2088

2088

Chapter 32

Please remember, this is a work of fiction. The characters are characters, the countries involved have not done what I say. If you are not of a legal age, in many places, 21, to read about men having sex with men and in most cases extreme forms of sex I suggest you find another story to read.

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2088

Chapter 32

"You whip all of your slaves at least once a month whether they have done anything to deserve it?" I had found another slave owner when we went to the beach. He was much older than me and had owned slaves since he was in his teen years. His parents had gifted him with a younger boy from the streets of Egypt who had not been trained to do anything barely knowing how to keep himself clean. The teen was expected to do all of his own training and was permitted a free hand in doing that. His parents had an overseer for the slaves that worked in their house and another for the slaves that worked in their orchards that was to help if necessary.

He had grown up watching the slaves being whipped by the overseers, although English he spent most of his time growing up in Iran. The slaves he found to be the most agreeable where the ones that knew their place in the household. Generally by the time they were in their forties they had settled in to the life and obeyed orders without question or hesitation. He learned that they were those that had been whipped the most when they were younger. The overseer in the house explained to him that having a number of slaves to control would be different than training one but if you had one slave it was good for him to expect a whipping for the minor transgressions that the owner wouldn't have seen and to administer the whipping at the same time every week..

The day he was presented with his first personal slave the overseer taught him to use a whip. It hadn't taken the slave or him long to realize that a whipping on a regular basis would be administered to keep him in line. He only had one slave with him on the beach, a younger boy than I prefer, the boys was there to act as much as his guests' servant as his slave. Although older than most on the beach he was still sexually active and had the boy in training to deep-throat him. I think that was what brought him to our part of the beach to talk. He liked the length of my cock and wanted to know if any of the boys were capable of taking the entire thing.

When I explained that there were a number of them that could he asked if I would take his slave boy and have him taught how to accept a cock in his throat, one that would be shorter and thinner than what he saw, groping me. That was when he learned that I was living in the Spanish Palace. He tried recalling the stories he had heard about me. We talked freely for an hour or so probably every thirty minutes being slathered with a designer sun-block, he had purchased in the USA, by his boy. My slaves were used to the sun but I had to tell them once while we were there to put on the sun tan oil we had brought with us.

"Those are the things you shouldn't ever have to tell your slaves. When you go back to the palace I would suggest that each of these boys receive at least twenty strokes with either a bull whip or a multi-tailed flog. If they learn to expect a whipping when they have not fulfilled their duties you will start to have better behaved slaves." I objected saying that the boys with me spent their entire lives satisfying me and if they forgot to care for themselves on occasion it could be overlooked.

"Just because they satisfy you in bed doesn't make them trained. That ginger boy throwing sand at the other boys? I would be sure he was to receive twice the punishment the others receive but you may need assistance to make it through that many strokes. That will have added up to well over a hundred and if you don't play at hitting them your arm will be tired." I knew that, my arm had nearly fallen off the one time Juan Diego had me give over a hundred stripes to one slave. Some of what the man said was condescending beyond what I would have allowed from anyone younger than him.

"How is your ability with a whip?" I think he thought he would be teaching me how to use the different whips he had mentioned earlier.

"Sen~or, I will hit my mark 98% of the time. The last time I whipped a slave with a six foot bull whip I didn't miss my spot," I had been instructed by King Juan Diego where he wanted each of the 100 strokes. "I swore I wouldn't uses that whip again, it had metal tips that sliced the nipples off the slave that had served the royal family for most of his life but had tried to steal minor paperwork to return me to the Royal Prince of Saudi Arabia..

"My slaves other than the five I brought back with me from Rwanda all went through a slave training camp and received whipping, flogging and caning, not only as needed but as dummies for anyone in training to use a whip. But, I see some value in the regular whipping you have recommended. I am going to discuss this matter with the King, if he does not have a problem with me disciplining the boys by whip at the palace I may start this very soon." I was feeling like hitting someone anyway. Disciplining a slave would be an honest relief of the tension building within, I had grown up knowing that using violence on someone or thing not causing the anger often would help me to calm down and not cause myself harm..

