This is the third chapter of part three of a trilogy of novels of gay sex.
Keywords: authority, control, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, loyalty
This story is entirely a work of fiction and all rights to it and its characters are copyright and private to and reserved by the author. No reproduction by anyone for any reason whatsoever is permitted.
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The Market Offer by Gerry Taylor
Chapter 3 -- Building programme
In a very mild January, a number of things sort of happened simultaneously and needed to be decided upon.
Aziz, as head of household, with seven slaves ran the household so efficiently that it was a seamless operation. As he was effectively the general manager of the Aloe Palace, I spoke with him first.
We were sitting on the veranda in the evening sunlight when I broached the question with him of him choosing a head of household for the new property I was having built where water had been discovered - the Lime Palace as I was calling it to myself.
`Master, that is not at all an easy question to answer immediately. From what you have intimated, the Lime Palace will have various hundreds of slaves and various dozens of overseers and assistant overseers. It is not an easy task to pluck a name out of the night air. If the Master allows, I shall think about it.'
The overseers, assistant overseers and I were sitting on the veranda the following evening going over the various changes to be introduced, when I asked Aziz, if he had an opportunity of thinking who would he recommend to take over in the Lime Palace.
`Master, forty eight of my fifty six years I have lived here in the Aloe Palace. I think it is time for a change. If it pleases you, it would be my greatest honour to be your head of household at the Lime Palace.'
I was so pleased and indeed all the others that a round of applause broke out which reverberated round the silent courtyard.
Aziz was the perfect choice for the large establishment which would be my new home to which I would move and, in time, that of almost six hundred slaves. With his diplomatic Arabic, and very good understanding of English, his familiarity with Dahran custom, his ability to command, organise, manage and delegate, he would be, in a word, a perfect deputy for me, his Master, and full of respect, tact and discretion.
`You have given this some thought then, Aziz. Who do you wish to see your successor at the Aloe Palace?'
`I think the Master will be pleased to promote Pete Downings.'
When I asked the others what they thought of if, their smiles said all.
Mischievously, I said, `Does that mean you will leave Yedo here to help Pete?'
For a split second there was a look in Aziz's eyes, at the thought of losing his own favourite slave, but the laughter of all of us at the look in his face, made him merely smile and he said, `No, Master, unless you think otherwise.'
The perfect answer from a wise slave.
`Call Pete, Aziz, and we shall talk to him now.'
Two minutes later, a worried looking Pete was at `display' in front of me in the study. His chest was heaving from the run across the courtyard from the slave quarters where he had apparently been. He looked on edge, I though, perhaps, because perhaps he had never been in the study before. It is quite usual for a strange room to have an unsettling effect on people.
Pete looked well. There was no excess body weight on his at his twelve stone seven, or so I would have judged his weight. I got up and ran my hand down his back. His skin was totally devoid of body hair as a result of the creams used, his tightly cut dark hair suited his head. From the side, his only remaining body hair, a trimmed pubic area, and the thin black hair in deep armpits were a nice contrast to the all-over tan on his body.
As I cupped his shaven testicles, he trembled a little more like a foal when petted but he did not move. The uncut foreskin was drawing back revealing the slit of his piss hole. He trembled more as I ran the back of my thumb over the tip of his cock.
`Has Aziz told you why I have called you, Pete?
I stroked his lower belly, and the skin felt firm under my finger tips.
`No, Master?' he answered nervously.
`Do you like the work you are doing?
My finger was circling his tight belly button which was almost flat against his stomach, no indentation, merely the sealed scar of an original umbilical cut.
`Ye...s, Ma...ster' -- his cock was now rising to a nice erection.
Ceasing my teasing of his body, I looked into his eyes. There was nervousness, but no fear. Curiosity at being called, but trust at the same time. A nice combination.
`You're keeping yourself fit, I see, Pete.'
`Yes, Master.'
`And who is your buddy?'
`Randy, Master'.
`Ah. Yes.'
`Aziz has spoken well of you and of your work.'
`He has, Master?'
There was surprise in his voice and I said so.
`You seemed surprised?'
`Aziz never says much to me, Master, just instructs me on what has to be done or painted.'
`And how many times has he punished you or told you to do the work again?'
`Never, Master.'
`That is why, Pete, he is recommending you to be his assistant head of household.'
`Master?'
