Hank had heard stories of white slave trade in the Middle East, but he didn’t give it much thought. He was sure it was a myth; one of the old tales of the Arabian Nights. The 6’3” Marine was not afraid of walking through the streets of foreign cities in his jeans and tight t-shirts. He knew he towered over the natives, and they admired his strength. He knew he would be safe.
Until the night he felt the sedative dart hit his mid torso, and sink into tender skin between the ribs and inject its sedative. He was on the ground before he knew it looking up at the dark hooded figure that rushed up to put handcuffs on him and put a dark bag over his head.
Ahmed loved waiting for the captives to wake up, and this one was going to be particularly spectacular… not just because he wasn’t going to like the fact that he was slated to become the male concubine of the Sultan, but because part of that process was castration. Once the big smooth American found that out… all hell would break loose.