2088
Chapter 20
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2088
Chapter 20
Jamaal's idea to end the day with picnic food was perfect for me. I couldn't have eaten goat or mutton that evening and had no desire to dress to go out to dinner. I was glad that the palace chef was starting to add in more chicken with his late evening meals, that would make it easier to return. Fahis decided that the American burgers were not as disgusting as he had been lead to believe, although he did smother his in mustard. He enjoyed everything else that Jamaal had prepared as well. We went to bed that night a little over-bloated but still happy to be able to hold each other. I couldn't have sucked his cock no matter what he asked, if he'd wanted to fuck me I would probably been a hot air machine.
I woke in the middle of the night needing to piss. I wasn't sure who to wake, fortunately Ahmed poked his head over the edge of the mattress wakened by my restlessness. I pulled the cover back and down to my knees.
"Is there a problem, Master?
"No, Ahmed. I just need to use your mouth." I had been dreaming, but nothing so horrendous that it would wake me
"The boy thought I needed more than just to piss, so I lay back and allowed him to take his pleasure sucking my cock. I think he was still sucking on my ten inches when I fell back to sleep. Later when I woke Fahis was feeding Ablah his morning piss. I don't know what has happened to me but that now seems the natural thing to do every morning the first thing when I wake. When I left my nice little life in Ohio I had never thought of a man drinking my piss let alone every morning or waking in the middle of the night and having a slave suck my cock after drinking my piss. Thinking of my student life, I had never thought about having my living quarters so adorned with gold that they would need one dedicated person to clean them everyday, fortunately it does not tarnish like silver.
I had been pleased when we first entered the Prince's quarters at the Royal Palace to find that Fahis had banished most of the gold furnishings we saw in the rest of the palace. You would have not thought of him as much more than a traditional playboy with the expanses of black leather and large video screens. There were the requisite gold fixtures in the restrooms and flatware in the dining room. He hadn't changed out the chandeliers that hanged from the thirty foot ceilings so they were still gold and crystal. All of the drapes were now silk rather than the gold laced wool of the rest of the palace. He felt more comfortable with less so the entire suite was rather minimalist, as was the palace as a whole when you considered the thirty plus feet between chairs in some meeting rooms. Most of the palace was gilt but I was pleased not to have the glitter where we were to live. He told me that he had chosen the smallest quarters that were available when he was elevated to his current position, it wsa still as large as an average house in my hometown.
He had managed to modernize his quarters at the palace but the house on Crete had been given to his mother upon his birth by the King's mother. The interior was decorated as she had done it 20 years earlier mostly in gold and pearl. I didn't think my Prince had changed one piece of the original furnishing since his mother died and he inherited the house. That was probably why he would say we have a house, although his mother had been executed when he turned 21 for an indiscretion, he thought of the house as theirs. Fortunately, there were only two rooms decorated to accommodate visitors, rooms that we mostly avoided. It wouldn't take much change for me to be comfortable in the house, changes we discussed that second day before heading off to explore the caves that had housed many different people over the centuries, the latest being Greek survivalists that had been driven off by the natives at my Prince's request.
We left Ahmed and Ablah at the foot of the cliffs that held the caves and began our climb with the excitement of exploration that I was not used to seeing on my Prince's face. The first cave we entered would not have been adequate for one person to live in for more than a night as the sun hit the back wall and baked the small space, but we did stay there a few minutes enjoying the touch of the each other and mashing our mouths together. I was glad to be back to climbing but missed the passionate kissing I experienced too seldom. We were on a mostly horizontal climb when I lost footing and tumbled forty feet down the cliff landing on a small flat stone step. My lower right leg was fractured in numerous place with the bone poking through the skin in two.
Fahis vomited at the sight of the blood and bone. He wasn't able to help me much before leaving me laying uncomfortably on the flat stone that wasn't quite long enough for me to rest my head and my leg. Ahmed climbed up to help me when Hafis gave him the order before going off to fetch the local rescue team.
"Master, please try to stay still. You are losing too much blood." He had tried to wrap my leg with our headdresses and apply a tourniquet but I was nearly faint and still oozing blood out over the rocks. Plus he didn't have any training.
