Date: Wed, 06 Sep 2006 10:53:11 +0100
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Time Line - Chapter 21 - Gay - Authoritarian - Dahran series

The Time Line by Gerry Taylor

This is the twenty first chapter [ex twenty two] of a novel about gay sex
and present-day slavery.

Keywords: authority, control, gay, loyalty, slavery, punishment,
retraining, sex, submission

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

=============

The Prison Doctor and The Changed Life [the first novel of this series]
are now available as full novels in Adobe Acrobat format on
http://www.geocities.com/gerrytaylor_78/

===========

  Chapter 21--Empiricism



  I tried to pass by Richard's home as often as possible. Although he
had applied for a job in Dahra without me knowing of it, I felt deep down
that he was applying for the job so as to be near me. He was bright and
he could have worked anywhere. Yet he chose to work on my doorstep.

  The Wisteria Palace is much closer to the city than my own home so that
Craig, his driver, would drop him at the Central Bank and merely return
in the late afternoon to collect him. Richard intimated to me that, any
day I was at the Deckams--for I only do a three-day week, he could
collect me and we could chat on the way back to the Wisteria, and then my
own car could afterwards continue on with me to the Lemon Palace. As the
Lincoln, at least in the model that Richard had, does not have a dividing
glass from the slave driver, I always preferred to keep any conversation
neutral as to topics.

  While I am sure that Craig is discreet and I have never had any
suggestion or intimation that he was not, slaves love tidbits of
information and being on the inside track of things, and I was not about
to be the source of Wisteria Palace gossip for the benefit of any slave.
At least, such is my empirical observation, experience and resolve.

  What did cause me some amusement was Richard's description of the
initial interplay with Beno and Vedel, his two household slaves, who
insisted on shaving him and then showering with him each morning.

  `And at night?' I could not help enquiring.

  Richard looked at me and laughed.

  `Have you been talking with them?'

  `No, but I can guess what will have gone on.'

  `Dad, the first night they said it was their job to keep me warm and
their idea of warm is more than warm. They seemed so upset when I would
not let them in the bed and actually hugged each other for comfort as if
they had done something wrong. I finally relented and had one sleep on
each side of me. There was need of only the lightest sheet, I can tell
you.'

  `Is that all?'

  `Well, they wanted to do other things, well you know, but I said no.'

  `I can guess. They wanted to suck you off or have you fuck them
both.'

  `Again, Dad, how would you know that?'

  `That is what a bed companion slave is trained to do. To look after
the Master's every need. I hope, Richard, and please don't take offence
at this...I hope that you at least allowed them to suck you off each
morning. You are a healthy young man and you need your tensions
relieved.'

  Richard blushed bright red, and I knew his morning tensions were being
relieved much in the manner I had said.

  `Richard, that is their job. Let the slaves do their job. It keeps
them happy and it makes you, as Master, happy. What other changes have
you made?'

  `I have told all the slaves to put on shorts when they are inside the
Palace and at meal times, they are to wear a white t-shirt. I have
noticed that Jess, your slave driver, has a gold necklace and I asked him
about it. You apparently give one to every slave after thirty days in
your ownership, like those on Beno and Vedel.'

  `Yes, each slave would receive one, if he had behaved himself and if
his training had gone well.'

  `I'd like to do the same, Dad.'

  I smiled at him and again noticed that Richard was aping what I did.

  `Go to the House of Gems, and ask for a Mr. al-Said. He knows the type
I get. They'll cost you about a thousand euro a go.'

  `Dad, money is not the problem. I have so much money in my account I
will never be able to spend it. You have been very, very generous and
Josh Green has sent me another director's quarterly fee from the
Foundation and we have only met twice by videophone.'

  `A word to the wise. Use what you have to build up your home, your
household and your Palace grounds. Keep your slaves busy and if they
please you, by all means give them a gold necklace. It will bond them to
you more.'



