Dahran

This is the ninth chapter ex twenty two of a novel about slavery and gay sex.

Keywords: authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, gay, sex

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 Special Memories by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 9 - The Buddy Foundation

My private banking is done though the Grand Cayman Islands in the Caribbean. Utterly private, utterly discreet, no taxes to speak of. I have always, since the earliest days my banking career, held a small account there and when my finances took off in the latter years at Deckhams and more recently with the influx of water revenues and payments for accepting unwanted EU prisoner embarrassments, the account became sizeable.

I had set up the Foundation, first, as a vehicle to do various things I had wanted to do and secondly, as a 'blind' so to speak, so that no one would be able to penetrate as to who was initiating or continuing to do any particular action in hand. My front man there was Josh Green, a lawyer recommended by my Grand Cayman Bank.

Josh Green was the best kind of lawyer. He never asked questions. He did what he was told and he never presented a bill. When I had queried him on this latter point, he had said, 'Sir Jonathan, I am sure in time you will pull out your chequebook.'

Now was that time, but not quite in the way Josh might have thought. I rang him with my idea and he agreed. He, Aziz al-Aziz -- the new freeman of Dahra and my nephew Jack Tuttle -- with whom I had not yet spoken on the issue, would become Directors with me of the Buddy Foundation, so as to ensure both the continuing of the Aloe and Lime Palaces and of the Foundation itself. I said, our salaries for that work would be a million euro a year, evenly split between the four of us and I instructed him to transfer to the Foundation seventy five million euro from my general account. Like a good lawyer, he did not say a word other than, "Anything else, Sir Jonathan.'

There was nothing else to do at that point with him, but I would have to talk with Aziz and Jack.

I had deliberately not spoken with Aziz either about his freedom, or about the removal of his slave ankle bracelet, so as to let the whole idea of personal liberty settle with him. I cannot imagine what it must have been like for him to become a freeman at almost fifty years of age after a lifetime of having been a slave and a slave overseer.

I have always found that the easiest way to talk of serious things is over food and I therefore had Aziz join me for dinner two evenings after his becoming a freeman. All his old civility was there -- bowing to me when he came into the dining-room -- to which I responded by going up to him and embracing him as an equal.

It was interesting to see Aziz try out different food other than the biscuits and their recent accompaniment -- our common bowl of vegetable soup. He ate sparingly, eating a little of each dish, tasting each of Flavio's creations, lingering over the portions so long that the dinner took twice as long as usual. I normally do not eat quickly anyway, but I did find myself politely eating very slowly.

I put various thoughts to him; -- that he might like to build himself a residence on the grounds of either the Aloe Palace or the Lime Palace, for himself and his staff and slaves.

He looked sharply at me at that point, as if I were pulling his leg or something, but I think that he quickly realised that I was not. He merely nodded then and continued to listen.

I told him that I had made him a Director of the Buddy Foundation and explained to him what the Foundation had done to date by way of the investigation into the backgrounds of the slaves and the setting up of the scholarships and so forth and also what it might do in the future.

I put it all to Aziz al-Aziz after I had explained it fully to him, what his responsibilities would entail should I ever die. He first looked at me and said, "Master, given our ages, I shall be dead first, but I am honoured to be a Director.'

The salary from the Buddy Foundation did not seem to register with him and he merely said, "Master, you will have to advise me on money, as I have never had it or used it as my own.'

I don't think he realised how much a quarter of a million euro a year would be as his salary as a Director of the Foundation, but he seemed relaxed when I said, he need have no worry on that score, that whenever he would need financial advice, a banker member of the staff at Deckams would be at his service.

I also told him to take from both Palaces' slaves, those whom he wanted as his own. At this he was genuinely moved and did not speak for some while, but merely moved the remaining vegetables on his plate round and round with a fork. When he replied, 'Master, the only slave I would take with me is Yedo. If that would please you.'

'Yedo and whatever other slaves you may want.'

'None other, Master'

'Well, let me think about that, Aziz, and please from now on, I know it will be difficult for you, but do please call me Jonathan.'

