Date: Sun, 24 Aug 2003 18:14:55 +0100
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Reluctant Retrainer - Chapters 15 & 16

These are the 15th and 16th chapters of The Reluctant Retrainer, part two
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.

If you are underage to read this kind of material or if this material
will be unlawful for you to read where your live, please leave his
webpage now.

Contact points:

eMail: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com

Web: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories

The Reluctant Retrainer by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 15 -- `K'

Leaving the Swedes to the Lego-like building of their sauna, which had
arrived in a hundred and one parts, I left Kuwait for London on the new
Concorde for the monthly meeting at Deckams. The shuttle flight up from
Dahra had been uneventful.

It turned out to be a full meeting except for the partner from Buenos
Aires who was in hospital for a kidney stone or some such thing. Our
Tokyo partner, Tommy Elford had seen his shipbuilding finance deal gel
and he was looking forward, or so he told me, to letting us all know just
how much it was going to make for the Bank -- and of course, for himself
by way of bonuses.

Our chairman, Charlie Deckam, caught my eye as the partners were milling
around for coffee before the meeting and we slipped into his office.

`So, what, Jonathan have you and Gustav been up to in Dahra?'

He had this easygoing way about him of going to the heart of a matter and
at the same time never encroaching on your territory.

`Busy as ever, Charlie. The whole area is booming with the gas find.'

Going over to his leather-covered desk, he retrieved a folded letter,
which he handed me. The paper was so heavy it would have barely creased.
`The Palace wants to give you a `K', at 38 years of age. Nothing less
than Knight Commander of Saints Michael and George. Have you and Gustav
been slaying dragons?'

I could not understand why he was mentioning Gustav Ahlson, our general
manager in the Dahra branch.

`They asked me to sound you out. It is a bit rum, you know, for the
Palace to ask, I mean. Normally it is the PM's office nowadays. So, I
asked Timmy' -- one of the minor royals with whom he had been at Bayton
-- `what was up? Timmy, informs me that the request was from the Court
of Uppsala itself, monarch to monarch no less, and that the original
request was from a Count Gustav Ahlson.'

`Oops,' I thought. I had not mentioned to Charlie -- and he is related
to half the Royal houses of Europe and Krysti, his wife to the other half
-- that Gustav had been made a count. Well, after all, it was a private
and confidential matter.

`I think, Charlie, that you and I had better have lunch over this and I
shall spill the beans.'

`And what, dear Jonathan, do I tell the Palace?'

`I suppose, it will do the Bank no harm to have a knight on the board.'

`No harm at all, ` he murmured.

Under A.O.B. he gave the news to the Board that I was to be knighted for
services to banking and allowed himself to be the first to offer his
congratulations, asking the board to keep it under wraps for a week or
so, until it was announced by the Palace.

Lunch turned out to be like a confession for past demeanours. I filled
Charlie in. He did not interrupt until I had said `And that, Charlie, is
the whole story, so help me God.'

`Did you know, Jonathan, that we were in slaves until the 1840's or so?
-- the family I mean, not the Bank. We sold up in the US and went into
tea in Ceylon and cattle down in The Argentine as those countries were
then called. So, don't feel too bad about it -- you are only catching up
on the family.'

Charlie was pragmatic if he was anything.

`But it does explain another matter,' he continued `and I must see how
we handle it. I was approached when out shooting some months back by a
chap who was with me at Oxbridge. His family have always been into spying
since the Iron Duke himself. He knew, of course, that we have a branch in
Dahra, but was wondering if I knew why the Swedes would have one of their
satellites, the EricBird VII, in permanent geodesic orbit right over
Dahra. Permanently so, mind you. It seems the satellite was monitoring,
among other things, thirty four short-wave pulses, twenty five of which
were also being monitored also by ArabSAT IV, which he informed me was
their personnel monitoring satellite. He did not tell me, naughty boy
that he was, that that personnel in Dahra included slaves. So, if twenty
three are Gustav's slaves, and there are three, I am led to believe, at
the embassy whom I presume for their own safety they would monitor, plus
Gustav himself, our Swedish friends must be monitoring a further four
persons in Dahra. Do you have any idea, Jonathan, how many further
Swedish nationals are in Dahra on a permanent basis? Oh, and then he rang
me some weeks later to say the number of pulses had jumped to thirty
five.'

