This is the 6th chapter of Part One 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 Changed Life by Gerry Taylor
Chapter 6 -- Nickel
I brought Yuriy thought to the inner courtyard and through to a room where he would be staying. I explained to Cook, who was Filipino that Yuriy was there and would exercise and swim in the pool and keep the outside area clean. I also told my own driver that his duties of cleaning the property when not driving me around were going to be shared.
As the property was totally enclosed, I felt quite safe in leaving Yuriy there. He could quite easily escape from the property itself, it not being too secure a location. However, it had been explained to me that the titanium GPS bracelet on his ankle had two settings one to limit the wearer to the geographical area of the Sheikdom, something to do with grid map references, and secondly, it could be set on-line to limit the wearer to a designated five mile radius of a specific point within the Sheikdom. His setting was obviously the first one at present
When I got back to his room, I found him naked, having shed his tight cut-offs.. I took my time to explain, with a lot of gesticulation, where he could exercise, the pool where he could swim, and giving him a brush into his hand, I showed him that I expected him to sweep around the place. Finally, indicating four o'clock and pointing a finger then to myself, I made it clear the hour that I would be back.
When I got into the office it was almost 11.00. It was the first time that I got to see Gustav Ahlson actually excited. From early morning, transfer after transfer of funds had been streaming in from all around the globe to a newly opened account by Tariq al-Akhri. He almost had a seizure when I told him to let me know when they reached $3 billion.
I put a call in to London and told the chairman himself, Charlie Deckam, the good news that we needed to find a home for funds from a single new client to the tune of three billion euro. He asked me to repeat the figure as he thought there was noise on the line. Then he said, `My God, Jonathan, you're only out there. What? Four days?'
There was nothing really different to relate about the first fortnight at the Villa. Nothing really different, except that while Yuriy very clearly offered me his anal virginity on the first night, I would not take it. That was a pleasure for me to decide when and where.
However, I set myself the task of find out as many of his eighty plus erogenous zones as possibles. The funniest of all was when I licked between his big and second toes and he almost fell off the bed with his jump of pleasure.
On the one hand having a totally compliant slave is enjoyable, having one who has something in reserve, like his anal virginity to be taken at a pleasure or a whim, is a delight.
Being only able to use one arm, I took my time with my good arm in finding his prostate up his tight rectum. For over half an hour on the first occasion, I kept up a gentle motion in and out, until the reaction of his own body took over. His body realised that it was now being shared with a foreign intruder which was not harm it but giving it lubricated pleasure.
Yuriy bucked and groaned and gasped. His head went almost through the mattress of the bed. His arms came back to hold the cheeks of his ass even more widely open.
My single finger rode him like a bronco in the rodeo. Not all bucking at all times, but spirited and frisky, this human bronco knew that he was being well and truly saddled and ridden all the way home, even if it was only his prostate gland.
Yuriy's ejaculation was hard in a pattern of eruptions under him. His voice was hoarse. And as his last spurt came, I too went over the cliffs of desire and released my warm sperm over the lightly tanned cheeks of his butt.
Twice during the first night I awoke and each time he was also awake looking at me. Each time I just kissed him on the eyes or forehead and went back to a dreamless sleep.
But by seven, I was totally revived. I shaved myself and but Yuriy helped me shower for the day. He stood forlorn on the steps of the Villa as I went to work.
Having returned from the Bank that evening, I went for a swim and had Yuriy pace me. I am a good swimmer and but was not really able to swim hard with the plaster on my arm. He was easily keeping up with me. Once I tired, I got out and he immediately towelled me down. I walked into the bedroom, motioning him to follow me into the ensuite bathroom.
I decided to shave again, because I thought to myself that if I was going to do this, I wanted to do it properly and train in my slave. Yuriy's hand was rock solid. It gave me the opportunity to look at his face close up. He had clear Caucasian features, with a touch of central Asian blood in him.