There was genuine surprise on his face and I left it there for some seconds. He looked at me to see if there was some catch in the statement.
`Well, assistant head of household or not?'
`Yes, Master, if you think I can do the job.'
`Don't let me down, Pete.'
`No, Master, I won't.'
`Be available for me tonight.'
`Yes, Master.'
That night Pete was in my bedroom suite when I arrived, with Komil also there. Both at display. I ignored Komil as I normally did when another slave was present. His body might or might not be needed later on.
`Good, Pete. I don't usually have sex with assistant overseers once they are promoted, so let me take a close look at that body of yours before you put a shirt and shorts on it tomorrow. So bend over that table and let me see how much you have forgotten of your sex training.'
As Pete bent over the back of the table and spread his legs three feet apart revealing a tight looking brown hole, I stepped out of my light shirt and slacks of the day. In the Palace, in the heat of the Dahran day, I normally do not wear underwear, and my touching of Pete's body had caused an incipient erection.
Pete's anus was took enticing to leave unattended or ignored, so I positioned my hardening member on its sphincter muscle and pushed in without any true foreplay.
Pete buttocks pushed back slightly against the pressure, and my cockhead pushed by his entrance and into the warmth of his inside rectum which had been lubed in anticipation. I noticed the gentle curve of his lower back and the smoothness of the cheeks of his backside, and their vision made me harden, allowing me to pull out and press back in a number of times, barely moving my hips. Pete's eyes were closed as he rested his head on the leather cover of the table, the palms of his hands on either side of his shoulders. Now there was a slight smile on his face as the pleasure of the entering cock took the measure of his tightness.
I aimed in and down and my cock found his prostate in passing. Pete open his mouth and said a silent `Aghh!'.
`Does Randy fuck you like this, Pete?
`No, Master, we don't fuck. We suck each other off each night and again each morning. Randy loves to rim me and I love to lick his balls, and I try to take as much of his cock down my throat as I can. But since the mine, Master, you are the only one to have gone in there.'
`Am I now? No, more Todd.'
`No more Todd, Master. No more anyone but Randy.'
The thought of Randy's thin but very long member going down Todd's throat and past his vocal cords send me over the edge. I came as if I had not come in a week. At times, we all need but a little trigger to reach great heights.
When I pulled out, Pete needed no instruction but came and licked my cock until it was clean again.
As he finished, I said, `Well, Pete, have you told Randy your good news?'
`No, Master, he was late back from the fields.'
`Well, off you go. Don't keep Randy waiting with your good news.'
He slipped down to his knees put his head on the floor beside my feet, and put my right foot on the back of his head. I let it rest there some seconds and then told Pete to get up.
`Serve me well, Pete.'
`Master, I won't let you down.'
With all the information, I needed from the overseers, it was simpler to have dinner with them to seek their opinions and that is what I did one of the evenings. The arrival of the recent thirty odd extra slaves had put additional pressure on Yuriy and that was why, in part, I had called the meeting of overseers.
Stan with his two Poles, as assistants and lovers, was more and more looking after the fabric of the Palace and the buildings, apart from his early morning vegetable duties into which he roped his two assistants which did speed up matters.
He had not wanted the Brazilian Sergio around as he thought that he was more a household slave, and Sergio's always half-erect cock and magical skin colour would have tempted even an angel off his heavenly perch at any hour of day and night.
Rolf, I had made gym trainer and an assistant overseer and he was being helped more and more by Vitali, the Russian.
Greg and his lover Jess were in charge of retraining incoming slaves.
As the assistant overseers, at that time, did not normally eat food other than the slave biscuits, I had Flavio prepare a simple vegetable soup, a consomme julienne, for all of us, which we all partook sitting on the veranda, sipping Bob's limewater.
It was an important moment for them. They could be seen by any passing slave passing, and I thought to myself that more than a fair share of slaves need to visit their quarters or the courtyard during that evening meal, seeing their immediate superiors enjoying the favour and the confidence of the Master and seated at my table.
We talked longer than usual and the ever-attentive Bob, as dusk was approaching and evening growing cooler, removed our dishes and placed two lanterns crafted in glass and ornate metalwork on the table. The tranquil flames of their flickering wicks illuminated our faces as the first pale vesper stars appeared, and we discussed the affairs of the Palace in the enveloping dusk of evening.
I asked Yuriy how the fields were going and he took his time in replying.