I thought to myself that that would have been the arrival of Thor. It was
a little mystery. Who were the other five?



I had a number of items of shopping to do and passed through Hassods to
order a full range of new kitchen items for Flavio. A lot of what he was
using dated back some thirty or so years from two generations back. Bob
told me later that he almost cried when five crates arrived with the
latest in kitchenware.

It was while I getting the kitchenware items for Flavio that I remembered
the single loop neck chainlets which each of the original six slaves had
worn when the al-Akhri brothers present them to me. They had been very
stylish and in the absence of cloths on the slave -- their only other
adornment being the titanium slave bracelet on their right ankle.

I therefore went over to Taspells, the jewellers, and bought forty loop
necklaces in gold -- just a simple unadorned chain that slipped through a
loop at one end, the second end being a tear shaped drop of the precious
metal. I told them to remember the type for future reference. One can
never be sure in Dahra when another slave will be acquired, or won or
presented or even reluctantly bought!

I also visited a specialist shop in Soho to purchase a number of items
for the retraining room to keep it in the latest lines of equipment and
gadgets which might retrain a slave quickly and efficiently.

London, however, itself was miserable in November and I longed for the
warmth of Dahra. I had been very good and for five days was abstemious of
all sex related matters.

But one final matter I would have to look for and that was something for
Gustav for his oblique recommendation of royal honour. I finally found
something which I thought he would like and old atlas of his country from
the very early eighteenth century, with each of the old royal and
baronial divisions, so finely done that they had actual separating blank
pages of some sort of vellum between each map.

Chapter 16 -- Teachers

I was happy to get back to Dahra. The sauna was finished and was now an
extension of the swimming pool area and capable of taking twenty five or
so perspiring bodies at a time.

Yuriy, the stables manager, told me proudly that the fields where now
producing so much that we were not only self-sufficient in all vegetables
but that from the following week next I need to think what to do with the
surplus.

The Palace actually used very little by way of vegetables, as only the
professional medical staff and I ate ordinary food.

So, here was Yuriy saying that we were now more than self-sufficient in
vegetables. I asked him what would he suggest and with a wicked grin, he
immediately produced a hard cardboard box of the type you would have
tomatoes in, but with Aloe Palace printed in green of a golden yellow
background. Just that -- Aloe Palace. Nothing more, as if to say, the
quality speaks for itself.

From that following week, a full Transit van of vegetables would be
collected stacked on their pallets six days a week and loaded up by
himself while the slaves would still be indoors at ablutions and
breakfast.

I had Aziz put up some forty pegs in the slave quarters as you might find
for hanging hats or coats. He looked at me when the request was made. I
merely smiled back at him.

After the evening gym and swim on the evening after my return, I had Aziz
ensure that all were at the pool and before my own slaves and the Swedes,
I called Aziz forward and put the gold necklace loop around his neck,
followed by Yuriy, who was bursting with pride and lastly Greg.

Yedo, Radek and Jess had also come forward each to look at `their'
assistant overseer's gold adornment. Radek had looked round in
apprehension when I called out his name and produced one for him.

There was absolute silence as each name was called out and each of my
slaves came forward to receive their gift from, but also their symbol of
ownership by me. When Raoul had received his, out of the corner of my
eye, I saw that Drink had his head on Food's shoulder crying, who in
turn had his arm around Drink's neck. Neither had ever received anything
of their own in twenty one years and it must have been a bit much for
them.

`Now, Aziz, you know what the pegs are for. When anyone is not working
or training, they can hang up their necklace in safety.'

Gustav's slaves used rotate themselves by fives back to his home on the
outskirts. That weekend, Thor, being the youngest and who normal stayed
at the Aloe Palace, returned to Gustav's home with the returning five
when new five arrived full of the joys of country life.