"This may be bad, master. I remember hearing Mehmet discussing the one major difference there was between you, blood type. The Agency was tasked to replaced that fact in everything that would be seen by the Saudis but that was only a few weeks ago and they may not have accomplished the entire huge process.
"If the Saudis have his blood type in your file they could kill you, Master."
I wasn't understanding much of what he was saying but 'kill you' had registered. Who was going to kill me? Ahmed? The fall? My slave didn't make a move that I thought was intended to take my life. I heard Fahis urging the rescue team along the cliff, I wasn't laying that high or in an inaccessible place so I soon saw a strange face peering down at me, man did he have bad breath.
"We will get you to the hospital, sir. But the climb down to the beach will be painful, four of us can never be at the same level, I apologize now for jarring you on the way down.. The Prince wants us to give you a heavy dose of painkillers. You are not married yet so he can not approve that. Do you agree to a shot of Morphine?
I had always thought of people using heavy duty painkillers as weak. Yet, I agreed rapidly, I couldn't bear the pain any longer and if it was going to increase on the way to the hospital I needed help.
I woke hours later in the hospital room as ornate as the palace, with a few bandages covering the scrapes and a heavy, black cast on my right leg and foot. Pacing in front of the window were my Prince and a nurse. I tried to draw their attention, it took a couple of tries to get anything to come out of my dry mouth.
The nurse was first to my side giving me small sips of water.
"Leave." What if I still needed the service of a nurse? Where was Ahmed? Why wasn't my slave at my side?
"Who are you?" What was there to do? I decided that I felt enough towards my Prince that I could not do anything other than tell him the entire story, admitting to him that I was an American not a Kuwaiti. The tale was most likely helped by the morphine in my system.
He listened patiently while I told him the truth. He was aggravated when he learned that we had met because the Kuwaitis were trying to steal from him. When I started the whole story he had a hand on my healthy leg but by the time I finished he was up pacing again.
"Is there anything about you that is real?" I hadn't realized how the story would sound. Of course he must think I am milking him for whatever the Prince could give the Kuwaiti. I wanted to talk the way we had for the last two days but he was not about to accept the familiarity from an admitted slave.
"My Prince,...":
"I am not your Prince.
"Answer my question."
"I don't know what you think isn't me. Other than a slight adjustment here and there I look as I looked when I was acting as an assistant to my professor at Ohio State University. I know more about Islam and Kuwait than I would ever have expected. I am now a lover of men, when I was enslaved I did not know that about myself. I would not have thought I was capable of falling in love with a man until I met you ( I left out how I felt about Mehmet, but that wasn't love). By the second time we talked there was no doubt in my mind that I love you.
"Please believe me, I am in love with you." It seemed to be hopeless to beg but I had no idea what he was feeling or was going to do to me. I should have realized he wouldn't have kept me in the hospital if he meant to harm me.
"I don't know what you will have to do, but I accept that I deserve whatever it may be." I knew that there were American slaves that had been publicly executed in Saudi Arabia for far less than deceiving the Royal Prince. But had I deceived him or had Kuwait, the Agency and Mehmet's family? Did it really matter to him?
"Your slave shall be returned to you while I investigate what you have told me." the tone of anger had not lessened.
"Prince Al Sari, now that you know the truth of my life would it be possible for your office to contact my parents in Indiana and tell them where I am?" My desire to see my family was stronger than it had been the entire time I was planning the wedding. He left without saying another word, what was going to happen? Would he still care to marry me knowing I was not a Prince? Would the governments and families resolve the issues without a public international conflict? Kuwait was not a nation that could stand against the armed power of Saudi Arabia and had hoped that this marriage would help to prevent such a conflict from ever happening, now it seemed closer than ever.
"My Master. I had to tell them to check your blood type, they could have killed you with what they planned to give you. What do you need from me, Master? Are they treating you well? Have you seen the Royal Prince? Is he still going to marry love?" Ahmed was curious but he had not forgotten that he was a slave, he knelt at the side of the bed with his head to the poor linoleum that he had probably never seen before.