When he had finished shaving me, I let the water in the douche run until it was warm to my fingers. I motioned Yuriy over and had him grasp the backs of his knees then inserted the douche nozzle into his rectum very gently. Ten seconds of water flow and I could hear a grunt. I pulled out the nozzle and sat him down quickly on the toilet. There was not much faeces, but to be on the safe side I did it again and the water was clear this time.
Before I bent him over for the third time, I held up the tube of KY gel and had him put some liberally on my middle finger. It can be infuriating to have to do things with only one hand, and not even your good hand at that. he did not have to be told to bend over, but did it himself. His anal passage was clenched so drum tight but I worked my middle finger in, pausing, inserting, touching, pausing, lubricating. He jerked when I touched his prostate which was down and to the left. I did not touch it again.
Domination takes two forms. That of active domination of the resisting person and passive domination of the acquiescing one. Yuriy at the moment was the latter.
It was now my whim to take his virginity. So I ordered him on his hand and knees on the bed, separated his legs as far as they would go, and put his two hands in the centre of his back.
I did not expect on this second occasion any real anal resistance but in fact there was very little. I was fully erect and quite hard. When erect, also my pre-cum is always very generous in its flow. Holding his hands in the centre of his back in an inverted handshake, I positioned myself, or rather my cock, directly opposite his anus and with one firm thrust I was sliding inside him.
His hands grasped mine firmly and he moaned a little, but it was the moan of an unusual feeling of intrusion, not that of pain. I set up a gentle motion, never fully coming out, but letting the tightness of the anal passage and rectum beyond feel the fullness of my cock's 6 inch circumference and its 7 and a half inch length.
I kept this thrusting action up for some minutes and then the relaxation of Yuriy's anal muscles happened early on just as I was expecting it. This allow me to direct all my thrust now down towards the left and soon I was hitting his prostate each time. His breathing became ragged at the same time as mine, but I had better control and he unleashed the pent-up semen in his balls in five or six gushes which I could feel splatter my thighs. His cries of pleasure echoed around the room. It was time for my own climax and I soared to the heights of pleasure and sexual release.
I turned Yuriy over and waddled up his body with my knees on either side of his chest. The heat that was coming off his sweaty body was awesome, though the room was not hot. I slipped my still dripping cock, wet with my own cum and his own anal tastes and the remnants of the KY into his mouth. He sucked me clean in no time with his tongue doing a nice little dance under my frennulum.
Not bad, I thought to myself. A good act of submission from a top who was now both my bottom and a cocksucker and whom I could train for the better. I had Yuriy spoon up behind me and fell asleep to the enchanting warmth of his body. I felt that I had established dominance quickly, efficiently and well.
Cook took a real shine to Yuriy when each day having completed his exercises, swim and yard duties, he would come in perspiring and, though naked, would sit down on his hunkers on the kitchen floor and start peeling vegetables.
I had been slightly worried about Cook, a good Filipino Catholic and all that he was who went to Mass each Saturday evening in the Italian Embassy, ostensibly for their `cultural soirée', but know to all the ex- patriates for its true purpose.
However, he and Yuriy got on like a house on fire, and when vegetables or whatever were done, Yuriy would wait for his next task assignment. The Villa's kitchen was never so clear before or after.
The driver who normally stayed at The Villa during the day having left me at the Bank also seemed to be getting on well with Yuriy, and from Cook, I learned that he was now beginning to go out each morning in his swimsuit and pace Yuriy in the pool for as long as he could.
But each evening Yuriy would be on the steps of the Villa in the courtyard, waiting like a puppy for his master to return, and bound down the steps to open the door of the limousine with a big welcoming smile.
It was early one morning at The Villa before I left for the Bank that a call came through from Tokyo, which was already five hours ahead of Dahra It was Tommy Elford.