Again he looked shocked for a second at having fallen back into addressing me so naturally for him as `Master, then gave a small smile and said, 'Yes, Jonathan.'

We ended the dinner by agreeing to have a small residence of about three thousand square feet built for him beside the new cactus gardens of the Lime Palace.

After business, it is always to good to relax and for me, the best relaxation is the sexual interaction with my slaves.I believe that as a Master, I am reasonably easy to get on with. My slaves have specific functions to do, functions with a purpose which are either for the running of the Palaces or quite simply to give me please, either indirectly such as looking after my cacti and water gardens, or directly filling my sexual needs in or out of bed.

I had noticed that a small different cactus plant in flower was always now appearing on the veranda of the Lime Palace just at my elbow where I normally took breakfast. This was done either by Food or Drink and when I found out it was they, they merely did one of their little dances from one foot to the other, and laughed with glee at having been discovered. In their own way, such a small service was indirectly looking after my pleasure. As a reward, I took them both to bed that night, but not before I had treated myself to one of Vitali's massages.

As my own masseur among the slaves, Vitali, while not having the wide hands of Abdul nor indeed Abdul's electrifying touch, his expertise could not be matched, and I have never found it matched abroad. I asked Vitali how he and his buddy, Ross, were getting on.

`Like this, Master,' and being on my front while he was doing my back, he spread the cheeks of my bum and rimmed my asshole for over ten minutes. By the time he had finished, I was grasping the edge of the massage table and wondering should I find release or hold on for later that night.

When Vitali Belov finished his rimmed, he came round to the front of the massage table, hunkered down to eye-level and said with an ear-to-ear grin, "Now, Master, what was that question?'

I envied Ross, my London slave, the nightly attention of Vitali's hands and lips and tongue, but his massage gave me new vigour to put Food and Drink though their paces until late into the night.

To say that Food and Drink are versatile in bed is an understatement. They are totally uninhibited and quite insatiable twenty plus years olds when they are sexually excited, which is easily done. As each pleasures me, the other keeps reminding the first how I like it this way or that way with comments like You're not squeezing the Master hard enough', Now harder, Ali,' `Now more quickly, more quickly, Ali.'

While I refer to them both by their nicknames of Food and Drink, the cousins always refer to themselves by their given names, and when their love-making is winding down and I have them licking and sucking my nipples one apiece, I take great delight in seeing them speared, in turn, by my Komil and his thick and long member which he knows how to shoot almost at will.

However, the night I offer Aziz his own slaves was particularly pleasurable and even Food was exhausted for once after being resoundly penetrated for over fifteen minutes my Komil, when he said, "Master, I won't be able to chase geckos for a week.'

At the morning inspection the following day, though it was Aziz's turn to take the inspection, I waited until he had finished and then spoke to the slaves present.

I stated that Aziz al-Aziz would be taking up new and important duties and that a fitting residence was to be built for him here beside the cactus gardens of the Lime Palace.

'I have transferred ownership of Yedo Petrov, to Aziz and I will transfer ownership of any slave who wishes to regard him as a their new Master. Think about it today and after dinner this evening, anyone who wishes to be the slave of Aziz al-Aziz approach me and let me know.'

I had intended to speak with Jack Tuttle, my nephew, at the Bank that day and although we drove there in the limousine for over an hour in the morning, I had too many papers to read and absorb and the day flew by without an opportunity.

As we were about to drive back to the Lime Palace in the afternoon, I had Jack, who usually sat up front with Faisal the driver, come sit with me in the back.

I let him sit there and fidget for well on fifteen minutes and when I thought he would explode with curiosity, I said, 'Jack, pour me a glass of water and one for yourself' - there is a small refrigerator and bar in the back of the limousine.

He handed me the glass of water with its cube of ice and when he had his own ready, I toasted him.

'Congratulations, Jack.'

'On what, Uncle Jonathan?'

'On your becoming a Director of the Buddy Foundation.'