  The evening of that conversation with Richard, I actually had the
owners of the two slaves centres to dinner at the Lemon Palace. It was
only the second such time that this has occurred over the years.

  It gave me the opportunity of telling both Mustafa ben-Mustafa and
Ahmed al-Atti of my immediate needs for the complement of a hundred and
twenty five slaves to bring up the staffing of the Stables of the three
Palaces and that of the al-Kadir property.

  We were dining alone in the main dining room of the Lemon Palace as I
had asked all the medical staff to eat at the Aloe Palace where Aziz
al-Aziz said he would act as host.

  Both my guests looked quite pleased at hearing of my intended
purchases.

  `May I ask you both to assemble a private viewing and all things being
equal, I shall buy at least sixty from each of your Houses. As I say, I
need one hundred and twenty five.'

  `One hundred and twenty four,' Ahmed al-Atti commented as he smiled
secretively into his fruit juice, sipping it and licking his lips at the
taste.

  I looked at Ahmed and his smile was that of the cat which had found the
cream.

  `Please, Ahmed, do not say that you have brought a slave with you. You
know that we have agreed no more slave gifts at these dinners. You know
that.'

  `Ah, Sir Jonathan, this slave is not a gift. You are going to buy him
from me. And not only, will you buy him from me, but I can name any price
I like and you would still buy him from me. But I would not do that to
you. I am going to sell him to you for exactly twenty six thousand four
hundred and sixteen euro.'

  Both Mustafa ben-Mustafa, my table companion, and I began to laugh at
the ludicrous situation that Ahmed was painting.

  `Ahmed, we did agree--did we not?--no more merchandise at these
dinners?' Mustafa commented, `Just as Sir Jonathan said.'

  `This, Mustafa, will be the exception that proves the rule. Will you
take a wager on what I am saying?'

  Now the Dahrans, no more and certainly no less than other Arabs, love
betting and challenging the odds, so every Dahran knows when it is wise
to wager and when it is not. Mustafa declined any wager.

  `Okay, Ahmed, where is this slave that I am going to buy for twenty
what thousand?'

  `He is sitting in the back seat of my Mercedes as we speak. I had him
covered with a blanket as we arrived so that no one would see him when
the car door was opened. The windows are blacked out so he will sit there
now until one of your slaves call him.'

  I beckoned Sevil, my sommelier, who was the nearest to me, to come
over.

  `Sevil, go and bring in to us the slave who is in the back of Mr.
al-Atti's car. It's the Mercedes.'

  As I waited, Ahmed toyed with me and more so with the morsel of food on
the end of his fork as if he were conducting an orchestra.

  Two minutes later Sevil returned with the mysterious slave and at the
moment of his entrance into the dining room, I knew that I would have
paid any amount for his purchase not just the mere twenty six thousand
something euro Ahmed was asking for him.

  The naked young man standing in the doorway, with Sevil at his side,
needed no introduction to me. I had never met him, but I was as sure as
sure could be who he was. His hands were over his privates, an untidy
flick of hair hanging over his right eye. His demeanour and his eyes, in
particular, said that he was frightened and afraid, nervous and
embarrassed all in one at his nakedness before strangers.

  `Untouched by human hand,' Ahmed commented. `He is as he arrived.
Not a single stroke of a camel-cane, Sir Jonathan, and only the GPS
bracelet fitted to his ankle.'

  I got up from the table and walked over to the new arrival, stood two
paces from him. He was looking at me intently.

  `Benji, welcome to my home. Welcome.'

  At the sound of his name, I thought that the young man, newly enslaved,
was going to burst out crying but he just shivered, but not from the
temperature of the day nor of the room. He shivered I suspected from the
unknown.

  I stepped closer to him and put my arms around his teenage shoulders
and said, `Benji, you have nothing to fear from me. Welcome to your new
home.'

  Turning to Bob Conrad who had arrived, I said, `Bring him upstairs,
stay with him. Have the two on duty shower him and have him brought up a
tray with something to eat. He is not to be let out of the suite until I
call you. Understood?'