While we all have a gut feeling for business at the Bank, there is an old world custom of taking one's time before getting down to it. I asked how my god-daughter was, to be told that she was taking to the Japanese like nothing on earth. She had already, at the age of three, a boyfriend next door according to herself with whom she played for hours on end, each speaking English or Japanese, and apparently understanding, at least according to herself, everything that she was being told. We laughed at the simplicity of life for children.
I asked how Janet was, to be told she was in her absolute element. The house was being decorated in traditional Japanese style and Tommy had slyly said to her that if she was going to do it she should supervise every last detail of it herself to ensure everything was both traditional and original. He sounded so totally relieved and said it would take Janet at least a year to do, and would cost him more or less half a million. I had not the heart to ask him a half a million of what, but presumed being on the Pacific Rim, that he was talking US dollars.
However, the true reason for the call was a pleasant banking shock to me. Tommy told me that the Russians had discovered just south of the Arctic Circle a deposit of nickel so large that they were going to guarantee world users of the metal a fixed price of 70% of the present price for the next five years.
Being true secretive Russians, they had kept its true size secret until production was due to start which would be just two weeks away and, being south of the Circle, they were guaranteed at least eight months clear mining a year on at least two entrances to the deposit.
Tommy Elford confirmed that the source was impeccable and had already cost him two Big Macs - our Bank code for two million euro for payment for confidential information - and would have to pay the source a further two Big Macs when the press release was made.
Jonathan,' he said, I owe your big time. This is the first instalment. By the way, I can find a home for half a billion of what you got in last week, if you can't find an orphanage for it. You take care.' And he was gone off the line.
Partners usually paid for Big Macs out of their own funds. It was not the Bank itself. Tommy had not mentioned the source, but I remembered that Tommy's inner circle Russian contacts were always impeccable and tip top.
The meaning of the news was simple. If nickel was going to be constantly cheaper than the going rate, any nickel producing related firm was going to drop in market value in the face of an extra supply.
Checking against the Banks' own database of corporations world-wide and their subsidiaries plus the list of sellers on the three principal world metal markets, I quickly identified twelve major firms in nickel producing or nickel transport on a variety of stock exchanges.
I placed a call to my personal Bank in Georgetown, Grand Cayman Island and placed twelve sale orders each for two million dollars on the stock of the twelve firms to be put done in the name of his Grand Cayman company.
By midday, I had confirming eMails back on each of the twelve transactions, which had been immediately carried out. If the press release did not materialise, I would have to go back in the market and buying the shares back to balance his account. Selling short was always a riskier business than buying long.
Sipping a midday sugar free soft drink, I then made what with hindsight was a call undoubtedly inspired by Fate herself. I called Tariq al-Akhri and asked if he were free for lunch that very day as I needed to speak urgently with him.
`On the recent deposits?'
`No, nothing like that, Tariq, they are now almost all securely invested and well invested, if I can say so myself. This is another matter.'
We met again at the same hotel in whose outside park there had been such a furore the last time of their meeting. I noticed that the previously destroyed bench had been replaced.
Tariq enquired about my wrist which had had its plaster changed and was improving rapidly.
`And my gift?'
`He is performing admirably. No problem whatsoever. Your generosity and the lodgements of your recent deposits are in a way the reason for my talking to you today. May I ask do you know if, among your other investments, you have anything in nickel?'
And with that, Jonathan left the question in the air and tackled a serving of Irish Smoked Salmon and brown bread and butter, as if they were the most important matter there.
`Nickel. I am sure that I have some investments in it somewhere. Let me ask.'
A glance to the side of the private dining room, brought one of his managers scurrying to the table.
`Nickel. What do I have in nickel?'
`One moment, your Excellency,' the manager said and moved as if to go away as he tapped on a laptop.
`Stay here.'
`Yes, Excellency. Let me see now. $111 million in various stocks.'
Looking across at Jonathan, and not knowing what was in the air, he said, `Do you think I should buy or sell?'
`I would advise your Excellency to sell.'
`How much?'