Unless the King had word from England about Patrick he was going to receive his second whipping. The first had not seemed to impress upon him the idea that he had become a slave when he signed the papers in Rwanda. If he needed a whipping everyday, so be it. That would probably require me to have the other slaves assist me, perhaps naming Ahmed an overseer which I knew would please him.. I don't know exactly how we started to talk about Patrick but the old man said the there was a resemblance to the young Prince Harry but he didn't think there was another member of the extended family that looked like him even down two generations, he had lived in the United Kingdom for a number of years while Prince Harry was alive so I trusted him when he said that.

We discussed for an hour or more where I should place the whip to teach the young man that he was a slave and needed to learn that I was his master and he would obey. The wind was picking up, I didn't see him do it but the man had summoned hotel workers that in minutes had a three sided wind and sand shelter erected around us. It may have been better if completely closed but I didn't plan on sitting there much longer, I didn't want the boys being sand blasted.

"Patrick, this boy needs to piss. Give him your mouth to use." I could see the young man stiffen in what was going to be a refusal. I didn't see the older man use the cane that bent Patrick at the knees, landing him in front of the boy I guessed couldn't be any older than nine if that. Understanding what had happened and why the boy stepped up so his feet were on either side of Patrick's legs and pushed his still undeveloped dick to Patrick's lips. My slave started to say no, the older man slashed his ass with the cane hard enough that he was bleeding.

"I suppose my telling you that my wife is also a member of the House of Windsor wouldn't make you any more impressed with your status as a slave. There is one thing I do know about your situation, the Royal family has a policy of not ransoming family members in trouble. My wife has asked me to relay to any making that claim that the situation as far as the family is concerned is either slavery or death, it is up to you to choose.

"She also asked me to see if they would fit into our household better than their current situations she prefers white slaves that look like family and speak English. I see that you are not fully trained and until you are I won't even consider any trade she would proposed upon seeing you, a ginger boy like you she would have in her cunt before you were ever unleashed." I was surprised that the man and his wife had talked about slaves that would claim to be members of the English Royal family, was it a regular claim to escape the slavery imposed on white boys almost randomly?

"I have told your owner that you need to be whipped and caned regularly until you start doing as ordered immediately." I took it that he was warning Patrick that abuse was not a matter that would be avoided if he disobeyed orders, so did he.

"Anwar, stand where you are and suck my cock." The nine year old did as told, bending over not getting to his knees.

"Patrick, show us how well you have learned to eat ass." We had been talking about this earlier with me saying it had taken a few whippings to teach him that his tongue belonged in an ass when he was told to get it there. I had wondered whether he would obey the man, the idea that he had told me about his desire to help free the Rwandan children from the brothels made me think he was going to think was somewhat the same as the boy was in sexual slavery. Twice he had taken the cane to Patrick, would the slave make him cane him a third time? No.

Patrick's hands spread the boys' cheeks and he carefully forced his head, tongue first into the boy. I had expected the boy to jump but instead his head went down shocking the old mam as his cock drove further into the boy's throat than ever. Patrick didn't back off, he stayed in the boy's crack licking that asshole as if it was the best he had ever tasted. I was happy to see him not embarrass me. The whipping he was going to get because of his other two missteps were no longer going to last so long. He earned himself a reprieve from the bull whip.

"You have decided that you are going to start punishing your boys?" The King had come out to the section of the grounds that I had designated the punishment zone. There had been a rack to hang slaves from, brought in, and the rack used to bend boys over with loops on all four corners staked to the ground. When he had first seen that I was setting up the zone the King had offered a desk that was in storage. When I had asked why he suggested it might work for caning like desks had for centuries in private schools, he had never attended one so I was sure he didn't know the feeling of being called into the Headmasters office. By the time I was ready to start giving regular punishment Patrick had earned a day on each of the items, having lost his reprieve. He had been told but still was obstinate about resisting what he was told to do.

The other boys were not happy to see me installing the punishment zone but none of them had said a word. Salman had been tied to each of the new items at the training camp at the other end of Morocco, I could feel him trembling each time he was told to take the smallest item there. He would be the last of the slaves to receive any punishment, even behind Ahmed and Jamaal. Helping to set the zone up had been a punishment for him, his father had used the "bend over" rack to hold him, not only at my training camp but at home also. It would be the one that I choose to use when I thought he was slacking up on his duties.