"Do you know what is going to happen to me? Will I be sent back to Kuwait? Or will the Prince have me sent to one of his hard labor camps?" I felt sorry for involving Ahmed in this situation, no it had been Mehmet that had done that.
"You have been returned to me, Ahmed. You are to remain my slave for now. The original conditions still exist, so if when we return to Riyadh you wish released all you need to do is walk into the embassy and tell the Ambassador. I hope that you do not but I will understand if you are afraid and wish to go where you can be free of worry.
"Until all is settled I hope that you stay with me. Jamaal will not be sufficient to serve me once we return to the Royal Quarters at the Palace, he does not have the knowledge you do." Poor Chuckles, what did they do to him when Ahmed told the truth?
"I am surprised to know that I hope that Prince Al Sari still wants to marry me and can find a way to work out the treason by Kuwait and your brother. That may mean Mehmet's death? As I remember the way the Royal Family solves its problems, I seemed to remember that having people disappear into the dessert or executed was often used when there was a chance the Royal Family was being threatened..
"Find a nurse. I need a pain killer."
He returned shortly with the nurse that had been pacing with Fahis. The man quietly checked an IV bag hanging to my side, left and returned with a new bag. A doctor joined him before he connected the bag made adjustments to the flow and started me on a new drip of Morphine. While he was there the doctor checked my scrapes removed some of the bandages and adjusted the height my leg was being held. I couldn't understand him as he spoke to the nurse, I think it was Greek, it certainly was all Greek to me.
Without speaking the nurse showed Ahmed a number of things in the room such as as the bed pan, urinal bottle and call button. They left the room for a few minutes, Ahmed returned carrying a tray of what smelled like food but tasted like shit. I had heard that anesthetics did that to your taste buds so I wasn't worried they were trying to poison me to eliminate the problem. I told Ahmed he could have the rest of the food, I was trying to talk to him but fell to sleep while he was explaining that it would only be a day or two before I was allowed up and out of the hospital.
"Have you been asleep since I left yesterday?"
"I may have been, the Morphine makes me very sleepy. But it does help with the pain."
"This is the last day you will be having it. When you awake tomorrow Ahmed will dress you for traveling to the airport and you will return to my quarters in the palace, you will not be allowed any of this type painkiller, perhaps we can find a regular one that will help. This incident may cause a war between my kingdom and Kuwait."
"Are you in charge of the army and navy of Saudi Arabia?"
"No, but I would be expected to sit in on any strategy meeting between the armed forces, Prince Farouk and my father as a training exercise, I need to be prepared in case of my father's death, he is an old man."
"Are you going to send me back to Kuwait?"
"You are currently a prisoner of war. The people of my country will not understand that you will be staying in my quarters. (that was good new, where I was staying not his people not understanding). My Father the King has said that I cannot stay there with you while you are being held for treason, I will be at the penthouse, if you need something from me send Ahmed.
"There will be guards inside and outside with guns drawn in case you think your mastery of Tai Kwan Do will assist you in escaping."
"My Prince, I have no desire to escape, my only hope is that we are able to move past this and proceed to our wedding."
"The wedding has been postponed."
"Please do not cancel it, Fahis. I love you very much." He looked at me with a mixture of sadness and hatred. Had I ruined any chance I would have for love? At that moment I hated the Agency more than I had ever hated anyone or thing.
For weeks I didn't see anyone other than Ahmed and the guards posted in the Royal Quarters. I would have even been glad to see that pain in the ass wedding planner. My leg had healed enough that I was allowed to start walking, there was a hallway that stretched close to a hundred yards that allowed me to build back the strength I had lost while bedridden.
"Master, the King's guard has announced that you have visitors." I couldn't imagine who was being allowed to visit me while I was being held prisoner of war. I had been allowing myself to go about rather unkempt so I went to wash my face and hair, pull on a clean dishdasha and find a pair of serviceable sandals. Ahmed stopped me and placed a headdress on my head. I hated those things but it was better to be prepared than to insult one of the Royals.
"Olly, you've lost weight." She had rushed to hug me but was warned off by the guards. It was always the first thing my mother addressed, maybe all mothers worry about their child's health..