  `Yes, Boss,' Bob replied, and I could see him looking at the new
slave and the wheels of his mind in motion as he led the teenage slave
upstairs.

  `Tell Ben to come in here and to bring a chequebook with him,' I said
to Sevil.

  I felt it was the purchase of the year in many ways that I was about to
make.

  I looked at a smiling Ahmed as I sat back down at the table.

  `I was not expecting that particular arrival for some time, Ahmed.
Well done!'

  `Does anyone want to tell me who he is?' Mustafa enquired.

  `The last of the Peoples brothers, Mustafa. I have the other five. Now
I must ask you a favour, Ahmed.'

  `Name it, Sir Jonathan.'

  As Ben, my secretary, came in at that precise moment. I took the
chequebook from him and wrote out a cheque for exactly twenty six
thousand four hundred and sixteen euro.

  `Why this price? Is that what you paid for him plus your commission?'

  `No, Sir Jonathan, I paid nineteen thousand for him. That price is the
average price of the five other purchases you made.'

  `Ah, I understand, a question of averages, Ahmed. As for the next
batches,' I said to both my guests as I handed Ahmed his cheque, `you
know the types I buy and I shall stick to these.'

  I handed back the chequebook to Ben and said to him, `Have the Peoples
brothers on the veranda in an hour's time.'

  `Yes, Master,' Ben said and departing closed the dining room door
behind him. I waited until he was out of the room.

  `Now, Ahmed, the favour I want is the following. Do you know of
markets for slaves in other countries? I mean, where slaves are used and
owned?'

  `Yes, indeed, Sir Jonathan. While I only deal in the Dahran market,
there are at least forty other countries where slaves are owned.'

  `Do you have contacts there?'

  `Not in all these countries. In some of them. I don't really
understand the question.'

  `If I asked you to have a slave lifted, could you have him sold in
another country, let us say a country not near Dahra.'

  `Yes, of course,' he replied and I noticed that Mustafa was also
nodding, `Burma, for example, uses a lot of slaves in its interior in
the wood industry. Somalia, Ethiopia, Sudan. There are a number of
countries.'

  `Well, Ahmed, I want the parents of the Peoples brothers lifted and
sold to Burma. Burma is far enough away.'

  Ahmed looked at Mustafa and then back at me.

  `The parents of the boy I brought you?'

  `Yes.'

  `No problem. I shall have it done.'

  `Let me know the cost.'

  `There will be no cost. The cost will be taken out of the sale price
and I shall let you have the balance. May I point out, Sir Jonathan, from
what I have heard, the wood industry in Burma has a very high turnover of
slaves. If the two Peoples parents to be lifted are middle aged and not
very fit, they will not last a year.'

  I shrugged my shoulders. `That is not my concern. They have outlived
their usefulness, and as for the proceeds of the sale, give it to some
charity here in Dahra where the money can do some good.'

  `Sir Jonathan, consider it done.'

  After these discussions, the remainder of the dinner was in slide mode
as one of my junior executives at the Bank says, the only significant
later comment by Mustafa being made against Ahmed for having combined
business with pleasure.

  `Ah, Mustafa, but what pleasure on Sir Jonathan's face. What
pleasure!'

  As I had suspected the dinner concluded almost an hour later. Dahrans
do not dine late and rise early before the heat of the day sets in.

  As I saw both my guests to their cars, I saw the five Peoples brothers
standing `at rest' at the end of the veranda.

  Adieus completed, I indicated, with a wave of my fingers, to the five
to come into the Palace after me. The five looked quite worried and I
immediate divined the reason. They had seen the two slave dealers depart
and must have been wondering about their own futures. Despite never
selling my slaves, it is a constant worry with slaves that I one day
will.

  The study is really too small for many to gather, so I walked down to
the salon and had the five slaves follow me, and on the way had a quiet
word with Sevil, who was still hovering around and who departed with my
order.