For me personally, perhaps, looking back on it now, those months were
perfect. Komil, who in his army days had taken many a new recruit to bed
and who had not been bottomed by anyone until by me, became the most
gifted of lovers both bottom and top. Strange that so many very large men
can move in balletic steps in and out of bed, but he had this gift of
using his body with grace and feeling.

The night when he received his necklace when I arrived at the bedroom
suite, instead of going to `display' as I arrived in, he came forward
in two steps, all six foot eight of him, and lifted me to shoulder height
and then on the bed. Never were cloths so quickly taken from my body, and
then he said, `Do you surrender yourself to me tonight?'

`Where did you learn a word like `surrender'?

`In English class,' he grinned and repeated, `Do you surrender?'

`Yes, I surrender'

With that, he took some flower that was among a display beside the bed,
and taking off some petals dropped them on my eyes. Then he was gone off
my body and off the bed. I felt a breeze on my toes and realised that it
was his breath on them. It was first of a series of touches which left me
for over an hour begging internally for release, but at the same time
hoping no release would come, as he found one erogenous zone after
another in my petalled blindness.

I felt my knees being bent as I lay on my back and a very wet finger
being inserted into my back passage. It was not wetness. It was
water-based lubricant. I knew the feel of it having used my share of a
supply of it on his anus over the past weeks.

Then there was a breeze on my eyelids and the petals were gone. Komil's
face was inches from mine where he had blown the petals away.

`Do you still surrender?' and he looked down at himself. His three-inch
diameter cock was at its full twelve-inch length. My eyes followed his.
While I have in my time been taken, I do not think I had anything quite
so large inside me.

`Do you still surrender?'

I said `I do' looking up into his eyes with their strange look of
longing, and to emphasise the point I put my hand up behind my head.

If the first hour had been heaven, the second hour was ecstasy as with
ingrained gentleness he took me to the edge of bliss and back so many
times that I lost count. While his penis was undoubtedly large and hard
and beautiful inside me, it was none of those things in the physical
sense, but rather an extension of his mind, a merely externalisation of
the passion and love he felt. And Komil clearly felt a lot.

Suddenly, his breathing became ragged and uncoordinated, he pulled out of
me just to the edge of his sizeably corona and flange, and pushed hard
into me, at the same time scooping me up into his arms so that I was
actually sitting impaled on his kneeling lap and extended manhood. His
giant hands pulled me done a single time on his erection and inside me
there was a spilling of warmth which went on and on in jerking spasm. I
covered his mouth with mine, and he groaned until his spasm was finished.
I had not ejaculated but such was the intensity of his cumming that mine
would have been a mere postscript, and such a statement of his love
required no such postscripts whatsoever.

I closed my eyes and upon opening them could not believe that it was
morning. I turned in the bed to find Komil already awake and looking at
me. As slaves are supposed to be milked by their buddies in the morning,
I said to him, `Hand or mouth?' as is the slave's choice.

`Mouth, Master,' and as I sucked him off, there was the slightest taste
still of the lubricant on his cock, and a taste of something else. Ah,
yes, my own juices which were never sweeter.

When three minutes later Komil returned the favour, I too said `Mouth.'

Some days later at the Bank, Gustav Ahlson, over our morning coffee,
which was when we seemed to have most time for each other, said `I have
a strange request and am not sure how to handle it.'

Trying to second-guess him, I said `You don't like the maps and want to
send them back.'

He laughed, `If it were only as simple as that! Thor spoke to me last
night and asked me to sell him.'

`Sell him? You can't do that! He is only a kid!'

`A kid with the body of a nineteen year old and the feelings of a twelve
year old. How anyone could let him go hitchhiking across Europe, even
with a girlfriend, is beyond me! I just don't know. He wants me to sell
him to you, Jonathan.'

Now it was my turn to be dumbstruck.

`Apparently something happened at the Aloe Palace. He won't way what.
He merely says that if I love him, I will sell him to you. What a
confused kid!'

