These are 2nd and 3rd chapters of The Reluctant Retrainer - part two of a trilogy of novels of gay sex.
Keywords: authority, control, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, loyalty
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The Reluctant Retrainer by Gerry Taylor
Chapter 2 -- All in day's work
They say that if you love your job you will never do a day's work in your life.
Well, I suppose I am somewhat in a situation like that. I told you in The Changed Life how Fate nudged me from being the outwardly successful merchant banker to being an accidental slave owner.
Accidental, because I did not set out to be a slave owner. Fate took a hand on three occasions. First, in sending me to Dahra, this beautiful desert country on the Gulf -- with a capital in the twenty first century and the remainder of the country embedded in the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries, if not earlier.
Secondly, because I saved a man's life. Now, that bit was accidental. Right place at the right time and all that!
Thirdly, because for some fateful reason, again the hand of Fate, I told the man whom I had saved of a business deal in which I was participating, and made him and his family quite an amount of money.
The second involvement with Fate had given me the gift of my first slave, Yuriy Obov, a Kazakh, now one of my overseers.
The third fateful involvement had seen me bestowed with six other slaves of whom Vitali, of whom I have spoken, was one, and before you could wag a finger of disapproval, I was not only their absolute owner, but the owner of a palace in the desert, the Aloe Palace, now my home.
A further ten slaves followed again before you could snap your fingers giving me a grand total of seventeen slaves before even my first quarter was up at the Dahran branch of Deckams, the bank where I work and am the local partner.
I early awoke that morning, I remember, as if I had forgotten something, or as if something had not been done. It came floating in like a beam of sunlight on the cool morning desert air. The new slaves needed to be started on a new course of training. Each slave is taught for 30 days the simple and not so simple procedures of the Palace. I takes that long because human habits need time to form, and in my case here at the Aloe Palace things have to be explained and explained yet again in various languages so that all can understand. I thought to myself that what is put off only gets worse.
Looking out my bedroom window, the morning was glorious. There is something about a totally unspoilt landscape, even if it is only rolling sands of desert outside the boundary walls of the Palace.
Food and Drink were still asleep on the bed. These are two body slaves whom I had purchased -- a bit of a long story there. While they were totally impish and playful for twenty year old Mehri Arabs, they had been disruptive in their former larger household, but were perfect for me, my bed and my household. Having been initiated in sex from an early age as part of their training, they were totally uninhibited in any sexual matter or posture or position, either on the own, with themselves, or more importantly with me, their Master.
Looking at Food and Drink, I knew that left to their own devices, they would stay in bed until the sun was well up, if not till after eight in the morning, when the Palace would be fully up and about.
But they did know that if they stayed in bed too longer, even without me kicking them out, they would miss their two biscuits -- half their day's food input -- which they would never miss.
I had breakfast on the veranda by the swimming pool where I normally liked to eat the first meal of the day. Flavio, the Italian slave, had been at work, though preparing a bowl of fruit and a pot of coffee can hardly be called backbreaking toil. Aziz, my fifty five year old household overseer, came across the courtyard towards the veranda. I invited him to join me but he declined. His previous Master had never asked him to sit in his presence, and old habits die hard. He did not like sitting in my presence at all, or even of me sitting down in his, when I would visit his office.
As usual, Aziz, was the peak of efficiency. He spoke of the various things to be done that week and what arrangements he had put in place. No item was to small to be ignored by his eagle eye. He suggested that the doctor be called to give all the slaves a medical check-up, as it should be done every three months. While most of the slave owners used the doctor in the area for their horses -- he was also a fully qualified veterinarian and surgeon out of one of France's best universities -- they used the same man for their slaves.
Jess, the last of the slaves, won unwittingly by me on a bet, was down for the dentist on Aziz's agenda. The laser specialist was also due around later in the week to remove some tattoos on Jess. I told Aziz that it should not be the same day at the dentist, because Dr. Thiecke usually gave a general anaesthetic as Aziz himself knew. The good dentist had this famous technique of doing a month's work in one single day.
Seeing Bob the Canadian slave, removing some dishes from the table, it reminded me again that I had only taken my first batch of slaves once to bed and that I really had to mould them to my own ways and habits of sex. I said to Aziz to see that I would have one each night of this week starting with Bob.
Bob had been the reason for the delay in breaking in the others. I had started one night to enter him, only to have him get violently sick, at the though of himself getting it up the arsehole. He was also almost unnaturally tight in his back passage.