  `At rest', I ordered as the last of the five entered the salon. `In
a line facing me,' and I stood facing the double doors, which meant that
their backs were to the doors.

  `Do I have any reason to worry about your work? Eh, Matt?' I said to
the eldest brother, who hissed back an unvoiced `no, Master.'

  `Or from the production factory, Elliott?'

  `No, Master. We are producing more than ever. I hope you are
pleased.'

  `So, what should I be worried about?'

  There was silence and I put my finger to my lips, as I saw the double
doors being opened and Bob Conrad coming in with a groomed Benji Peoples.

  `My only worry is whether you would recognise Benji if he were here
right now. Turn round now.'

  As the five turned, there was a split second of silence and then a roar
as five figures lunged at a very modest slave trying to cover his
privates beside Bob who was grinning from ear to ear, clearly having
extracted some advance details from Benji as to who he actually was.

  For a moment, it looked as if Benji was about to turn and run under the
onslaught of five naked men rushing towards him, but he stopped in
mid-turn and opened his mouth just as Terry was upon him, followed by
Luke, Matt, Jake and Elliot.

  As the commotion of reunion raged, I said to Bob, `bring me a large
glass of port and let the Peoples assemble'.

  `Yes, Boss. Yes, sir.'

  And I walked out of the salon as the brothers tumbled over each other
and the shouts became yells and whoops and cheers.

  I stood on the veranda sipping the port Bob had brought me. It had been
a good day. I had acquired a new slave. A family, albeit now as slaves,
had been fully reunited.

  I felt more than heard a presence behind me and turning I saw the
figure of Matt Peoples. He stood facing me for a second and then went on
his knees before and his forehead bent forward and touched my lower
stomach.

  He was crying as he gently lowered the zip of my trousers and taking
out my cock, he brought it to his lips and kissed it tenderly. Then he
put it back inside my clothes and zipped me up again. There were many
Peoples brothers, but Matt was the only one to come out to give me the
ultimate Dahran acknowledgment of slave ownership and signal of respect
to a Master.

  I brought Matt to his feet and offered him the glass in my hand. He
looked at the port and bringing the glass to his lips took no more than a
sip, before returning it to me.

  `Matt, will you be mine?' I whispered to him.

  `Master, I am your slave. You know that,' he said in the unvoiced
mode of speech he has because of his cauterised vocal chords.

  `Matt, will you be mine. Not as my slave, but as my long-term
companion? Will you share your life with me?'

  Matt Peoples looked at me, and bringing his two hands to either side of
my face, he kissed me as one would kiss a child, a bare frottage of lips.

  `I will,' he whispered.

  `Will you love me as I love you for all the days of your life?'

  `I will,' he whispered again.

  `Until death do us both part?'

  `I will.'

  The night was silent. Crickets chirped in palm trees down at the
al-Kadir property. But as I stood on the veranda that night with Matt
Peoples, I knew that I had bonded with that beautiful and strong slave,
who had suffered so much, yet who had never lost hope that great
foundation stone of all life even in the deepest dungeons of despair. I
closed my eyes and kissed again and again, the lover who would now share
his life with me as long-term companion.



  It has always struck me as one of the most sensitive areas with
men--that of their fertility. Every man has to be externally macho or at
least appear to be so, suggesting with bravado that he has enough sperm
to repopulate the planet. Men, however, do not ask about such microscopic
matters and leave it in the hands of Mother Nature for things to be
worked out.

  It therefore struck me as a little odd when upon going upstairs to our
restaurant at the Bank that Georgie Deckam quite literally jumped into
the lift with me as the doors were about the close.

  He looked flushed as if he had been running, which I suppose he had in
the last few meters to get into the lift with me.

  `I thought it was you, Sir Jonathan,' was his comment upon coming to
an about-face.

  `Will you join me for coffee, Georgie?'

  `Yes, indeed, sir.'

  `How is your wife coming along, Georgie? The news of her pregnancy was
simply great.'

