Chapter 3 – Chapter 3

Nicholas Reynolds had been cajoling the meaty chocolate brown giant most of the late afternoon. Their table on the terrace of the Pearmont Walmont Hotel in Gaborone, Botswanna's, Grand Palm club and casino enclave was already in the shadows of the wall of bougainvillea that marked the back boundaries of the patio. The table was inside a framework of steel tubing, with drapes that could be pulled around it, making it usable as a private cabana.

Kugiso Malema was being a very hard sell. But he had the corner on the market of all Dragobotania growing in the South Africa region. Reynolds was the buyer for the U.S.-based cosmetic firms actively trying to muscle the French out of the skin care products market.

Ryan sat between the two men, being just as demure and as enticing as he possibly could be—which was quite enticing indeed. For the first hour he had been afraid that Nicholas's research had been off—that maybe this black giant wasn't into the kinks that Ryan and Nicholas served. But as the table went into the shadows, and Ryan laid a hand on Malema's thigh, the owner of ClaroBolel enterprises turned a corner in cooperation. He also turned a corner in looking at Ryan while he was talking to Nicholas, something that the two Americans had expected him to do much before this.

"We must think of something that would sweeten the deal and make it worth my while," Malema said to Nicholas.

Both men heard Ryan gasp, but neither, with effort, turned to look at him. Malema had reached under the table and taken Ryan's hand from his thigh and placed it on his basket. Ryan had gasped at the size of what he'd found there.

Malema had been paying attention to Ryan all along. He was hard as a rock.

Still talking about the possibility of negotiations, Malema put his beefy hands on Ryan's shoulder and pushed down. Ryan got the message and slipped under the table.

When he unzipped the African's trousers and a monster cock with a thick silver ring in the bulb rolled out, Ryan gasped again. The Botswannan's skin color was a rich creamy chocolate, but his huge cock and his meaty balls were jet black.

Reynolds and Malema continued their bandying deal making as Ryan made muffled slurping and gagging sounds from under the table as he worked the giant's cock even larger.

"Do we have a deal, then?" Reynolds asked at length.

"Maybe. I fuck him now?"

"Here? Now? On the terrace of a hotel?"

"Pull the drapes around the table," Malema simply said, used to taking the direct route and finding simple answers to complex problems.

Reynolds stood, pulled the drapes, and started to leave the enclosure.

"No, I want you to stay and watch. I am fucking your son with the biggest dick you'll find in Botswanna. I want to know how badly you want this deal."

When Reynolds had sat down again, Malema pulled Ryan up from under the table and set him in his lap, facing Reynolds across the surface of the table. He pulled the Speedo Ryan had been wearing off his legs, and Ryan's eyes started to water and he was huffing and puffing as Malema set his entrance down on his bulb.

"Take his ankles and spread him farther," Malema directed.

Reynolds stood and leaned over the table and did what his was told. Malema grabbed Ryan's waist with his hands and pushed the young man down hard onto his cock.

Ryan groaned and grunted and sobbed all the way to the bottom of his sheathing. Malema's mouth went to the hollow of Ryan's neck and his hands went to Ryan's nipples, and with a low moan and a sigh of satisfaction from Malema, Ryan grabbed the rim of the table with his hands for leverage and began fucking himself on the jet-black monster cock.

"Do we have a deal?" Reynolds asked when Malema had ejaculated.

"Maybe, yes. It requires some thought still."

"Would it be a definite yes if we went to our room in the hotel? I have a strong four-poster bed in my room. And plenty of rope. I've been led to understand—"

"Where is this room?"

After Ryan had been trussed up, Reynolds interjected his body between the lumbering naked form of Malema. He, no less than Ryan, had trouble keeping his eyes off the man's jet-black cock and low-hanging balls—and, especially, that punishing silver cock ring—but he stood his ground against the man intent on getting to Ryan.

Ryan was suspended in air above the surface of the four-poster bed. He ankles and wrists were bound in fur-lined cuffs that had strong rope leads going up to the top four corners of the bed. Luckily the posts were strong and thick, something Reynolds had methodically checked out before booking this hotel. To relieve the strain on his spread-eagled arms and legs, the small of Ryan's back was slung in the pad of a black leather plow belt, and the hand holds of that were tied by ropes to the middle of the sides of the top bed frames. A silk scarf gagged Ryan's mouth. Especially after seeing Malema's equipment, Reynolds didn't want to chance that Ryan's screaming would summon curious hotel staff and guests.

"You have seen what you can have," Reynolds said to the impatient African giant. "I have the contract papers on this clipboard. Sign and you can have him."

"I can have him if I want him," Malema growled.

There was a tense moment, when the two men stood there, glaring at each other. Reynolds was sweating heavily and hoped it didn't show, because he knew, as well-muscled as he was, he wasn't a match for this black giant.

Malema broke first, though, and his mouth went to a smile. "One last twist to the deal, perhaps. I can supply you twice the amount of Dragobotania as the contract specifies—and at the same price. But I want this now, and tomorrow I want him delivered to my house—not the house you know of. Another house. My special playhouse."