For the past ten days, Aziz had him wearing a small three inch black butt plug and seen to it personally that he had the most vigorous of training sessions under Rolf, the Swiss gym trainer and my personal slave masseur, Vitali.
Usually after the first five minutes on the treadmill, I was told by Aziz, Bob would have the first of his ejaculations as the butt plug not only loosened him up but hit his prostate which was being unduly punished by the rhythm of his pumping legs.
So over the next five nights, I would take Bob, Radek the Czech, then Rolf the gym trainer himself, Dumi the Moldavian and again, Vitali the Russian, who was my masseur with the premature ejaculation problem.
The only slave of the initial batch I would not be taking I told Aziz was Flavio, who had originally been fist fucked by his `lifters', but whose grossly extended anal passage I had attended to in surgery, so as to give him a tight butt-hole. One day this week his lover Bob would finally be able to fuck him - a pleasure denied to him to-date, as I had told him, since Flavio had to voluntarily surrender himself first to me.
It was just seven and time to leave for the Bank. Aziz had his own schedule now to follow and my instructions to obey. I settled into the limousine for the hour's drive to the capital, the doing of my `homework' which was the reading of the daily Bank reports which would have arrived the previous day from our branches round the globe.
Chapter 3 -- A strange request
Arabs are one of the most courteous peoples in the world. They rarely if ever come to the point directly. They beat around non-existent and metaphorical bushes--I do believe simply because there are so few bushes in the desert. They ask about you and yours, your health and your business, and when all has been declared well to their polite satisfaction, then they get down to the matter which brings them to you, or they allow you to bring up the matter which has brought you to them.
In the course of the morning, my secretary told me that a Farouq al-Hamdi was on the line wishing to speak to me. It was from Farouq that I had `won' Jess Tollman, the slave who was due to go the dentist during the week. I had no idea what Farouq might want. I certainly did not anticipate what he would finally request -- a luncheon appointment merely being the vehicle or manner of laying out his problem.
`Lunch, Jonathan? Whenever you are available.'
`Where are you, Farouq?'
He, being a business man, quite apart from owing the country's largest opal mines, could effectively be anywhere in the world.
`I'm here in Dahra. Got back from Karachi last night. I'm here at my offices in the capital.'
Any day this week,' I replied to the availability' question, `but not Wednesday.'
`Well, then, how about today? I shall send the car around for you. Shall we say, collect you at twelve?'
I agreed. I felt slightly uneasy and at a disadvantage simply because I had unwittingly been part of a bet where I had won his slave. But he had been utterly charming about it -- he had over three hundred more. The `car' -- a latest model Rolls Royce -- arrived punctually at twelve, and fifteen minutes later I was in Farouq al-Hamdi's presence in his private dining room overlooking the avenue down to the harbour.
Farouq was graciousness itself. A man in his fifties, well build, at home in his Arab dress of dish-dash and ogal, the long white dress of Arabs with a simple black roped headband, though I did notice that it seemed to be trimmed with gold -- but very simple all the same.
Lunch was light as I have found it to be in Dahra. It is impossible to eat much in great heats and although the dining room was air conditioned, one's body with its own internal mechanism and corporeal clock was not. So great appetites were always blunted by the heat and humidity of the day.
As we arrived at what would be the equivalent of the pudding, as they say in England, and in Dahra a selection of beautiful figs from the lower foothills of the interior, Farouq came to the point of the lunch.
`My dear Jonathan, I could not believe it, simply could not believe it, when I found out that you had broken that annoying slave in less than twenty four hours.'
He was referring to my taking of Jess in hand and literally in an evening's fast work demolishing his resistance, his attitude and his disobedience, more by my good luck that he was susceptible to a lot of psychology and to some little pain.
I continued to listen to Farouq to see where all of this was leading.
`You know of my opal mining operation. It is the largest one in the Sheikdom, not only the largest, but the one which produces the finest gems, particularly the firestones and the so-called common yellow ones. Of my mine, I am very proud, and it accounts for a goodly portion of my wealth and business. It also accounts for over two hundred and fifty of my slaves, the others being at my home, which you must come to visit as soon as you can.'
I buy my slaves mainly to work the mine. I like them of a certain what you might term working class' or `manual labour' background - the sort of blue collar worker of which our American friends and sometimes allies speak. In fact, many of these slaves, almost one third of them, are American.'