"Son, the embassy says we may get to take you home."
"I am a prisoner of war. What are they demanding in return?"
"All the jewels that you have been given and two million dollars." I hid the black ring with yellow diamond that I wore on my left hand.
"Is the government paying to have me released?"
"No, your mother and I will pay the two million dollars." I hadn't expected my father to say that. The million dollar man?
"Your mother has convinced me that my one million dollar maximum is very twentieth century and that the US dollar is not worth that much here." Nothing about having an emotional desire to get me home.
"You were told that I am engaged to the Royal Prince?" I choose to see the lay of the land.
"There are fixes for that type of behavior these days." My father the homophobe would have checked into what could be done.
"But I love him."
"Isn't he the one holding you prisoner?" He snapped back at me.
"No, that would be his father." I looked at mine, understanding he would do the same if their positions were reversed. I wanted to be with them but at that moment I understood that I wanted to be with my Prince much more.
"Mother, Father let's sit and talk." For an hour we caught up on their life, they didn't want to know anything about what had happened to me since being taken from Ohio State. The moment I mentioned the slave camps they changed the subject. Ahmed sat at my feet, much to their discomfort. I had decided before we began to talk that I would not accept their offer to ransom me, the Prince had become more important to me than returning to the USA and having my parents forcing me into some salvation program. I didn't tell them that until Ahmed told me we only had a few more minutes of the time allowed per visit.
"Wait for the Royal invitation. I plan on staying in Saudi Arabia and marry my Prince. We will find a way to resolve this issue, I may not be a diplomat but I am assured of an ending that will please everyone involved. I hope that you will allow the King's secretary to talk with you about your part in the wedding.."
"Your mother may come if she wants, but I will not be disgraced in front of the world by having my son become the play thing of some spoiled rich boy."
"Son, I would like to see you married. Please send me an invitation." She had seen that I was about to attack my father for his ignorance when she spoke.
"Mother, there will be no part in the ceremony for any women. I know that is against your feminists beliefs but that is the culture I am marrying into. Fahis does not have a mother for you to meet and plan with. I still hope to have you a seat of some honor at the ceremony." We had spoken of it, but Fahis and the wedding planner had not found a way to even invite a woman to the ceremony.
They left, my father still breathing fire about his only son being willing to marry a man, a damn Arab and I don't know what else he said as he stomped out of the palace. If he ever expected to have the kingdom as a customer he was going to have to send Meckelson to make amends, I wouldn't plead for him or his business in selling and delivering ammunition. He had best do it quickly because the House of Saud held their grudges for centuries.
"Master, you could have been a free man once more. Yet, you choose to remain here a slave to my brother."
"Ahmed, if the Prince chooses to marry me after all he knows, do you not think he will be sure to have me released from the papers of enslavement?" At least that was my hope.
"He may just buy you." Transfer ownership?
"I would serve him happily." I had never thought of that possibility, the Saudis allowed enslavement of Americans that were sent to pay off the huge debt. I had heard of them buying some of the slaves that had been sent to the Kuwaiti auction for less than the twenty thousand that was supposedly our base price. What they did with their slaves was beyond me, Ablah was the only slave I had seen with a Saudi Master.
"The television program that Jones had told me about said the slaves here were not being treated well but how could you know if they were always in the private homes or businesses of the owners. There had been reports of some being used in the dessert as beast of burden around the oil wells and the way slaves had been used in the Middle East since the days of the Romans and Greek to make the housework of the Arab women as little as possible.
At the restaurant I had heard men at another table discussing a boy brothel that had Americans but that they were already aging out after less than 20 months. As I thought about it I would serve my Prince but I had no desire to be a common slave of the kingdom either sucking every dick that walked through the door or bent over a rack being fucked by anyone needing relief.
"Ahmed, where are the slaves in this country?"
"Mostly working in the dessert, but there are some like Ablah that are kept by members of the royal family. Behind the wall of the royal palace there are hundreds of slaves younger than me serving the royal family in any way demanded of them That is said to be the way in any home that can afford a slave, they work behind the scenes until it is time for bed and then they either serve the Master or Mistress as studs or urinals." That sounded better, working behind the scenes was less embarrassing than working naked in front of the entire family. At least at night I could be with my Prince.
