them, and upon Sam in particular.

Little did Sam know that there were lurid men on the prowl for young American boys. For this was a world that Sam did not know even existed. He would have laughed if someone told him of this underworld. Yet, he was just what they were seeking. He was the quintessential type that would fetch a good price on the auction block. He had the perfect athletic build, boyish charm, and laid-back demeanor. When the poachers saw him on the beach flashing his muscles and smile, they knew they had their target and would stop at nothing to acquire him.

The professionals had a master method. They quickly went about dividing and conquering. They diverted his buddies away with some decoy girls while another hottie caught Sam's attention. He had already purchased some bottled water, and this temptress was able to slip a roofie in with ease. In no time, he was sufficiently impaired, awake but in no control of his mental faculties whatsoever. The five poachers moved in and hustled him up, moving him into a nearby waiting van. They had no trouble in the distraction of throng of the crowd, assisting a young man up and out of the chaotic scene. His friends would have no idea where he had gone.

Once Sam was inside the van, the slavers secured massive chains to all of his limbs as he eased further into unconsciousness. They secured a collar to his neck and waist. They cuffed his wrists and ankles. Chains attached the collars and cuffs.

They needed to ensure there was no way he could escape. The collar and cuffs were additionally rigged to allow his captors, or future Master, to deliver electric shocks whenever needed. They were celebratory of their haul, admiring what a pretty bitch they had snagged, unlike any other. They groped his body for good measure, but Sam didn't stir with their aggressive touch. The noted his well-defined pecs, his six pack abs. He had muscular arms and legs. This was a boy who did not miss a day at the gym. They especially took note of his impressive buttocks. Lastly, they noted he was sporting a massive erection. Could it be that Sam enjoyed his new state of being with his captors?

One of the men insisted, "Let's rip those panties off the puta!" But another wisely pointed out that they needed to be calm and wait until they reached their destination. They had a commander to report to. For the moment, they would let the little faggot keep his swim briefs, they decided. Sam lay there totally helpless, chained, and in a stupor. His captors were on a high. They couldn't believe their luck scoring such a beautiful American pucho. It was just a pity they couldn't fuck him right then and there. If they had removed his briefs, they likely would have been unable to control the urge to gang rape him on their journey.

Sam was just starting to stir a bit when they arrived to another remote beach. He had no idea what was going on. The captors pulled him up roughly and ushered him onto a nearby docked boat where other young men were similarly shackled, some naked and some partially clothed. They chained the men all together in tandem.

Sam uttered, "What in the hell is going on here? You can't do this to me. I demand an explanation." Their response was a quick shock through his collar and cuffs. "Shut the hell up, pucho!" They kept calling him 'pucho' and 'puta', which Sam had no understanding of those words. He quickly learned that asking any questions of these savages was pointless.

Sam was scared and in pain. He tried to maintain his composure. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry. The captors continued to point out that he maintained a solid erection or boy-clit, so he must be enjoying this. Sam couldn't help but wonder if their claims were true. He couldn't be a faggot? Could he?

In short order, he saw the leader of the captors coming through inspecting each of the men, asking various questions, although he couldn't hear or understand them all. Not all of the captured men were American or English speaking. The leader was a brutish man: 6 ft 2 in tall, 220 lbs. He was someone not to be messed with. He soon learned the man's name was Armando.

Finally, Commander Armando approached him and started to grope his body all over. He behaved as though he was purchasing a cantaloupe or watermelon. He noted Sam's hard cock and commented on it. "Are you in heat, bitch?" he asked. He placed his hand down Sam's brief and began stroking his cock and milking some pre-cum from his glans. Then he tasted the liquid, "Mmm. You're sweet!"

Sam's mind was reeling. He felt a state of arousal but was utterly unsure why.

The Command continued to assess Sam. He seemed pleased, especially when feeling Sam's plump ass cheeks. He exclaimed, "Nice culo, pucho. Are you virgin?" Sam was not expecting the question and hesitated for a moment too long. "ARE YOU VIRGIN??" the man screamed.

Sam felt shocks coursing through his collars and cuffs, causing him to shout in reply, "YES, I'VE NEVER BEEN FUCKED!" The shocks stopped upon his answer to the man's question.

The man looked him in the eyes intensely and said, "You better not be lying, puta!"

Sam quivered slightly and declared, "I'm not lying. I swear."

Commander Armando said, "I will see about that myself." With that, he pulled down Sam's swim briefs just enough to expose his perfect bulbous buttocks. He parted them carefully and slowly, which surprised Sam. Armando was taking his time to adequately expose Sam's pink anal rosette. "It looks tight, pucho. How could a faggot like you be virgin? You're too God damn pretty to never have been fucked."