`I think I know what happened' and I explained to him the bit about the
gold necklaces. `I think that if I own him and give him a necklace he
believes that I will somehow love him and that somehow he will belong
more than he does at the moment. Sorry, Gustav, this is one you are going
to have to work out on your own,' and I shook my head as I finished my
coffee.

I was no sooner back in my own office when my private line went. It was
the slave dealer in al-Qatim. When Ross had put in his request about the
Arabic and English teachers, I had contacted the slave dealers. His
database was extensive with all sorts of cross-references and he said
that he would come back to me with a selection. I told him to take his
time and that I was also considering contacting the auction rooms as
al-Mera. He replied that there would be no need for that that he would
look after it himself. He had also said, that if I put in a special
request, one could be `lifted' to order. I told him `absolutely no'
to that last suggestion.

That had been over a week ago. Now, he was back and had his selection
made, two of whom he had in person and four whom he knew where to locate.

I asked him what that meant and he said that among the current batches of
slaves there were only two that might meet my requirements, but he knew
where there were existing slaves in Dahra who also matched the
specification in four cases. He also suggested that if I were to pay a
reasonably small fee, the four, not already in the current batches, could
be brought for inspection to the al-Qatim auction rooms. I told him to do
that and he suggested a day and time two days hence.

The auction rooms were as I remembered them. Cool and elegant. This time
there was no noise, no hubbub of background conversation. I was the only
one, the only buyer so to speak. I was introduced to a second slave
dealer, whom I recognised as being from al-Mera. The two slaves in stock
were his, not those of the dealer of al-Qatim. These two dealers clearly
worked in synchronisation on certain deals.

Between the two of them they had files on the six slaves. They had not
sent around the usual dossier as they said the other four slaves were not
officially for auction. There were four slaves who were there as Arabic
teachers and two as teachers of English.

It was my first time actually seeing slaves who, to put it bluntly, were
not first class. One of the Arabs had had an arm broken at some point and
it had not set properly again. Another was missing part of a foot. While
all spoke Arabic as a native tongue, three of them had taught other
subjects but not Arabic itself.

The fourth was, allegedly thirty two years old, slightly darker in
colouring than the others and had taught Arabic and Chemistry in a
secondary school in Mogadishu, Somalia. We spoke for a while and though
his Arabic had a slight inflection, which the dealers assured me was the
Somali accent, it was fluent, perfectly clear, grammatically and
syntactically correct.

I inspected him as I had got to know how to do. His eyes were clear and
teeth in reasonable shape. Strange how teeth can be a barometer of the
body's overall health. His cut member was thick but not long, and felt
quite warm in the palm of my hand. Looking him in the eyes as I gently
squeezed it until he had an erection of around six-inches but very thick,
he only blinked twice. The purple glans of his cock curved slightly up
and to the right. His balls were very low hung due to some form of heavy
metal between his penis proper and his testicles, but both balanced well
when weighed. I told him to `bend and spread'. He was perfectly well
from the rear and my poking with a single finger showed tightness. Happy
with him, I did not even bother to inspect the others.

The English teachers again were little or no contest. The one nearest to
me was a thirty five year old New Zealander who had been working as a
roustabout on one of the oil rigs and had hurt a Dahran in a brawl.

His eyes were clear. His teeth were bad; in fact, I could smell his bad
breath, which was unusual in this climate if the slave was on biscuits.

He wasn't very big, but judging by the number of welts and ridges on his
back, he had been punished a number of times and severely. While a brawl
is not enough to merit slavery in Dahra, I looked in his dossier and
could only see that he was enslaved for `other crimes.' His background
was that he had studied English as a minor, with geology as his major,
but he had no teaching experience at all.

I asked him what `other crimes' meant on his file to warrant
enslavement. He swallowed and said `When they sentenced me to two months
in jail for a fight that the other guy caused, I shouted at the judges
that they could to fuck themselves and that when I got out I would fuck
their wives.'

That had been eight years previously.

`Nothing else?' I asked sarcastically.

`No, Master,' he replied respectfully.