  `Yes, sir. I got an email from Emily Ryan this morning. The doctors
did a scan to be sure the baby was fine and he is. It's a boy.'

  I thought to myself that Charlie Deckam would be over the moon at the
news, and the name of the house of Deckham would pass on to another
generation.

  `Are you coming to London for the board meeting?'

  The lift had stopped and we got out on the restaurant floor.

  `Do you mean to see my wife as well?'

  `That might not be entirely inappropriate, Georgie. You are the
husband and father of the child after all.'

  I could see Georgie's mind working. Women do not play a part in his
life. No way. Quite definitely not. The question of seeing his wife of
convenience was clearly something that he wished to avoid.

  `Georgie,' I continued, `do what you have to do. But don't be
unkind. The lady is guaranteeing the continuation of your family name for
another generation. You giving her money and a house is not everything.'

  `A short visit, perhaps?'

  `Yes, a short visit, but not too short.'

  `Agreed, sir.'

  `Splendid idea. We don't want him skipping the agenda to go and see
his daughter-in-law, do we?' I said with a laugh as we went in to have
our morning coffee.



  And laughter indeed there was after the board meeting the following
week in London. Charlie Deckham was beside himself with joy and announced
to the entire board and senior executives at the board lunch that he was
to be a grandfather.

  I don't know why but my eyes were on John Tunner, the personnel
partner, or human resources partner as they now say. His face was
smiling. His eyes were not. His hand among others was extended in
congratulations to the embarrassed future father. His body language spoke
another dialect. I could not figure it out for a while, and then I read
jealousy. Little did John Tunner know that he had nothing to be jealous
about as to the affections of a nice young lady for his erstwhile bed
companion.

  The second thought which occurred to me was that the unborn child would
most likely be born in late January, early February. He would be born
under the sign of Aquarius, the bringer of balance, peace and harmony. I
wished that for my good friend and chairman, Charlie Deckham.



  After the board lunch, I went to see Ryan Smith and we went for a
stroll in Hyde Park. He was bubbling over with happiness at the way the
new firm was going.

  `Jonathan, you were right, so right, about the cash flow and new
clients coming in.'

  He went on in this vein for about ten minutes and I really did not have
the heart to stop him. We halted to look at a nice young man on a polo
pony.

  `Fancy him, Ryan?'

  `No, Jonathan. Too thin, too young, too not you. You know I like
someone to take control of me from time to him. That young man I could
put over my knee. No, thank you.'

  I knew that he would want to come back to the hotel with me.

  `Ryan, would you be offended if from now on we just enjoyed each
other's company. No sex. Having met your wife, I don't want to hurt her
or you, for that matter, along the way. It's one thing to have a
marvellous affair with a guy and not know his wife, even though you know
he is married. For me, it is different when you also know the lady.'

  `You're annoyed, Jonathan, that I brought Emily to meet you.'

  `No, Ryan, quite the contrary. I am delighted to have met your Emily.
It just puts our relationship on another footing. Friendship and business
and the good memories which go with both.'

  Ryan turned to look again at the young man on the polo pony.

  `Maybe he has a father or an uncle,' he commented and we both
laughed.

  `How is Chris, the young lad?'

  `Bold as brass, hale and hearty for the moment. His next heart
operation will again be a valve operation and is not due for two years. I
cannot ever thank you enough, Jonathan, for your help on that score.'

  `Just tell him in the fullness of time, Ryan, that when he was sick
there was nothing that you would not have done for him and that there was
nothing that you did not do for him. He'll never really know just how
far you went in your love for him. Will he?'

  That walk cemented for me a good business relationship and resolved a
few potential problems.



  It was on this trip to London that I met up with Josh Green who was in
town for some investment meeting or other. He gave me a four-page report
which I liked immensely for its brevity. It showed the healthiest of bank
balances for the Buddy Foundation and my own accounts in a portfolio of
bonds and investments whose dividends alone could not be spent in a
lifetime.