There was a pregnant pause as Reynolds considered. "For how long."

"This is Africa. I like gifts. He would be your gift to me."

"You wouldn't hurt him, would you?"

Malema smiled a cruel smile and let that sink in. "I'm going to hurt him now. Tomorrow . . ." He just let that trail off.

Ryan was struggling within his bounds. It was clear that he heard what they were negotiating.

"Twice the Dragobotania? Same price per kilo?" Reynolds asked.

"Yes."

Another brief moment, punctuated by the muffled objections of Ryan. Reynolds applied the point of the pen to all copies of the contract. "Initial where I've changed the amounts and sign at the bottom, all copies. Write out the address you want him delivered to on this notepad. I'll have him there no earlier than 2:00 p.m.

Reynolds watched as Malema signed all of the copies as demanded; then he stood aside and reviewed the documents for proper signature, while Malema climbed up on the bed. Kneeling on his knees between Ryan's thighs put him at the right height, but he had to cup the young man's buttocks and roll them up to get the desired angle.

Reynolds was at the door to the corridor before he turned and took a look at the tableau on the bed. Malema had already been inside Ryan's channel, so the second time wasn't the chore that the first one was. Still, Ryan was twisting and turning his body as he was able, giving Reynolds a wild-eyed stare, and emitting muffled screams. Malema had bottomed inside Ryan's sheath before Reynolds got into the corridor. He hurried to the next door down the corridor and slipped into their second room. He arrived and clicked the remotes to the cameras trained on the bed in the other room just in time to catch Malema beginning to pump Ryan hard and deep.

When Reynolds was sure Malema was gone, he clicked the cameras off and slipped back into the hotel room with the four-poster bed. Ryan just sort of sagged down on the bed in an exhausted heap, as Reynolds released his bonds. Ryan himself untied the scarf gag with weary hands.

"That's that," Reynolds whispered. "I think you took that well. It certainly filmed well."

"Did you see that big, black cock, Daddy? Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"Liked that, did you?"

"Yeah, I liked it. I fuckin' loved it. But it made me want you." Ryan slithered to the floor at the foot of the bed and clung to Reynold's leg. "Do me, Daddy. Please."

"Let me get the film out of the camera first. And we'd better clear out to the other room. He might come back. For a minute I thought we might have a problem. He still might have another thought and come back with goons."

"Fuck me, Daddy, please," Ryan wheedled. His fingers were on Nicholas's zipper. The older man laughed and brushed Ryan's hand away."

"God, you're a slut. I'd worry about you being taken by these guys if it hadn't been all your idea. I swear you can't get enough cock. I'll do you, you can bet on that. It was hot watching the black monster at work. But it's unsafe here. We'll pull everything into the other room. That's registered to another name. If that hard-dealing bastard comes back here, he won't have the slightest idea where we've gone."

"Tomorrow . . . you wouldn't . . ." Ryan sounded a bit scared now.

"Nah. We have plane tickets for the morning. He won't start looking for us until mid-afternoon. By then he'll have my e-mail with a sample video attachment and me letting him know I know his wife's family owns most of the business. He'll keep to the deal."

"On the floor like a dog," Reynolds commanded when they got everything moved to the adjoining room.

Ryan complied, murmuring his pleasure while Nicholas used joined cuffs on his wrists and ankles. Then he secured Ryan's thighs close together also with restraints high up under his buttocks.

Ryan panted and moaned as Nicholas, naked now, knelt behind him, He separated Ryan's buttocks with his hands and started to work his entrance with his tongue. Ryan's channel was still slack from the reaming Malema had given him.

Nicholas crouched over Ryan's back close and fucked him like a dog for a few moments, both of them enjoying the tightness of Ryan's channel thanks to the strappings holding his legs close together. Ryan turned his mouth to Nicholas's and they kissed deeply.

After a few minutes, when his cock was fully sheathed, Nicholas reached for the plow belt that he'd used to give Ryan's belly support when he was trussed in the bed next door and he whipped that around Ryan's belly and grabbed the handles of the plow belt, stood, and flipped Ryan's body off the ground so that his full weight was on the plow belt holding his belly up, and the sway of the fuck was being controlled fully by the movement of Nicholas's cock in Ryan's tightly constricted channel.

Ryan murmured "Oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy," to their shared ejaculation.

Later, when they were on the bed, legs and arms entwined and mewing to each other in postcoital reverie from multiple fuckings in various inventive bondage positions, Nicholas gave a little laugh.

"What?" Ryan asked, turning his smiling face to Nicholas's for yet another sweet kiss.

"The gullibility of those guys," Nicholas said. "You and I don't look a bit alike. Yet, they have all believed that I really was your father."

"And that I was underage," Ryan whispered. "You tell them that I'm not eighteen, and right off they assume I'm underage and that they're in extra trouble. When I'm almost twenty."

"But I'll always be your daddy," Nicholas said.

"And I'll always be your little boy," Ryan answered. Then he reached over and picked up a pile of restraints. "Again, Daddy. Do me again."

"You are such a fuckin' slut," Nicholas said, as he reached for the restraints.