`All is going well, Master, but I would like to suggest some changes.'
I nodded for him to continue.
`I would like to divide up the work so that I can supervise it better for you. I cannot keep my eyes on thirty slaves and less on the extra slaves who have arrived recently.'
`You have given this some thought, I think, Yuriy. So what do you suggest?'
`I would like to recommend that Dumi, Todd and Jiri be made assistant overseers for the fields, Master. Each would be responsible for twenty or so slaves.'
Aziz looked over at me.
`Aziz?'
`Dumi is an excellent choice; Todd has settled in very well and is a good choice. Jiri is very young and I wonder, why, Yuriy, you have not recommended Radek who is better experienced.'
Because, Master,' he said addressing me, Radek is my companion and lover, knowing not only my body, but also my mind. But if I recommend Radek, you and everyone else will say it is because he is my lover.'
`But, Yuriy, if as Aziz says Radek would be a better overseer, would it not be better to say that he should so be?'
`Yes, Master.'
`Good, then Dumi, Todd and Radek it is. I shall tell all the slaves tomorrow at inspection, and Pete will going to be the assistant head of household.'
The following evening we again met and I then told the overseers in greater detail of my plans to build the Lime Palace on the newly acquired lands beside the Aloe Palace and asked each of them to make suggestions on what could be better done in the layout than at present in the present Palace. It was my intention that the new Lime Palace when completed would be my new home.
That was the second surprise for them in one evening.
`What this means is that each of you will have to train an assistant who can do similar duties to yours in the new Palace. Each of you, Yuriy, Rolf, Stan and Greg will have to name your equivalent in the new Palace, that is if you do not want to move there yourselves and leave the assistant here.'
They were very quiet at the thought of it, but I told them to think about it and they said they would, and I closed the dinner by saying we would all talk about it again.
I told Yuriy to hold back after the dinner. He was the exception in more was than one among all my slave and overseers.
They say you always remember your first lover. I can truly say as well that you will always remember your first slave.
`Yes, Master,' he said as he drew close.
`Tell Radek to find a buddy for tonight. You will share my bed tonight.'
There was his usual smile of contentment at such an order and off he went to inform his lover and buddy.
Yuriy, as stables overseer, was the lynchpin for the cultivation of what would in time be just under 500 hundred acres of vegetables at the Aloe Palace. He now had some fifty of the Palace slaves at his disposal and twenty or so of the rotating Swedes, who in their straw hats just loved being outdoors and at work.
Yuriy, with his perfect skin, now slightly tanned by his continuous farm work, was a superb looking slave, and I generally tried to take him, thought an overseer, to my bed usually about once a month as I now wanted to do that very evening.
It was as if all my important decisions had to be impregnated in Yuriy's body, the start of my ownership of slaves, the foundation of so much pleasure to me. Being my very first slave, Yuriy pleased me immensely with his fine musculature but also with his quiet personality.
He was a top who when captain in the Kazakh army had bedded all his young recruits in a bonding which left them in adoration of him.
However, with me he was usually a bottom and when I had finished with him, Komil who would normally be at `rest' beside the bed, would then slip onto the bed and slip his ten inch cock up Yuriy's already buttered bung hole while I let Yuriy duel his tongue with mine as we lay side by side.
Every time I would hear Komil's breathing change, I would start to gently nip Yuriy's firm tits with the nails of my thumbs and middle fingers, his bucking and backing up against Komil's rock hardness was all that was ever needed for the two to come with Yuriy's semen spray going all over the place as usual.
Komil would stay inside him, until Yuriy reached back and gave him a good hearted smack on the bum, at which Komil would pull his still ten inch cock out with a single back pull to a resounding `plop' and grinning from ear to ear go into the bathroom to shower.
Yuriy liked then to top, putting my arms up over my head and concentrate on my armpits, where I would leave him alone until I would be able no longer to bear his licking tongue. That night he was not different and never disappointing for a sexual moment. Exhausted I drifted off to sleep between two perfect lovers, my Yuriy and my Komil.
The following morning at inspection, there was a quiet happiness all round when Pete, Dumi, Todd and Radek received their ivory fly-swishes as each was known by all to be very hard working slaves, never shirking their duty or obligations.