`Turn round. Bend and spread.'

His hips and back had been more heavily beaten than I had first seen. His
back passage was a mass of haemorrhoids.

`What happened back there?'

`Broom handles, Master.'

The other slave was a thirty eight year old Scot, whose body hair was
carrot red. He was quite pale skinned and a mass of freckles all over his
body. He was according to his file an inveterate gambler and had been
lifted in Egypt for failing to pay debts he had left outstanding. But he
was also a graduate in English and a TEFLer, a Teacher of English as a
Foreign Language. Now that was more like it!

He did however at eleven and a half stone appear a bit on the thin side
for just over six feet.

Both his nipples had been pierced and were long and distended with a
metal chain held between two rings.

Maybe it was because of his thinness, but his uncut cock was magnificent
at 9 inches flaccid long. On taking it in the palm of my hand, he did not
budge, nor did he when I squeezed it softly and it firmed up to just over
10 inches.

`Bend and spread'

Without a word, he did. He even had freckles right into the crack of his
ass whose anus appeared almost childlike it was so small.

A smack on his buttocks was the sign to stand up.

`Has anyone ever been up you back there?'

`No, Master, only the vet's finger before the auction.' The voice was
surprisingly accent free. A slight Scottish burr.

`You don't have much of an accent for a Scot!' -- neither of the two
would have known my purpose in inspecting them and I would have bet that
the dealers had not bothered to tell them anything.

`No, Master, I was an English teacher and I always spoke without an
accent.'

`Well, almost without an accent.'

`Yes, Master.'

Looking at his file -- Andy McTee - I saw that he had been a slave for
four years and was now working in a leather factory on the outskirts of
al-Qatim itself.

The dealers were hovering around.

`The Somali? What would his owner be looking for him?'

Neither of the two of whom I was thinking were the property of the
dealers.

`And you can add another 10% to your commission as your search fee', I
said.

There was some inter-dealer murmuring and the al-Qatim dealer finally
said `twenty five thousand euro, Master, plus the 10%.'

I made as if to wash my hands of an Arabic teacher, and the dealer
dropped to `twenty three thousand euro, Master, would be the owner's
lowest price. Plus the 10% the Master has so generously offered.'

That meant that they would pay the owner a maximum of less than twenty
thousand.

`All right. Done!' and the Somali slave whose name was Hassan Dufhar
was mine.

`Now the pale one over there.'

Again the bargaining, and we settled on twenty four thousand, plus their
10% for Andy McTee.

We started to move off towards the offices, when the New Zealander spoke,
having obviously been following the conversation.

`Master?'

The al-Qatim dealer had murder in his eyes. I had never seen him so angry
-- possibly at the mere thought of a slave speaking first to a Master,
but more likely at the possibility of a double sale being ruined. I
motioned them to continue on and that I would join them.

`Master,' he said dropping to his knees, `Master, if you ever want the
most obedient slave you will ever get, the dealer' -- nodding towards
the al-Mera dealer - `knows where I work' and he looked towards the
ground as if he had said far far too much, which in fact he had. I would
not like to have been in his place once I left.

`For whom should I ask, if that were ever to happen. What's your
name?' In fact, I already knew it from the dossier, but for some reason,
I felt I needed to ask it.

`Stan Mercer, Master. But if I were yours you could call me anything you
liked.'

There was firmness in the voice, resignation indeed, but no self-pity.

Then he said, `You are the retrainer, Master, aren't you?'

`Where did you hear that?'

`I heard the dealers talking of how you have broken slaves who
disobey.'

`Have you now? Stand up, Stan, I'll remember the name if ever I need a
most obedient slave' -- his rather large nose ring hid the expression on
his face or at least distorted it.

He stood up and went to a not too effective `display.'

I paid over two Bank drafts of twenty five and the balance in cash.
Something was niggling at the back of my mind. When I look back at it
now, I can, hand on heart, say that it was Fate knocking at the door of
my mind.

`And what would be the price of the other English teacher?'