I walked into the slaves' breakfast nook, looked at them all and announced that Patrick was to be punished for the two times he had refused the old man on the beach and for numerous other resistances that I enumerated in front of them. He was given the option of my using the bull whip or a cane. I imagine he thought back to his school days and thought the cane would be more easily taken than a whip that he had never seen used but had heard stories of.

Ahmed and Jamaal had joined us at the palace a week after the King arrived. It isn't like they are in charge but when the slaves screw up they are the ones that make sure matters are cleaned up or straightened up without me ordering them to do it. I gave the order to all of the slaves to take Patrick to the rack and bend him over with his legs pulled as far apart as they could. By the time the boys had man handled him out of the nook and were outside he was screaming that I couldn't do this to him. I still don't understand why he thinks he has any rights or there is a limit to what I can do. I have been attempting to prove to him since the day we left Rwanda that he was no better than any other slave and was expected to do as told as soon as he was told. King Ferdinand had suggested that it might be a lingering expectation of White Privilege.

"Mosi, attach the heaviest of those weights to his cock and then two lighter ones to his balls." I had thought I should cane his cock and balls but I choose not to damage him this time, I knew that time would come should he not start to learn. Mosi had needed Salman to help him with the ball weights, I'm sure Salman loved that. He had no love for Patrick and hanging weights on balls and nipples excited him, rather than allowing them to be lowered gently he dropped them from the height of the balls. I thought he would be trying to fuck Mosi's mouth by the time they were finished, his cock was already drooling pre-cum when the first ball dropped.

"Patrick, the seven slaves standing to your side understand that you deserve this punishment. You have picked the cane, I want to ask you again. The bull whip or the cane?"

"Fuck you."

"That is a definite bull whip request, ten strokes.

"That is in addition to the punishment you were already to receive. Since you haven't changed your mind and prefer the cane to the whip, I am going to allow the seven boys whose load has been heavier because of your resistance to administer ten stripes each. Khozito and Jamaal, step up, here. Have either of you ever used a cane on another boy?"

"Master, we were taught to use the cane in the training camp, but that has been a few months so I will need to warm up." Jamaal had been taught about the cane, giving and receiving, he picked up the cane as if it might bite.

"Master, in W Compound I watched boys and girls be caned but I was never the one wielding the cane until the last week I was there. I wasn't trained and I didn't really know what I was doing."

"Jamaal, give Patrick ten stripes down the right side of his torso. Do not hold back." I felt that the hatred he felt for Patrick might get exorcised a bit being the first allowed to cane his fellow slave. Patrick was screaming and crying that he was English Royalty and couldn't be whipped the way you would whip a common slave. After his ten strokes I walked up to the fool with Khozito.

"I will help you with this. You will need to allow me the use of your arm for the first two strikes, if after that you think you understand the motion you need to follow with your arm and wrist I will allow you the next two. I want you to try to follow the pattern I start which will be parallel lines down the inside of his calf. His first try didn't hit the calf, Khozito actually hit high on the thigh. I went through the motion again, bringing the cane down harder than the first three times.

The next two times Khozito hit the calf but not quite parallel, I went through the motion one more time and he mastered it. The last three strikes were in almost perfect alignment as Patrick screamed and cried.

"So you have finally taken my advise and are punishing this slave." The English man had walked up behind us quietly.

"Good afternoon, have you come to see if I am effective with my punishment?"

"No, I brought my wife to visit with the King and he told us you were out here, she took a quick look before they retired to his office. They will be out to watch in a short time, they had a note from the English King to consider.

"Mosi, your father told me that you were often caned. More often before your cock was shortened. It is your turn to step up, do you know what you are doing?"

"Yes, master. My father would have me cane my sisters if they didn't bring in enough food for his supper."