I clinked his glass.

'You know, Uncle Jonathan, you're not supposed to toast with water.'

'That, Jack, is in Egypt. This is Dahra, where water is the most precious of liquids. Now can I fill you in on what your duties with the Foundation are going to involve, or are you going to stand on protocol.'

The young near twenty year old, who was capable of running naked around the Lime Palace, grinned and said, 'Please fill me in.'

His eyes widened when I mentioned the reports and investigations done and became positive saucers when I mentioned his Foundation salary of quarter of a million euro.

'Uncle Jonathan, do you know what I am doing at the moment and the salary I am earning?'

'Mailroom and something in the region of twenty five thousand.'

He nodded and I continued, "and after the mailroom, it will be Stationery, Reception, Dividends, Administration, Wages and Salaries. Do you want me to continue?'

'Why the Foundation, Uncle Jonathan?'

'With the Foundation, there will be continuity, family and all that. With the Bank, you have to know precisely where every rung of the ladder is. If you do, you will never despise or think little of the person who puts the stamp on the letter or whatever.'

He nodded and I hoped he had understood just half of what I was trying to say.

'Remind me when we get back to the Palace to give you a report on Tuttles, which we will discuss as we drive back to the Palace tomorrow evening and you have to write me a cheque for ninety nine euro made out to JT Investments Limited. Got all of that?'

'Yes, Uncle Jonathan. Got it all.'

I had thought that Aziz would be the more difficult of the Directors here in Dahra for the Buddy Foundation, but he was not. Jack was. And Jack could be so infuriatingly stubborn and hard-headed at times. Although he had seemed enthusiastic in the limousine, he came to me later that evening and wanted to refuse on grounds of age. He said, he was too young, too inexperienced.

For the first time, he admitted that he had difficulty in controlling even his own two slaves, Vedel and Beno.

I wanted to be smart and clever and say that his age problem would be cured in time, but inside the denial, I could see that he really cared about all those who lived at the Aloe and Lime Palaces, so I put my tongue in my cheek and remained silent.

I finally caught him in his own argument saying, 'Look, Jack, if something happened to you, would you like me to look after Vedel and Beno and see that they were always safe.'

When he admitted that yes, that was the case, I merely said, 'game, set and match. If anything were to happen to me, I can think of no finer person to look after my Palaces and my slaves than Jack Tuttle, now aged all of twenty years.'

And that was that. The Foundation had now its three new Directors and never looked back.

Money is quite clearly an aphrodisiac to some and the promotion of issues, programmes, initiatives, the creation of momentum, all create a sexual tension, which has to be released.

Before dinner, I checked to see if Rob Kuiper and Niko Zeil, the two Afrikaner slaves, were otherwise engaged on a training assignment. Happily they were not and I had Komil put them on standby to be my two playmates for the night. Even though my right of Master might take precedence over the slave's wishes, I have usually found it best to leave existing programmes well and truly alone. And anyway, there is quite a selection when you have near on six hundred other slaves to choose from for a night.

When all the slaves were assembled after dinner and before they broke up for their evening strolls or saunas, or whatever they normally did in their free time at night, I asked them, which of them wished to transfer ownership to Aziz al-Aziz.

There was quite a stillness in the courtyard and then Mehmed and Mamoud, my two former garden slaves who were now assistant overseers at the Lime Palace, came forward and made an obeisance on the steps of the veranda and were followed by Hassan, the Arabic teacher and his lover, Pavel the Russian. It surprised me, but pleasantly in a way, when Ali and Jiri stepped forward as well.

I called also Yedo, Aziz's six foot eight shadow, forward.

'Does each of you freely wish to transfer to Aziz's ownership?'

There were 'Yes, Master' from each of them.

'From this moment on, you will accept formal instructions only from Aziz and from no other,' and I went and embraced each one of them as Aziz looked on.

'Until Aziz's new residence is built, you will live in the quarters in the Lime Palace. Now make your first obeisance to your new Master.'