"Master, do you think Al Sari loves you enough to stand up to his father about your disposition? Both our lives depend on him, don't they?" It was the first time he had expressed a concern for his life. I was glad to hear that his descent into slavery hadn't totally erased his own sense of preservation. I cared for him but compared to my Prince those feelings were very minor.
"Ahmed, I have no doubt about how he feels. We shall be safe."
I said that to Ahmed but was I as convinced? About the love part? Yes. About being safe, that was another thing. If the father decided I was too much of a risk or the desired ransom had not been paid there was little doubt he would have me executed, Had he not executed his own wife for simply kissing a foreigner on the cheek too close to the corner of his mouth?
I don't remember when the Prince gave me the number for his cell phone but I was returned my phone today and found that he had left a test message for me just this morning, 'Don't despair, my father is malleable."
I immediately texted him back a photo of me holding the one of a kind butt plugs with the message, 'Now in place."
I had already told him of my love, I would not blast him with eternal messages of love unless in response to his own. He knew how I felt and how he felt, it was up to him to make our love work if he wanted to extricate us from this Hell. An hour later I was sure that Mehmet was wrong, the thought of my Prince's sperm in my ass was reassuring in the way that nothing else could have been, personalized butt plugs would sell. Whatever the cost, they would be worth it to men that needed reassurance of having their man deep inside.
Ahmed had helped me. A butt plug as long as my Prince's cock took effort. I have never sat on a dildo or butt plug, if Ahmed had not been with me that is what I would have tried. It didn't feel as pleasant as having him fuck me had, but knowing that it was him left me with a warm feeling. I wished I would have been able to send the other one to him but I thought better of the idea, of having Ahmed take it to him. If he wanted to experience me he could freely come to my bed or request the butt plug and I would cooperate. I wasn't starving for sex. I had Ahmed to provide me with the servicing I needed, but I felt wrong about allowing him to fuck me,so I didn't.
"Oliver Thristleson" Other than answering to my Prince this was going to be the first time I had the chance to persuade anyone of my desire to stay in Saudi Arabia with my Prince.
"That is the name I was given at birth."
"Dr. Thrisleson?"
"Unless Ohio State awarded those taken into slavery while lacking a very few credits for a degree I am not a PHD." I would happily pass on my doctorate and orals to be in my Prince's bed for the rest of my life.
"Your school records show that you are finished with the work required to achieve a doctorate. Do you contest that?"
"No, sir I will not." I was sunk either way, honorary or lacking credits did it really matter to anyone other than a university that wanted to hire me?
" In Kuwait you were addressed as Ali, the slave."
"I don't remember anyone putting it that way but I was both of those things."
"In this country you have been addressed as Prince Mehmet of Kuwait?
"My owner wanted me to provide him what looks like a doppelganger."
"Doppelganger?"
"A body double that could fill in for him while he perform other duties."
"It was as this doppelganger that you were to meet Our Royal Prince Al Sari of Saud?"
"Yes."
"Was it the intent of Prince Mehmet that you were to seduce the Prince?"
"Yes."
"Were you expected to have the Prince ask you to marry him?"
"No, sir. He was only to lust after me. When the first gifts arrived from the Prince they were received with the idea that he was seeking to have me return to his bed. A thank you letter was being prepared. My Master had taken some of the gifts for himself."
"But there was as second round of gifts."
"That is correct. I didn't know what the gifts meant but with help of some Kuwaitis that live here it was determined that the Royal Prince was courting me. By the time we had sifted through the gifts I found the letter that said the Prince had spoken to Prince Mehmet's father and after pledging a !0 million dinar dowry succeeded in arranging the marriage between Mehmet and your prince."
"You will call him our Royal Prince."
"Yes sir."
"How was this accepted by Prince Mehmet?"
"At first he thought Kuwait intended to marry him off to the Royal Prince and repeatedly refused to even consider the idea. He was extremely angry with his father for accepting such a proposal in his name.