That third week in January, not yet nine months in Dahra, I spoke with a firm of architects and builders in the capital city -- Annan and Annan, the same two brothers who had built the fountain before the Dahran Bilton - and told them what I wanted, a Palace to my own design and specification of over one hundred thousand square feet, surrounded by special residences for overseers and slaves, garages, stores, gardens and water fountains. The news of this contract was not to get out of their offices.
They came back within two days with a twenty page list of the parts, sections, items and heavens else knows what that could or should be in a Palace from the mundane items of air-conditioning and sewage systems to an Olympic-sized swimming pool and a sports facility, plus sleeping quarters capable of housing six hundred slaves and thirty servants or overseers, not forgetting thirty full bedroom suites. I left the whole list with the overseers and told them to make suggestions.
Interestingly enough, when I look back on it, some of the best suggestions on the decor of the Lime Palace came from Pete Downings. He had an innate sense of colour and could see the blend of shades in his mind's eye without ever seeing even a physical room
But whether it was because Stan, with his two acolytes Marek and Jerzy, had so much to do with the physical fabric of the Aloe Palace, his or rather their joint set of suggestions on the layout of solar panels, further windmills, a sewage system which did not require a physical and manual dumping of full tanks, caused many a raised eyebrow when the architects went over `my' suggestions for improvement on their plans.
What was surprising was the manner in which Stan and his two assistants took it to heart to have me buy and consult a considerable number of book on architecture on the Gulf region for inspiration.
When all of these suggestions were compiled, they were all put to the slaves, and a further list of minor items emerged which would have been irritating had they been left unthought of. Which to my mind merely proved, that you always have to ask the customers or ultimate users what they want or don't want.
The second thing I did that week was to arrange a dinner at the Aloe Palace for my twenty neighbours who were buying water from me. I first asked Aziz and Flavio, the Italian slave who was my chef, what the problems would that cause, if any.
Aziz said that he would train twenty of the slaves how to wait on guests. This turned out to be relatively easy, as most had some idea already and Marek and Jerzy in their former lives had done just that. Flavio merely wanted to know what I wanted on the menu, and I said I would leave that to him.
I first rang Jalal al-Akhri, one of the landowners and a brother of the Deputy Finance Minister, to tell him that an invitation would be on the way, and how could I get the message across to my neighbours that this was a dinner invitation only, that I did not want any presents from any of them.
Jalal laughed out loud and said, `Sir Jonathan, that is almost impossible. You know our customs. We cannot arrive at a person's home without a present. It is simply not done. But I will pass on the word, not that I think any one will take heed of it.'
Aziz took care of the invitations. It turned out that only seventeen of my twenty neighbours could attend, as two were out of the country on business and a third on holidays with his family. But all the rest were delighted to attend including Jalal.
The dinner was superb. Flavio had got in five of the slaves to help in the kitchens including the two Poles Marek and Jerzy, who back in Poland had been a barman and waiter respectively and over a three day period had prepared much in advance.
With Bob's and Sergio's help, who turned out to be quite a maitre d'hotel stewarding all and everyone in the most efficient of manners, the service was faultless.
I was very pleased in that all available guests arrived well on time and accompanied by a body slave. I was too busy to notice this detail, until Aziz pointed it out to me as being a little unusual but not actually impolite, but then admittedly, he had not arranged a dinner party in some time.
None of the guests had brought a present and I was able to ask them without appearing obsequious how was the supply of water proceeding. To a landowner, they were delighted at the quality, quantity and the price, which was about two-thirds of what was being paid elsewhere. What they particularly liked was that there was no obligation to buy any minimum or daily or monthly amount. They merely and simply bought what they needed and no more.
I told them that I really valued their friendship and that they were my neighbours, in that the lands reclaimed from the desert and used around mine would only be to all our benefits, and that as a token of my affection towards them, - Arabs being very affectionate people -- that their water charges for the next month, would be only half the normal.
`Why the reduction, Sir Jonathan?' one asked quite astonished.
`Because it pleases me to do so, and I hope it pleases you all to accept.'
They stared over at Jalal al-Akhri who raised his shoulders and his hands to indicate that he knew nothing of all of this.
The same neighbour again said with a smile, `And Jalal phoned us to say that we were not to even bring you a present, this evening. Now we owe you a favour for a beautiful dinner and the gift of water next month. But maybe, Sir Jonathan, we are not as easily influenced by Jalal as you might think. Three of our esteemed neighbours are away, but they have sent you a present each' and with that he clapped his hands.