Each of Aziz's new slaves went over and prostrated themselves at his feet and placed his right foot on the nape of their neck and then moved to his side and merely sat at his feet. He ran his fingers through each of their closely cut heads of hair as he had frequently seen me do to my slaves and he looked over at me with deep contentment in his eyes.

I could not figure out in my own mind for what reasons any or all of them would have wished to change ownership. Yedo, yes, I could understand in a way. He had this almost symbiotic and almost intuitive relationship with Aziz and saw his power as an assistant overseer derive formerly from Aziz as the head of my household and now from Aziz as a Master in his own right.

And I think it was because of Yedo that Mamoud and Mehmed transferred ownership, so as to be near Yedo. While the two layabouts, as I still think of them, were not just cousins and lovers, it was Yedo who was a lover to both and frequently he was to be seen striding across the courtyard with each of them under an arm, as they protested and struggled -- but not too strongly -- being brought in for their morning fucking by the giant Bulgarian.

I had never witnessed their sexscapades of this trio for some reason, but Bob who had, warned with his impish humour not to, unless I wanted to end up with an inferiority complex and that particular morning at my breakfast table, had separated his hands to about fourteen inches apart and brought both his thumbs and forefingers together to make an all-too-big circle, either representing the girth of Yedo's cock or the hole needed to accommodate it.

I also think that Mamoud and Mehmed needed in their own minds a strict, punishing and authoritarian father figure which Aziz indeed was to his slaves.

I was glad that Hassan had made the change of ownership. I just did not get on with him either as a slave or as an Arabic teacher, despite what Aziz had said in his teaching favour. Pavel, his lover, was a submissive, who went where his dominating partner went and that was fine with me.

I could never conclude properly why Ali and Jiri made the move to Aziz. They both helped Rolf in the gym and particularly in looking after the swimming pool area. They were happy slaves in their own way and I had had more dealings with the dark Ali and his marvellous tongue than with the totally blond Czech, Jiri Aron, who had never given cause for concern or rebuke.

Rob and Niko, together with Komil, were at 'rest' when I went into my bedroom suite and immediately went to 'display'.

'Four tops tonight, eh, Rob, Niko. This is going to be interesting. Right? I hope you two lads are well lubricated tonight, if not double lubricate yourselves while I am undressing'

'Right, Master,' both of them echoed a little bit dubiously and both dashed for the bathroom and the lubricants in the mirror cabinet.

When I had undressed, they were back in the bedroom at 'display'. I led Niko over to the bedroom wall, had him face it and told him to stand relaxed at 'rest' with his hands behind his back.

'Now, Rob, you and I are going to sixty-nine a little, but I only want you to lick the shaft of my cock and my balls. Got it?'

'Yes, Master.'

I lay down back in the middle of the bed with my head at its end and Rob took up his position over me with his cock perfectly positioned over my lips. When I had run my tongue over his ever-hardening shaft a couple of times, I signalled Komil who was standing by now with a his own sizeable cock hardening by the minute, to come and slip it slowly into Rob.

Though Rob had been trained, even as a top, to take a cock the size of Komil's up his chute, it took some minutes for Komil to even get half his considerable size into the now perspiring Rob. I had Komil rest, half in, half out of Rob's butt hole and continued to lick his balls and continued backwards until I could also lick Komil's balls which were the size of two large plums. Komil loves having his balls licked, in fact, I think it is what he likes most of all, after impaling any unwary slave on his massive member.

If his member was steel before in Rob's chute, now it became diamond-hard. Rob groaned and Komil groaned as I continued to lick his balls. He resumed his inward road into Rob's most private of orifices, gently but firmly.

When I saw that Komil was fully in, he started that rocking motion that is all his. Not quite a pull out, but just a slight motion of the hips and my tongue on his balls all the time. Komil would not have come since the previous night and exercising restraint, he kept up his rocking motion for all of fifteen minutes, when he whispered, 'Master'. It was our signal for me to take one of his balls fully in my mouth and wash it for all I was worth with my tongue. Komil convulsed and jerked and quite literally impaled Rob full back on his full swollen and distended member. The ejaculation into Rob shook him to his core and caused him to ejaculate all over my chest. I followed up with a gentle licking of Rob's balls while the groans of his subsequent follow-up ejaculations occurred.

