Date: Sat, 06 Dec 2003 18:42:12 +0000
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Special Memories - Chapter 9 - Gay - Authoritarian

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.

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

Contact points:

e: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com
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w: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories

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