"Okay, then you may match Jamaal with stripes down the left side of his torso." He was the slave I would have expected to go the lightest on Patrick. They weren't friends but Patrick had stopped some of the normal boyish rough housing and teasing that might have hurt him when he had still been in the brothel. Was I ever wrong, they were the hardest ten strokes to Patrick's skin. I thought he might bleed but all there were was ten parallel red welts standing up on his side.

"Runihuru, have you ever used a cane?"

"Master, like Khozito the men who ran J Compound forced me to cane younger children when they wanted to make a special movie or force the unwilling boys or girls to kneel for the dogs. Rogerio spent a few hours teaching me how to do exactly what you have been doing here. It has been a while but I should be able to do what you ask."

"Okay, let's go around the front. Now give him ten strikes, alternating right to left on his nipples. Your stripes should land on top of each other."

Patrick was howling when the man's wife and King Ferdinand joined us.

"He doesn't have a very high tolerance for pain."

"No, Madame he started to scream and cry before he was ever hit. Is this the way English Royalty behaves?" I hadn't expected her to take offense.

"Certainly not. We go to our punishment silent, never giving those dishing out the punishment the satisfaction of crying out even as our heads are chopped off. I can't believe this young man is a member of the family. I suppose a DNA test was done?" She was appraising Patrick much like one does a horse when getting ready to place a bet. She did not look impressed with his teeth, chest, balls or shriveled cock..

"Yes. It came back as indecisive. He may be a relative but if so it is extremely distant."

"Well, then he should also be punished for claiming to be a relative. May I?"

I had never seen a woman disciplining a naked boy. I showed her to the cage that held paddles, canes, whips and assorted other items you might want to use to hit a boy. She removed a paddle and a short whip. I had only used that type of whip once, myself, the slave had howled louder than with any other whip.

"Would anyone mind if I remove my blouse? I don't want to chance getting blood all over it." I was a bit surprised that she intended to draw blood but if that was to be Patrick's punishment from the royal family for his pretense then the boy was getting what he deserved. If it had been me doing the punishment I would have returned to doing as I had once before, a bull whip to the balls and cock, leaving him as less than a manly slave, one that would only have his mouth and ass left to please his next master.

Just before she walked away she also grabbed a gag that would stifle most of the noise Patrick was making.

"Would you hold his cock out from his body?" She was asking a slave not ordering him? That seemed most unusual but when Mosi looked for approval I nodded. She had handed him a tool I hadn't know the purpose of until then. Mosi slipped the tip of the tool under Patrick's foreskin and snapped the other part down hard on the outside causing Patrick to scream again. He stretched the foreskin away from Patrick's body about four inches, much further than I thought possible, he hadn't seemed to have that much. I wondered if she had picked the boy that had his cock sliced down to a few inches on purpose. The more I thought about that the more I was sure she intended to make Patrick think about what had happened to Mosi and wonder if that was her final intention. The way Mosi held the cock away from Patrick's body would have been perfect to slice off if that was her intention, I didn't think I would interrupt if she did.

"My Love, your friend paid me a good sum to purchase Patrick. He and his wife may have more than punishment in mind. He called a doctor friend of his to visit the palace in two hours." The King didn't either look or sound pleased with what he saw happening.

"If Patrick is alive in two hours he will be needing more than a regular doctor, I have the feeling he will be needing a plastic surgeon to repair the damage they are going to do. She has already admitted the intent of drawing blood."

"I'm glad they purchased him then. From the man's comments it seems they may not only punish but torture Patrick, there seemed to be some question about his mother disappearing. Are you sure you want your slaves seeing that?"

"Yes, it might do them well to know that they can be sold to someone like this pair that will not treat them as well as we have." Right then I saw her wind up and smack his balls so hard with the paddle that if they weren't smashed I would be surprised. The man moved in behind Patrick and hit him with another paddle perhaps harder but the ass was better padded and didn't make me cringe like the first smack had.

"Keep holding his cock out that way. I'll return to punishing his sex shortly." Mosi looked like he wanted to cry but he had used the clamps given to him and stretched the cock out by the foreskin giving room for anything they would care to use on either the balls or cock.

The husband had set his paddle down and had taken a choice titanium cane that I was sure did not need to be swung powerfully to first hurt and then cut the skin. I took the King's hand and pulled him further back away from the action. My slaves all other than Mosi moved back with us.