  `Jonathan, I'm thinking of taking early retirement. I've just
celebrated my fifty fifth birthday.'

  I looked at him without a grey hair on his head. He looked in his
mid-forties.

  `Josh, you will be bored. A mind like yours needs things to do. Why
the thought just now?'

  `A cousin of mine just died in Florida. He was forty five. Granted he
was overweight. But it made me realise that I know very little of the
world outside of the US and the UK and the Caribbean area. I think I
would like to travel.'

  `Josh, travel away. Cut back on your commitments but keep handling my
portfolio and that of the Buddy Foundation.'

  `Jonathan, I only handle seven clients. You are the second largest.
The largest is a corporation which banks in the Grand Cayman. They would
not miss me. The smaller guys I can drop as well though some of them have
been with me for almost twenty years.'

  `Josh, stay with me. Drop the others. Let me pay you an exclusivity
fee of say ten million dollars and one per cent of the yearly increase in
the portfolio.'

  We were walking on the Thames Embankment and he pointed across to the
London Eye.

  `Nice Ferris wheel. Ten million and two per cent and we have a deal.'

  `Agreed, on one condition.'

  `What?'

  `The first stop on your first holiday retirement travel will be today
on that,' and I pointed at the London Eye.

  We shook hands on the deal.

  There was a confirming email from Josh Green waiting for me back at the
bank in Dahra when I got there of the deal struck as we had walked along
the Embankment, with a jpeg of a used ticket for the London eye. I have
always found Josh Green to be a very careful guy in the details of any
dealings I have ever had with him, and I consider some of the best money
I had ever, ever spent those ten million dollars I paid him.

End of Chapter 21

===========

Contact:

e: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com

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w: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/erotic_gay_stories

If not on the YahooGroups mailing list, simply send a blank email to

Erotic_gay_stories-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

The Dahran series -- a fictional adventure story about the life and times
of Sir Jonathan Martin -- comprises the following novels to date:

1. The Changed Life

2. The Reluctant Retrainer

3. The Market Offer

4. The Special Memories

5. The Dahran Way

6. The Dahran Rebuttals

7. The Seventh Desert

8. The Dahran Sands

9. The Time Line

These novels are all serialised on Nifty (Gay -- Authoritarian) and on
YahooGroups http://groups.yahoo.com/group/erotic_gay_stories

The Time Line by Gerry Taylor

This is the twenty first chapter [ex twenty two] of a novel about gay sex
and present-day slavery.

Keywords: authority, control, gay, loyalty, slavery, punishment,
retraining, sex, submission

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

=============

The Prison Doctor and The Changed Life [the first novel of this series]
are now available as full novels in Adobe Acrobat format on
http://www.geocities.com/gerrytaylor_78/

===========

  Chapter 21--Empiricism



  I tried to pass by Richard's home as often as possible. Although he
had applied for a job in Dahra without me knowing of it, I felt deep down
that he was applying for the job so as to be near me. He was bright and
he could have worked anywhere. Yet he chose to work on my doorstep.

  The Wisteria Palace is much closer to the city than my own home so that
Craig, his driver, would drop him at the Central Bank and merely return
in the late afternoon to collect him. Richard intimated to me that, any
day I was at the Deckams--for I only do a three-day week, he could
collect me and we could chat on the way back to the Wisteria, and then my
own car could afterwards continue on with me to the Lemon Palace. As the
Lincoln, at least in the model that Richard had, does not have a dividing
glass from the slave driver, I always preferred to keep any conversation
neutral as to topics.

  While I am sure that Craig is discreet and I have never had any
suggestion or intimation that he was not, slaves love tidbits of
information and being on the inside track of things, and I was not about
to be the source of Wisteria Palace gossip for the benefit of any slave.
At least, such is my empirical observation, experience and resolve.

  What did cause me some amusement was Richard's description of the
initial interplay with Beno and Vedel, his two household slaves, who
insisted on shaving him and then showering with him each morning.