`Apart from getting them to work in the mine, I do not really train them for anything else specifically. I have some decoration put on them to see how it turns out and if successful, these few move to my home. My overseers are mainly production people, mostly slaves who have a capacity for supervision and who have risen over the years to that position. Generally speaking, it is a well run operation and with no great administrative problems as regards the slaves. That is until recently.'
Farouq continued with his comments.
`In the past months, four of the slaves have been continuously causing trouble. A little here, a little there. An argument here, a disruptive word there. Now I am not a cruel Master. I am a businessman first and foremost. I have punished these slaves by having them whipped and starved. I have not had them punished by thirst in the sight of water -- like Rashid al-Akhri loves doing.'
He spoke of a slave owner, a brother of the man to whom I had done a financial favour. I had seen how he had left a slave strung up in the full Dahran sun for almost two days, with another slave pouring water from one jug to another in front of him without stopping day or night.
Farouq was not finished.
`I do not muzzle or brand my slaves. I do not cut off their Western foreskins in circumcision or castrate them for their disobedience. I am fundamentally a business man who uses a productive tool -- admitted a tool which I personally enjoy from time to time. So in a nutshell, my dear Jonathan, I am, as you English say, at the end of my tether.'
`If I sell off these four slaves, my reputation will be tarnished at not being able to control them. The word has already got out about my slave problem at the mine. It is really my own fault, I have been busy for some months on a new business venture in Pakistan.'
`Now, if I castrate these four slaves, there value is almost next to nothing, and I am not sure that this will actually solve anything. So, I am coming to you, to see if you could see your way to re-training these slaves to obedience and to their accepting me as their Master. You can set your own price, your own terms, anything you want, but you must not repeat what I have told you today. You must not speak to anyone of this. I do value my reputation.'
I looked at Farouq al-Hamdi as if he were mad. I am a banker, an Englishman and a merchant banker with one of the City's oldest firms. We helped finance the Peninsular War, for heaven's sake, both sides in fact, and here was I being asked to re-train slaves!
`Farouq, you mistake my abilities, my calling. The taming of your slave Jess was a chance, a fluke.'
Farouq held up his hand. `Jonathan, you are here in Dahra since last April, just under six months and you have a perfect household. It has been mentioned quietly among friends -- let me assure you -- that you have it running perfectly. You have the most obedient of slaves. You have your trusted slave overseers no less in your personal confidence after only months, which I have not managed after a quarter of a century. Most of us have to bring in and pay our overseers. You have a gift for this. Simply, name your price.'
`Farouq, a million euro.....'
Done, my dear Jonathan, a million euro it is.' Farouq, I was going to say that `a million euro would not be sufficient for me to take on the job'. I am truly astonished that you offer me a million euro to do it. It must be very important to you.'
`Jonathan, my reputation is. If this affects mining production, it will affect my reputation. If it affects my reputation, it will affect business. It is a vicious circle as you say. However, if you refuse, - he said quietly and slyly just to get to me I believe - I can only have these four slaves gelded as an example and sold off at al-Qatim at the next auctions.'
`Farouq, you are making it now sound like.....I don't know what. You will have four slaves castrated simply because I can't, no, won't take on this job.'
`Jonathan, please tell me, what will change your mind to take on this job. Please tell me and it is yours or it will be done.'
I could only look at the earnestness in his eyes and in his demeanour. I was wavering. Not for the money, but for a repeat of the thrill, no four repeats of the thrill, which I had got from breaking Jess Tollman, a tough American, in less than an hour. I had not had the heart to say to Farouq at the time that that I had taken so much less than a day to accomplish it.
`Farouq. Farouq. Let me suggest this to you. You say four slaves, and not more than four?' -- he nodded in agreement.
`Let me visit your mining operation and I will take away these four slaves for thirty days. Not a day more. If they break before the 30 days are up, they work for me for the remainder of those thirty days.. Also, I can do anything to one or all of them during those thirty days that I want. If they don't break by the end of thirty days, you get them back as they are'
`Jonathan, is that all? We have a deal and also I shall transfer one million euro to you today, because I want you to realise how really important this is to me, personally and business-wise. I shall be able to sleep well tonight knowing that I have called in the retrainer'--I had not heard that word before.
And he added, `When do you want to see my mining operation?'
To be continued...