"Patrick, belongs to them. The King sold him to the man before the beating began. I think you should all watch closely, this is what can happen if you have a master that does not love you." I motioned them all to their knees so if any passed out from seeing the blood I was sure would soon be flying didn't have far to fall.

"I'm returning to the palace, I don't have a need to see how cruel people can be. I saw this and more living on the streets." Tito had made the declaration softly, I doubt even one of the slaves heard more than the fact he was returning to the palace. I wished he would stand by me, I was not that pleased to be watching them destroy the body that I wish had learned to submit to my commands.

"Prince Ali, whoever you had caning him earlier was doing a good job at leaving parallel stripes on this scum's chest. Also, this was a very interesting treatment of his nipples. You could have removed them, slaves really have no use for them." I hadn't noticed that the woman was carrying a knife. Seconds after she stopped talking both of Patrick's nipples were laying in the sand, bloody side down, the tips quivering in the light breeze. Jamaal flopped to the side and vomited as the blood gushed from Patrick's chest.

I had never seen anyone take a cane to a man's Achilles tendons. It only took a few strokes before the skin ruptured and Patrick started bleeding in the third and fourth place. I had no belief that Patrick was going to live through the torture the couple was beginning to speed up. The wife had once more begun to concentrate her attention on Patrick's balls, twice smacking him hard with the smaller paddle that she could swing incredibly hard. Between the swings she had ordered Mosi to pull Patrick's balls out from where they were hiding between his legs. If she hadn't smashed the testicles on the first swing, the two times she hit them with the smaller paddle destroyed them.

"Did you bring the tension bars with us?"

"Yes, ANWAR!" The nine year old came running from the palace kitchen where the maids had been dressing his hair into miniature pig tails all over his head. He was dispatched to their golf cart and ran back with not only the bars she had requested but what looked to me to be an extremely large metallic dildo. When Anwar handed it to his master I was able to see that it was not only longer than any dildo I had ever seen, even those that we trained on in Camp (50), Anwar also handed his master a rubber mallet.

I sent all the boys except for Salman and Jamaal, inside. There was no need for anyone to see what I knew then was to be more than a punishment or torture. The couple had the full intention of killing Patrick, it seemed the husband and wife were competing to see which was capable of inflicting the most pain. They had put the tension bars in place on his balls and added extra weights on both ends leaving the flattened sac exposed for them to alternate hitting with their canes, Patrick couldn't stop howling with pain.

Patrick suddenly sagged as if he had passed out from the pain. I was surprised when I saw the husband pull a silver bullet from his pocket and hold it to Patrick's nose. I think that was when I understood that the couple intended to kill him and wanted him to know what was happening to him. He was bleeding form his chest, his cock, his butt, the skin over his kidneys, his ACL and his Achilles tendons. I pulled the boys along behind me as I rushed into the Palace.

"Your Majesty, the couple you have allowed to punish their slave on your rack is going to kill him if you don't interfere in some manner."

"I have no authority in Morocco."

"But you do own the palace and its grounds."

"Anything I do to interfere would be taken as a act of aggression by the United Kingdom. The woman out there is the first cousin of the English King."

"She still shouldn't be committing murder at your palace!"

"What do you suggest we do, Regent?" So he was going to leave it to me?

"Fine, I am going to have my slaves cut him down from the rack. If that doesn't stop them I will have the boys load him into their cart."

"That may stop what they are doing here, but they cannot take him back to the resort where they are staying, it is slave free. Where are you going to have them go?" He asked that like I was part of the murder we were witnessing.

"Wake up lover. Its just a bad dream." The King had shaken me and was now holding me from the back, I could tell I was shaking as hard as Jamaal had when he vomited in the palace yard, I wanted to vomit also but the arms around me were reassuring..

"Patrick is still alive?"

"I don't know, they took him away after caning his tendons."

"They didn't have Anwar bring tension bars to put on his nuts?"

"If they did I didn't see them as they threw him in the back of the golf cart."

"Was he awake?"