When we disentangled and Rob got up, he merely looked at me and then at Komil and said, 'Boss, oh Boss, I have been well and truly fucked tonight.'

I pointed him to the showers and followed him in to clean up before Komil and I spent the following half an hour with the still patiently waiting Niko, who turned out to be no less gratifying.

It is really one of the privileges of a Master to have such obedient and available slaves who have been well trained in sex.

As we drove back from the Bank the following afternoon, I asked Jack if he had read and understood, the report of Tuttles, his family's business. He said he had. I asked him to tell me what he had understood.

'As I understand it, Uncle Jonathan, Dad and my two uncles own 51% of the company and the other 49% is public owned and quoted on the Stock Exchange. The company has a good balance sheet' -- I looked at him under my eyebrows thinking 'what would a twenty year old understand about balance sheets', but let the thought pass -- 'and most likely will have to raise some money, if what is suggested here is correct that another factory has to be built, some debt paid off and some equipment replaced.'

For a twenty year old, it was not a bad assessment.

'And the value of the company?'

'On yesterday's prices, around $180 million sterling, Uncle Jonathan.'

'So, if an investor were to put in a straight forward injection of $45 million sterling purchasing new shares at yesterdays prices, what would the result be?'

'Can I write on the back of this, Uncle?'

'Be my guest.'

There was silence for about ten minutes as the limousine headed west.

Finally Jack cleared his throat, looked at his scribblings and said, "In round figures, Uncle Jonathan, the new investor would have 20%, the public shareholders 40% and Dad and my two uncles the other 40%.'

'Not bad, Jack, for a Bank employee who is still working in the Mailroom. By the way, have you that cheque for ninety nine euro, I asked you for?'

Jack pulled out his Lloyds chequebook and tore off the already written cheque.

'May I ask, Uncle Jonathan, who or what 'JT Investments Limited' are?'

'JT Investments Limited is a company incorporated in the Grand Cayman Islands to which the Buddy Foundation has just loaned sixty five million euro at 1% per annum for long-term business investment. I own one share in the company and you, Jack, now own, or will own ninety nine, once I have posted off your cheque. JT Investments are going to make an offer to Tuttles to take 20% - as you have so rightly calculated -- of an expanded Tuttles, for $45 million sterling, which is now just around $65 million, so as to allow it to build its new factory, get its new equipment and pay off some debt. Any further questions? And Jack, please close your mouth, it's unbecoming of an offshore Director.'

The rest of the trip home was an anti-climax.

Although I had one of the gift-slaves lined up for the night with Komil in attendance, Jack walked into my bedroom suite in his blue boxers and with a flick of his thumb indicated to the slaves to leave.

As he climbed into bed beside me, shucking down the boxers, he said, 'Uncle Jonathan, tonight I just want to hold you. Nothing more. My knees are still shaking after what you said in the car.'

`Jack, the day has been difficult. I need to get my rocks off. Pull up those legs over your head, because in my bed, you are definitely at my orders.'

I took his tightness and over the first time, it was not that much looser. Jack groaned, bit his lips, threw his hands around my neck, grasped the edges of the bed, shouted and panted as I played him like a fiddle for over an hour. When he said his hole was sore, I put enough lubricant on three fingers to satisfy a veterinary inspector examining the rear end of a bull, slipped the fingers into him to ease his hurting innards, and continued my fuck of his private entrance until I was no longer able to hold my outpouring of hot spurting semen.

Jack opened his hips as wide as he could and took it like the young man he was, my pubic bone hammering his perineum with each thrust.

And then, it was over. I lay down beside Jack, and with that, he put an arm around my waist, kissed my ear, whispered `thank you, Uncle' and promptly fell asleep as only the well and truly broken in can do.

End of Chapter 9