"The government pressured him to no avail. Prince Osama interrupted the talk and applied even greater pressure only to back away and threaten the possibility of sending me to the Prince as the greatest espionage mission of the twenty-first century. I was not quite convinced, Prince Mehmet was not convinced either that he was going to be able to resist the notion of sending me to the Royal Prince under his name while he reclaimed the name of a brother that had died in childhood.
"The only matter that had not been overcome was my resistance. The whole idea would fall apart if I said no or told the Royal Prince that I was not Mehmet. It may seem mercenary but as I unwrapped the gifts sent on the gold tray I began feeling warmly towards the Prince. It wasn't that I loved the gifts, they were being turned over to the Kuwaiti government or Prince Mehmet, except for the jewelry. I didn't know what to do. When I sat down to dinner with the Royal Prince and his brother I was unsure if I could honestly say I would marry the Royal Prince. By the time his younger brother mentioned the idea of his courtship I had begun to enjoy the family and grow in my love for my Royal Prince it wasn't wholly an impetuous answer, I had been thinking it would be a possibility all afternoon but when I stated that 'I want to marry the Royal Prince' it surprised even me.
"The following day the items that had been sent to Kuwait began returning. Mehmet started to treat me differently, more like a slave. I tolerated it in the hopes that as the spouse of the Royal Prince my life would be better once more."
"Kuwait did not recruit you to spy for the USA?"
"No sir, there was never a mention that what we were doing would profit the USA or that Kuwait would profit in its relationship with the USA."
"If given the opportunity to choose, where will you go when the Royal Prince has you released from his quarters?"
"I intend to stay and convince the Royal Prince that we should be married."
""You were sent here with two slaves. Jamaal and Ahmed."
"That is correct."
"Who are they?"
"Ahmed is the younger brother of Mehmet. When he told his father about his desire to have sex with older men his father refused to allow him to leave the palace. His brother Mehmet came to his rescue and took him to live in his newly purchased palace. Mehmet had been convinced that attending the slave camp for the final three weeks would increase Ahmed's sexual skill and perhaps help him find a husband. It was about the same time that my Master brought me Jamaal to the palace to be trained as my personal slave, sexual and otherwise.
"He had seen me looking at Jamaal in the camps, searched out the reasoning and bought him.
"I had figured out that Jamaal was a boy that I had known as a young teenager, Chuckles. Having him as my own slave was odd but as he fell into slavery easily I gathered confidence and soon was treating him no worse or better than any other slave except Ahmed who was to be treated with the utmost respect."
"Making him drink piss directly from your cock is treating him with the utmost respect?"
"Only because he enjoyed being treated as my urinal."
"Why was he sent to Saudia Arabia as your slave?"
"Ahmed has formed an attachment to me. Because of that and the fact that he probably knew more about Saudi Arabia than any other slave in Prince Mehmet's camps. It had been determined that I would need his help not to make an absolute fool of myself and Kuwait."
"It has been suggested that you entranced the Royal Prince."
"If you mean I used sex to trap a man starving for sexual attention, sure I entranced him."
NO. WE are talking about witchcraft."
"That I have no knowledge of, the closest I ever got to witchcraft was a friend that claimed to be a witch but could do nothing."
"Is he among the Prince Mehmet's slaves?"
"No, he died when hit by a car in his senior year in High School, about nine years ago now. That tells you how effective his protections spells were."
"What are your feelings about a war between the two Kingdoms because of what you have done with Prince Mehmet?"
"I have had some time to reflect upon this. If Saudi Arabia decides it is necessary to save face in the world then I stand with you. If Saudi Arabia is choosing to punish Kuwait for the intended crimes of Prince Mehmet a rapid forces strike would be enough. If the matter to be resolved is my misrepresentation of myself to the Royal Prince perhaps Kuwait would prefer to have me freed and adopted into Prince Mehmet's family so that the Royal Prince may once more say that the man he wishes to marry is a Prince of Kuwait."
"And if the Prince's father chooses to behead you?"
"Do not allow him to have my head bagged first. I want to look upon him and blame him for the unhappiness that will follow the Royal Prince.