"I heard him groan when he hit the back of the seats. Anwar used the seat belts to attach him to the cart and rode behind holding onto an upright to the roof." The King was still holding me, stroking my hair with one hand while the other arm was tight around my chest with a finger rubbing a nipple. I pushed back so that my butt was pushing against his cock, it may have been in my mind to get fucked but the King said I needed to attend to my slaves.

"I know Patrick had signed the papers that enslaved him and allowed me the right to do as I wished with his body but I am sure he never expected his own country woman to demolish him as she did. Why did you sign the papers transferring him to the couple?"

"She is related to Patrick, whatever they would do to the boy would be approved by the English. He let me know that there had been some dissent about us not turning him over when you arrived here the way the royals thought protocol should work.. There were others that did not believe he was related except through an incestuous union between the Uncle he resembled and his father's love child that lived in Scotland. It was a battle in which I felt we were better not to be taking sides, I was offered about four times what you said we had invested in him." None of that sounded like my King but I resigned myself to never seeing Patrick, again.

"Go. Assure your slaves you won't kill them. Settle them however is necessary, we will be returning to Spain tomorrow." I could tell he didn't expect me back for the night. I t was with a certain reluctance that he had sent me off. I shouldn't have had to decide between spending the night with my King or my slaves but my heart was divided and I was needed by the boys cowering in the slave quarters fearful for their lives more than the young man I had shepherded from a hut full of shit to now being the equal of any Monarch in Europe. It was not the way I had hoped my life would progress but Tito had made up his mind and I knew I shouldn't attempt changing it.

"My Majesty, when I went to the slaves' quarters last evening Anwar was among my slaves. When I asked the reason he could only tell me that the police had arrested his owner and the resort would not accept him back in their rooms. What would you have me do with him?"

"Anwar may travel with me to Spain where I will not have him treated like a slave. When he is old enough to choose emancipation or slavery those options will be given to him. Until then he may live in the castle with me, being schooled and serving as he is able and willing. Until he reaches the age of consent he will not be expected to be my sex slave or be given to any of the men begging my favor.

"Spain needs to move past that. It is despicable that Anwar has seen what he has in his short life with the English couple. For the next seven years he will be treated like a prince." There had been a conversation between the boy and the King, letting Tito know that this was not the first time he had seen his owners torture and kill a slave.

"You may use my palace for the next few months while you choose what your future will be. If there is something that Spain or I can do to assist you, please contact my secretary or my new Regent, not me. If any of your slaves prefer to live with me they should come to the jet by 10AM and I will take them with me as free men. I think it may be what you too need consider.

"My Prince, you were never raised to own slaves. You might even consider allowing yourself to be returned to Saudi Arabia. The Royal Prince has sent word that he would like to move forward in courting you. His father lays on his death bed, it looks like it may be the final time. I don't know what being married to him would mean for you but certainly it would be much preferred over running the training camps that have been offered to you or living in Spain where you have a target on your back as Regent."

"Tito, I had thought we were getting to the point where we would decide to remain together. Have I done something to displease you?" I wasn't pleased that he was leaving me at the palace when we had started to act more like lovers than King and Regent.

"No, Ali, I simply came to the understanding that you and I would never be as happy as I would wish for either of us. I thank you for bringing me up from the streets to the throne. I will always be indebted to you, but I think it is better for me if I never allow you to contact me again." Head high he walked from the room where we spoke, out of the palace to the limousine waiting for him, never looking back.

I honestly didn't love him but it hurt to be disposed of in such a manner. When I gave the boys the option of going with the King only Yasir asked any questions that lead me to believe that he might be interested. That would be reasonable, Yasir had stayed with him while I was in Rwanda. After looking around at the other slaves he came to me, knelt and kissing my feet murmuring 'master' almost as if he were purring or praying.

"Ahmed and Zubyda, you were the only two that had not been permitted to whip or cane Patrick before the couple took over. While I would have preferred that you were to do that with a slave none of my slaves deserve to be beaten at this time. Among yourselves decide who is to use the bull whip and who will use a paddle. Then take a vote among you all as to how many times the two of you will be striking me. Remember, though I own you I am still a slave myself, I may always be one and may need punished from time to time; without my owner present the only way for that to happen is for my own slaves to punish me by my order."