Armando continued to survey Sam's "cunt" as he now labelled it. After he had enough visual satisfaction, he unceremoniously drove two of his fingers deep inside Sam without any warning. He began to massage the boy's prostate which further stimulated his erection. Sam began to moan, "Oh fuck!"

"Mmmm, you like that, faggot. Don't you?" Commander Armando attested.

Sam screamed at the top of his lungs. He suddenly reached orgasm and shot load after load of cum. The captors exploded in laughter. "This bitch is horny! She shot his load with my fucking fingers!" Armando said. "We have a perfect specimen right here!"

The trader was pleased with his self discovery of Sam's "cunt". "You are tight, pucho," he said. "You must be telling the truth. You will bring an excellent premier price at the auction. My only regret is that I won't be able to bust your cherry myself." Armando replaced Sam's briefs He sternly told the other traders, "This boy's cunt is completely off limits! Do I make myself clear?" The other men begrudgingly nodded. And then Commander Armando moved on to the next slave.

The reality of Sam's situation was just now sinking in. He was going to be auctioned off as a sex slave. He just didn't think this type of world existed outside of movies or TV. How could his life have taken such a drastic turn? Moreover, how could he have had the most fulfilling orgasm of his entire life? He had fucked girls before, but it never felt like this to him, never this satisfying.

Sam's world crumbled around him, chained to fellow slaves, and finally the the tears began to flow as he became overwhelmed with despair.

When the slave traders got Sam and the other new "auction items" to the remote island, they hurried him off the boat and into a shower. They needed him clean and presentable for the auction, which was to happen urgently. The captors gave all of the slaves uniform green briefs to wear. They tossed his previous pair in a nearby incinerator.

Only serious buyers would get to see "the goods" at the time of presentation. Consequently none of the slaves were completely naked when on display at auction.

Sam saw some of the traders brutally fuck the other fellow slaves during their journey to this island. Sam was surprised that the slaves appeared to be enjoying it. He could hear them responding to be "fucked harder" and "faster". He surmised that they were gay men unlike himself. Was he the only straight man?

The young man chained right next to him was fucked by three of the slave traders on the boat trip. They couldn't seem to get enough of his "cunt" as they relentlessly plowed away at him each taking turns, one after another. The slave initially protested but then seemed to shift and mold into a different being as the men continued their efforts. The boy uttered, "Fuck me! Yes, just like that. Oh yes!"

Sam again just figured he was gay. He tried to tune it all out of his head. When Sam met eyes with one of the captors during an active fuck, the man glared back at him, "What are you looking at, faggot!?! You want me to fuck your cunt too, don't you?!" Sam just simply looked the other way and said nothing.

On the private island, Sam was taken from the shower out into a line up with the other "candidates." They were all chained together again. By now, he was well aware that these poachers were promoting him as the 'American College Virgin'. He had no idea what sort of clientele to expect at this auction. He knew that many buyers were coming in by jet or helicopter, as he witnessed an airshow spectacle unlike any he had ever seen. He imagined seedy foreign men from the Russian or Arab underworld coming to make claims on the slaves. The thoughts of those men were too disturbing to ponder.

Sam's curiosity was soon quelled when the visitors arrived. He was not surprised to see a complete absence of women among the purchasers. No, there were only "gentlemen" as the slave traders ironically labelled them. These appeared to be the wealthiest men from all continents of the globe. What surprised him was that some of the men were clearly American. When he realized this, he held out a glimmer of hope that he could explain to one of them that he was a fellow American and implore them to help him.

One of the first men to approach him was an American man, probably no older than 40. He was slim build 140 lbs, 5 ft 10 in, dark brown hair. He had a wiry neck and thin lips. He was clean-cut and gave off the politician vibe. He was wearing a tailored suit while other men were dressed business casual. Sam was certain that he was familiar to him somehow.

The man began grilling him with some basic questions, "Where are you from, boy?"

"Ohio, Sir," Sam replied.

"And how did you come into these present circumstances, boy?"

Sam said, "I was on spring break with friends in Punta Cana when I was abducted. Please, can you help me get home?"

"Hmmm," the man paused as a look of displeasure crossed his face. "Did you forget how to properly address me, boy?", the man replied.

Sam was baffled. "Oh, you mean, 'Sir'. Okay, yeah. Will you help me, Sir?"

"I did not come here to HELP a faggot. I came here to PURCHASE one," the man sneered. "You would be lucky to have me acquire you as your Master, you fucking little insolent bitch. Yet, you are a delicious looking specimen. Look at your tasty pecs. Your unforgiving mouth just begs to be fucked as well. You fill those briefs in an average sense I suppose. You seem to be enjoying yourself with your constant woody," the man observed.