`All of it.'
`When?'
`Now.'
Turning to the accounts manager, Tariq said `Sell the lot today at best' and he dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
I could see that Tariq was burning to know the reason why and so I put him out of his misery and told him of the Russian find, its production and the guaranteed fixed price at which it would be offered for five years.
Knowing what guaranteed fixed prices could do to a market, Tariq nodded. `They must have found a mother lode something to like the gas we have found in Dahra. Thankfully we have not ever set a fixed price in oil or gas for more than a year, and never would think of setting it for five years.'
Tariq continued `Am I allowed share this information or is it for me alone?'
I responded carefully, `A colleague and I are sharing this information, but our sales will be just a fraction of yours and we have split the sales over three stock markets in my case. Sales of your magnitude will on their own depress the market further, but careful selling need not break the market. Whom may I ask do you have in mind?'
`My four brothers.'
I had guessed that much already and added again `as long as the sales are carefully done.'
In the following days almost half a billion in nickel stocks were sold world wide over the normal monthly figures. When the Russian press release came out the price of nickel dropped to 60% of its value two weeks previously. I reversed my selling of two weeks before and bought back the same volume of stock as I had sold. My nett profit was eight point two million dollars.
Tommy Elford rang to say that he had bought 4 Big Macs in all. When I said to him what would be left on the table, the reply was four Milk Shakes, the Bank's code for four million in profit.
`How is the house decoration going on?'
`Very slowly, thank God. It will take Janet years to finish it.'
To the sound of laughter, both of us hung up.
Tariq rang me about the same time and said what they had sold they had bought back again at a much reduced price, and that his brothers and he were very grateful for the financial advice.
I knew that what I had done was perfectly legal in Dahra. I had not acted on any insider or inside advice received from any of the Bank's clients, but making so much money in literally five days left me a little unsettled.
Two days later Tariq rang to say that he was sending someone over with a catalogue of items and would I please choose six of them. He asked me to look at all the items and to pick out what I thought was most beautiful among them.
I had thought that we were both talking about pictures or furniture or some such thing, so I was surprised when a Mr. Jennings arrived unexpectedly and was announced as coming from his Excellency. It was none other than the stables overseer, Gus, whom I had met at the Palace.
Gus Jennings remained standing though invited to sit down and handed over what seemed a simple binder with a soft tan cover. I flicked it open expecting to see some Chippendale tables or furniture or gallery pictures, but was shocked to breathlessness on seeing page after page of A3 size colour photographs of 50 young men, aged between 18 and 32 years, totally naked, obviously prepped in various ways for the photo shoot which, against a plain white background, gave a head shot, a full body nude, a side shot of the man standing beside a type of ruler on the wall for measuring height, a close of each cock when flaccid, and when erect, and last but not least as close up of each anus. At the end of each set of photographs, was the type of background which each came from. It was a slave catalogue.
By the time, I had finished the pages, I felt my face was completely red. I knew I had a hard on.
`What do I do?' I asked Gus, the overseer.
`The Master wishes to buy six slaves for his brothers. He wants the most beautiful. He wants you to choose. Just run through them quickly and tell me the number on the top of each page. When we get to six, we'll stop.'
Almost without thinking, I flicked back through the catalogue again and called out number of those I felt had something. A good face, buttock, a good profile, a good cock, in each case, a different reason.
Then all of a sudden, Gus shouted stop. There were four pages left in the slave catalogue, so I chose one more and deleted one of the previous. `Are you telling me there is going to be a slave auction here in Dahra?' I asked incredulously.
In al-Qatim tomorrow, in fact,' Gus Jennings said, the larger of the two deep ports. It's where the auctions have taken place since the fourteenth century. Do you wish to come and see how it is done?'
I was so shocked that I could only stammer a `No, thank you' to Gus, who nodded and left with the tan folder in his hand as if he were carrying a file of letters, instead of the future of six young men.
To be continued...