I really expected them to each be given the go ahead for twenty or so strokes. When Jamaal and Khozito bent me over the rack and said ten I thought they were letting me off easy. Until I felt the paddle strike me the first time, then I realized that Ahmed was not going to go lightly even if I was his owner, he had punished slaves at his father's palace and knew that if I was going to learn from it then I needed to have it administered at full strength. Zubyda knew how to use the bull whip but he was not quite as sure of himself as Ahmed. I received five welts on each side of my torso but I refused to cry out as Patrick had.

My other slaves were overly solicitous once the punishment was finished, kissing my butt, helping to rub in lotions that would numb the pain and doing whatever they felt I needed to recover. I knew I should go be alone in a palace bed but their concern was endearing and all I could do was lay among them and allow them to minister to my bruises and welts. Runihuru and Jamaal were the most gentle with me, I had no idea that either could be the way they were. It was if the two slaves were trying to show more than concern, maybe a little love? After all these years was Jamaal allowing some of his feelings to be known?

For the following few days I lived among the slave boys refusing to take back the suite of rooms that I had resided in when we first arrived in Morocco. I think it was maybe the third night before any proposition of sex happened. I was surprised, as the owner it had always been up to me to initiate any sexual contact among us although I had always suspected that the slaves had a sex life of their own that I didn't hear about.

"Master, have you come to live among us to tell us that you are not going to fuck us, have us suck your cock or make us act as we have since being enslaved?" The pain had finally dissipated from my bruised butt and I had done some exercising that morning. I had even lead the slaves in an hour of yoga to help them all stretch out the muscles they were allowing to tighten with a lack of exercise. We had all practiced self sucking for fifteen or more minutes with much less success than we had before I went to Rwanda, even I had not been able to swallow more than half my own cock

"Yasir, are you missing your chance to drink my piss?" I watched him blush but nod his head just a bit. It had been difficult for him to kneel for piss in front of the other slaves from the very beginning. For him to admit his desire now was showing tremendous progress in accepting hi status as my slave. It was known by the others that he drank for me when Ahmed or Jamaal was not in the bedroom but it was the first time he would be drinking piss in front of Ahmed and Jamaal. "Come here, I haven't released any since our exercises, Salman will not be upset to share this time." Salman had been the only slave to drink my after exercise piss since he first was returned to me, he had begged to be allowed the privilege.

I couldn't believe how quickly Yasir was crouched in front of me with his mouth open less than an inch away from my cock. All of the boys had a willingness to drink my piss but that Yasir was so ready after I had left him with the King and never tried to get him to return to me was gratifying. The only other thing I could do to test the boys to see if the lessons on Patrick had made an impression was once I finished pissing.

"Runihuru, it is time to fuck your ass. Jamaal lick his ass, then lube him up. Ahmed, it is time for you to suck my cock and get me hard enough to fuck Runihuru, I was almost there already. Zubyda, you can help him by licking my asshole. Fifteen minutes later I had been fucking Runihuru for ten and all the other slave boys were alternating licking my ass and trying as hard as they could to insert their tongues inside, rough when I was pumping my cock in long strokes in and out of Runihuru's ass.

I had all the boys go around the front of Runihuru and stick their cocks in his mouth. He must have been trained well in W Compound, he sucked and swallowed without a murmur of dissent. A couple of the boys not only had him suck them but fucked his face. I had waved them all off when they attempted crawling under him to suck his cock, I was saving that for myself. I wanted them all to know that it is possible to take his cock deep in the throat, even if I might not reach his pubes I was going to try to take it all, including tonguing and lipping his balls.

Without either King Juan Diego or Ferdinand at the palace it seemed like nothing more than an old empty house. I knew he had given me as long as I wanted to move out but I needed to start doing something with my life. I had numerous options to consider but the one that would come to me in my sleep most often was investigating the possibility of marrying the Royal Prince of Saudi Arabia, his father had once more gotten out of his death bed to rule the country. I had the servants and slaves scrub the palace from ceiling to floor grouting before inviting him to visit me.