The al-Mera dealer was pleasantly surprised at the enquiry. When he
suggested twenty three thousand, I reminded them of the slave's back,
welts and the condition of his arse, and said that if they wanted to make
an offer to his Master of fifteen thousand, then I would consider buying
him.

`Plus the 10% commission, Master?'

`Done. You will accept a personal check on this last one. I have no more
Bank drafts?'

There were more smiles all round. I drew the line at paying for slaves by
credit card.

`Deliver the three of them this evening after six to the Aloe Palace.'

On arrival at the Aloe Palace, I informed Aziz of my purchases. He seemed
pleased on the surface hearing of the Arabic teacher. I also offered him
first refusal on Stan Mercer. He declined and I saw his eye wander to
Yedo who as usual was standing waiting for his most minimal order. No,
indeed, I thought to myself, why take milk, when you can cream, or
indeed, why spoil a good thing?

I then offered Stan tongue in cheek to Yuriy, who had come in late, to
help him run the production of the vegetables, which had to be ready
early morning. He was pleased as punch with having a new assistant.

I called in Greg, Ross and Bob and told them of the impending arrival of
Andy McTee and they too seemed delighted, not that they disliked teaching
English, but it really was not their cup of tea, though I personally
thought Ross was good at teaching.

The news of three new arrivals created a stir, and half a dozen slaves
found things to do in the courtyard until the Transit van arrived just
after six o'clock. I told Aziz to have them go off about their business
and the mere sight of Yedo bearing down on them was sufficient for all to
scatter.

While waiting for the arrival of the van, it occurred to me that I had
not actually seen up close the effects of the removal of the rings and
ornamentation on the previous four slaves the month previously. So I had
the four mining slaves, as I still thought of them in my mind called for
my personal inspection.

Pete, Randy, Raoul and Todd arrived somewhat apprehensively to the
retraining room. `A little fear is not a bad thing,' I thought, but
pretending not to notice their fear, I went out to meet them.

The four had had nipple rings taken out and their nipples were now
perfectly healed and sealed. Randy's scrotum, hanging down about
four-inches under the tip of his penis, showed no apparent signs of
ill-effect due to its previously being cinched, but they did look very
low-hanging , and Raoul's balls, according to himself were working fine.

As we were speaking the Transit van arrived with the new slaves, and I
told Randy to go and call Food and Drink, Mamoud and Mehmed.

The three slaves appeared disorientated on getting out of the van, their
wrists tied behind their heads to neck collars.

Yuriy got rid of the collars and the three stood massaging chaffed
muscles.

Greg came out of the slaves' quarters and caused a bit of a stir when he
produced a wire and bolt cutters.

I went up to Stan, the New Zealander, first, whose eyes were open wide
taking in his surrounding and the detail of the courtyard.

`Now stand very still, Stan, while these rings are taken off you.'

He did not move a muscle, even when the nose ring was cut off.

Beckoning Andy McTee over, he too never flinched when the nipple rings
and chain were removed though the weight of the two rings and chain
hanging on one nipple for some time must have been causing considerable
pain.

Hassan Dufhar scrotum stretcher caused more difficulty because of its
location and size, but Greg had it off in about five minutes at which
stage, Food and Drink and the two other Mehmed and Mamoud has arrived,
the former too prancing around as usual unable ever to keep still and the
latter giving their usual half-grins.

I said to the three slaves, `the slaves here will take you now and
shower you, wash you, shave you, cut your hair and otherwise make you
presentable. They will give you something to eat' -- I said to Food to
get 3 biscuits each for them - `and water to drink.'

`Tonight, they will share a bed with you as your bedmate and do anything
to your body that they want to do, this is, what you allow them to do.
Tomorrow night, you will do to their bodies anything that you want to do
and that they allow. They can be, I can assure you, quite skilled in
sex.'

The three looked at me in disbelief as they were led off to be showered.
Mamoud and Mehmed were grinning wildly. I indicated to Food and Drink to
go with Hassan, the Arabic teacher and they danced their usual little
dance of glee.

to be continued...