"Oh that," Sam blushed. "I'm not sure why, I've been hard all day."

"Oh never mind that," the man continued. "Those buttocks! That's your true asset and selling point, you pretty bitch. I bet your virginal cunt would be ravishing to seed. I would love to take your cherry. But alas, American fags are too challenging to train and break in. They just ooze of arrogance and self-entitlement. I should stick with purchasing a Latino bitch, much less work and effort," he glinted and gleamed at Sam. "Plus I find that they are grateful compared to Americans. These Lantino cunts worship me for giving them a better life, for delivering them from their wretched surroundings," he concluded.

Sam was incensed. This man was an utter asshole! He couldn't believe the arrogance this bastard exuded. And then it dawned on him. It was all too familiar to him though. "Wait a minute," he pondered. "I know you. You're a US senator. Jesus Christ! Are you really NOT going to help me? What is wrong with you? I am an American citizen. I have rights!" Sam railed. "You are supposed to FUCKING help me!" he urged.

The man's visage changed suddenly. He backhanded Sam across the face. "Don't you dare speak to me in that tone, you faggot bitch! I ought to purchase you just to train you properly in the ways of the world. You are a sex slave now and always will be! There is no way out for you, you DAMN pathetic cunt. So get used to it! This world is marvelous and works just the way that GOD intended it. HE has rightly commanded that you serve Masters of the world and that's exactly what you will do, you pathetic bitch! Your purpose in this world has finally begun! Until now, your fucking life had no meaning!" Then he departed, leaving Sam to understand that no one was going to help him out of his predicament.

Other men came through. Some were more frightening that others. Some seemed more reasonable than others. They groped him everywhere, prodded him, checked his teeth, and tongue. The captors allowed some of the men to view his cock and ass, which was humiliating. Throughout it all, Sam felt strange. He was warm and flushed. He had a constant erection. He wondered if might have priapism, he was so aroused. He had never felt this way before.

The men were subjugating him. And it was affecting and altering his mind profoundly. They referred to his panties, asking them to be pulled down to inspect his "clittie". Many of the prospective buyers told Sam, he would have no use for his "clit", should they become his Master. "Your cunt will be the only sexual organ you need," they taunted him. "And it will be put to good use, faggot."

Sam absorbed their words and couldn't help but wonder if he was meant for this life, a life of sexual servitude. Perhaps this was his call in life.

The slavers also allowed some of the men to try out the shock device on the collars and cuffs. They promised buyers that the devices were complimentary items with the slaves. Sam didn't think there was any way he would ever get used to pain of the torture shocks. Moreover, how was Sam ever going to get used to getting fucked? By now, he thought the only way to release his erection was for him to get fucked.

After what seemed an eternity of viewing the slaves, the auction commenced. It was a fierce bidding war for Sam. The senator did not actively bid for Sam. Instead the senator, true to his word, purchased a young Latino man who was well muscled, towered easily 6 inches over the senator, spoke entirely no English, and would probably be better off not understanding any of the vile words that his new Master would utter to him. They stripped the boy naked of his brief and caged his cock in front of the assembly. The senator delighted in showing the boy and the spectators that the cock cage could deliver shocks as well. The muscular slave fell to the ground howling in pain, completely incapacitated even after the device stopped discharging. Then several slavers carried him away to the senator's awaiting aircraft. Sam felt sorry for the boy as he was hauled away to spend a potential lifetime with that scumbag asshole. The boy seemed eager to please the senator though; he was grinning ear-to-ear as they hauled him away.

For Sam, it came down to a Russian oligarch, a Saudi Arabian oil tycoon, and a billionaire mogul from Argentina who were in the final bidding. Sam sold for a price of 775,000 USD. He overheard this was a record amount collected by these slave traders. Some of them joked that they may want to re-capture the faggot and sell him again at auction. They relented, they may never have a bounty so great!

Sam was immediately turned over to his new owner, Master Sergio. He was a man in his late 50s with a formidable presence. The Master told his bodyguards to take the "pucho" to his jet. They would leave promptly for his Argentinian hacienda. For Sam, there were no introductions or greetings with Master Sergio. That would come later. Sam had a few glimpses of the Master and thought he might be able to charm him. He had some experience in the modeling industry with middle to upper age men and knew how to network with them well.

Master Sergio planned to take Sam to his new home and have him readied for his deflowering. As far as Master Sergio was concerned, Sam would never forget his cunting. He would make absolutely certain of that. The Master liked to view the faggot's first cunting as a rebirth of sorts. It was certain to be a milestone for the American faggot slave.

Sam's sexual slavery was just beginning. There was no escaping his destiny now. And in his mind, Sam was gradually starting to accept it. His sincere hope was that he could please his new Master.