King Ferdinand had the presents I had left in Madrid sent to his palace. I used only a few to make the palace royal ready, what was most important were a few of the gifts that had been intended to make our royal bedroom different from any of the others in the House of Saud. The new sheets were laundered and ironed before being placed on the bed I had chosen for us. I have honestly not been gifted with that gene that is supposed to have gay men superior in decorating but Jamaal has, he finished the room with accents of color the Prince liked and some of the gifts that made the room seem fit for his royal highness.

Food was the least of our problems. The cook that ran the kitchen, whether a Spanish royal was there or not, knew Arabian food and promised that the Prince would be impressed with his meals the entire time he visited. He also promised that he would have some meals for me that included meat other than sheep or goat.

Ahmed easily took to working with the Prince's secretary creating his itinerary, coordinating his entourage and staging party. I was nearly as nervous as a bride. It had been over a year since we spent the night together. We had only seen each other one time and that had not gone well. The staging party arrived with the Prince's secretary, the man that I had never liked very much had been replaced by the eldest of Salman's brothers, another pain when matters of royalty were of concern. There were security matters in the Palace the staging party did not like, I gave them freedom to change them as long as they agreed to return the palace to the shape it had been in or spoke with the Spanish King's security to approve leaving any change in place

I had lived in Morocco now for the third time without meeting more than four or five people that were not employed at the palace or the Villa where I had trained the Prince's nephews. We could have arranged that he would stay in his own Villa but this was one time that I wanted him to come to me. If after a few days we moved to the Villa that would be alright with me but I wanted him on my home ground when we began any discussion of a future.

The staging party had brought what I assumed was a host gift, but when I opened it I knew it was another courting gift. It is easy for him to buy clothing for me, all he does is be sure it fits his body guard and it will fit me, Khosla never sent anything that would not fit. This was a new robe by Khosla, if it had been any more transparent or thin there would not have been an honest way to call it clothing. I thought back to my childhood and hearing the story of the King who had no clothes. If the robe had been any more transparent I would fit that description.

"Master, if you are going to wear that when anyone other than the Prince is with you there is going to be a necessity that you wear a wrap to cover your cock and butt." Ahmed knew what was permissible in Arab society, for him Islamic society. I had hoped that he would say what he thought of the robe. One of the wraps I hadn't shared with the slaves was a very light silver and silk that would match the robe nicely if the shoulder strap could be removed and the waist tightened enough that it wouldn't fall.

"Ahmed, have whoever fixes the wraps for Runihuru meet me after dinner and I will let him rework the wrap.:

"You can't be seen wearing the same clothing as your slaves, Master." He was shocked that I even could consider being seen in anything the slave wore.

"It will look like a slip or skirt when finished, Ahmed, not the wrap. I will need his person since they already know how to fix the inside so that a cock does not hang loose. It is a man is it not?" I didn't want to be naked in front of a woman, perhaps my sexuality is now set.

"This may not be the right time to wear the robe, Master. Would you consider waiting until the time he proposes to you again or for the wedding night appearance?" I knew he was worried that there were going to be more than just Prince Al Sari in the palace when he first arrived, would how I appeared really matter to the Prince's advisers?

"We have food arranged, transportation from the airport, rooming of the entire entourage, security, entertainment, and clothing?"

"Master, this is the only item of clothing you have approved, are you going to wear it to greet the Prince or at the dinner his second night here?"

"I don't think it is much of a dinner robe. So I will wear it to greet him the afternoon he flies in. I will wear the red and gold Khosla for the dinner, a white robe tomorrow during the day and then choose others by the day depending on how the visit is going. Do you think Yasir and you can work with that?"

"You are going to allow him to assist me?"

"Yes, Yasir will remain in my bedroom the entire we have the visitor other when he goes to eat or needs to relieve himself. Do not allow him to drink much, he will be the urinal of choice. I want you to be looked upon as highly as his secretary, plus you will likely stay busy."

"So, I need to go a week without drinking your piss?"

"Ahmed, remember you don't have any rights to my piss. I will do what I can but don't start whining already." I knew that a week without piss was as much a punishment for Ahmed as I had taken when I allowed the slaves to whip me.