The glass doors out onto the courtyard were pulled back and in walked three prime specimens of slavehood. This was a re-run of what had happened to me before when I had helped the al-Akhri family make a fortune in nickel and they had given me six slaves.
Here it was happening all over again. Three beautiful naked young men in their late twenties to early thirties, well muscled and better than well endowed, walked into the centre of the room. Strangely enough, they made no sign of making obeisance, as they should have.
Jalal then spoke up, `That is strange, Sir Jonathan, we seem to be missing something here' and he too clapped his hands, whereupon the seventeen body slaves who had been in attendance each on their own Master, stood up and joined the first three in the middle of the room. When the last had joined the lines, the whole lot went on their hands and knees and make obeisance to me. I was thunderstruck. I think the look on my face, caused the entire group to start to laugh and to clap their hands at my consternation.
`Sir Jonathan, you now have your own Australian football team to train' Jalal said and again my guests roared in laughter.
My own comment of almost a year previously to Jalal's brother -- that my type of manhood was the Aussie Rules type -- had again been brought to bear on me.
I went from each of my guests to the next embracing them, laughing, almost crying. They said they had not had so much fun since something at a camel derby some years previously.
`Camel derby?' I said totally lost.
`A long story, Sir Jonathan, but simply put, some of us love racing camels, and in this private race some years back, we were hard pressed to find any animal to beat two camels owned by a very boastful owner from one of the northern tribes.'
`So on the morning of the race, we arranged for these two animals to be given two full bottles of laxative with their morning feed. By the time the race came round, it was too late for them to be pulled out of it without the owner losing face, and when the starter's flag dropped, the two camels, forced to race, farted and shit their way from start to finish, and the look of consternation on the owner's was no less beautiful than that on your own face when those slaves made obeisance to you just now.'
As Jalal recounted the rather excremental tale, the tears rolled down the faces of various of our esteemed neighbours as they remembered the event.
But before me presently, there were no camels, but around half a million euro of prime slave meat at `display' in the centre of my dining room. Each would have graced any of the Aussie Rules teams.
One of the neighbours also said something to the effect that if ever there was something they could do just to say the word.
Being a hobbyist, I said that I was creating a garden of cacti and succulents from all part of the Sheikdom and that if any of their employees or slave came across a rare type that I would love to have a cutting of it.
As they did not know what I was talking about at all, and considered such hobbies as an English madness, I said I would sent them round a file of the cacti I already had and anything new to it would be appreciated. Some of them smiled at my earnestness. But that is what hobbies are all about for the enthusiast!
It had been a splendid evening and a successful one for cementing business relationships. The only one disappointed was Greg, who saw that all the new arrivals were broken in and did not need retraining. But like a true appassionato, he loved practising his new-found skills at every conceivable opportunity.
Aziz was a little concerned initially at the immediate accommodation needed for the new twenty, but an additional outbuilding was refurbished over two days and all was well. The first ten were assigned to the second ten as buddies to share their nightly pallet and, in the tradition of the Aloe Palace, to wash and shave and shower and jerk off their buddy each morning, so as bring them into our loyalty system, but not to fuck each other. That was to be my right and privilege.
Also, out of deference to my neighbours who had made such splendid gifts, I told Aziz that I would quickly bed each of the new gifts over the next twenty nights.
Those nights flew as I sexually exercised each slave to his limits, and though they all were undoubted not gay, they had been well versed and trained in man-sex, and in particular how to please a demanding Master. I, however, tried to let each one shine according to the sexual techniques each had learned to a certain basic degree.
Over the next fortnight, I met with Annan and Annan, the architects.. They asked me who my interior designer was as they would like to employ him for other work, but tongue in cheek, I replied that he only accepted private commissions.
They had sent me originally twenty closely typed pages of specifications - almost six hundred different items covered in all. When I returned them each of those pages with almost every line commented upon and not one, but at times two or three suggestions made, on that score alone, the architects asked if I had employed consultants previously in the matter. I murmured something to the effect that I had had some consultations with on the spot experts, and left it at that. To say that they were more respectful afterwards would be an understatement.
What pleased me immensely in the final analysis as I said to both overseers and slaves one morning at inspection was that every single one of them had made at least one recommendation which would appear in the final plans of the new Lime Palace.