  `And at night?' I could not help enquiring.

  Richard looked at me and laughed.

  `Have you been talking with them?'

  `No, but I can guess what will have gone on.'

  `Dad, the first night they said it was their job to keep me warm and
their idea of warm is more than warm. They seemed so upset when I would
not let them in the bed and actually hugged each other for comfort as if
they had done something wrong. I finally relented and had one sleep on
each side of me. There was need of only the lightest sheet, I can tell
you.'

  `Is that all?'

  `Well, they wanted to do other things, well you know, but I said no.'

  `I can guess. They wanted to suck you off or have you fuck them
both.'

  `Again, Dad, how would you know that?'

  `That is what a bed companion slave is trained to do. To look after
the Master's every need. I hope, Richard, and please don't take offence
at this...I hope that you at least allowed them to suck you off each
morning. You are a healthy young man and you need your tensions
relieved.'

  Richard blushed bright red, and I knew his morning tensions were being
relieved much in the manner I had said.

  `Richard, that is their job. Let the slaves do their job. It keeps
them happy and it makes you, as Master, happy. What other changes have
you made?'

  `I have told all the slaves to put on shorts when they are inside the
Palace and at meal times, they are to wear a white t-shirt. I have
noticed that Jess, your slave driver, has a gold necklace and I asked him
about it. You apparently give one to every slave after thirty days in
your ownership, like those on Beno and Vedel.'

  `Yes, each slave would receive one, if he had behaved himself and if
his training had gone well.'

  `I'd like to do the same, Dad.'

  I smiled at him and again noticed that Richard was aping what I did.

  `Go to the House of Gems, and ask for a Mr. al-Said. He knows the type
I get. They'll cost you about a thousand euro a go.'

  `Dad, money is not the problem. I have so much money in my account I
will never be able to spend it. You have been very, very generous and
Josh Green has sent me another director's quarterly fee from the
Foundation and we have only met twice by videophone.'

  `A word to the wise. Use what you have to build up your home, your
household and your Palace grounds. Keep your slaves busy and if they
please you, by all means give them a gold necklace. It will bond them to
you more.'



  The evening of that conversation with Richard, I actually had the
owners of the two slaves centres to dinner at the Lemon Palace. It was
only the second such time that this has occurred over the years.

  It gave me the opportunity of telling both Mustafa ben-Mustafa and
Ahmed al-Atti of my immediate needs for the complement of a hundred and
twenty five slaves to bring up the staffing of the Stables of the three
Palaces and that of the al-Kadir property.

  We were dining alone in the main dining room of the Lemon Palace as I
had asked all the medical staff to eat at the Aloe Palace where Aziz
al-Aziz said he would act as host.

  Both my guests looked quite pleased at hearing of my intended
purchases.

  `May I ask you both to assemble a private viewing and all things being
equal, I shall buy at least sixty from each of your Houses. As I say, I
need one hundred and twenty five.'

  `One hundred and twenty four,' Ahmed al-Atti commented as he smiled
secretively into his fruit juice, sipping it and licking his lips at the
taste.

  I looked at Ahmed and his smile was that of the cat which had found the
cream.

  `Please, Ahmed, do not say that you have brought a slave with you. You
know that we have agreed no more slave gifts at these dinners. You know
that.'

  `Ah, Sir Jonathan, this slave is not a gift. You are going to buy him
from me. And not only, will you buy him from me, but I can name any price
I like and you would still buy him from me. But I would not do that to
you. I am going to sell him to you for exactly twenty six thousand four
hundred and sixteen euro.'

  Both Mustafa ben-Mustafa, my table companion, and I began to laugh at
the ludicrous situation that Ahmed was painting.

  `Ahmed, we did agree--did we not?--no more merchandise at these
dinners?' Mustafa commented, `Just as Sir Jonathan said.'

  `This, Mustafa, will be the exception that proves the rule. Will you
take a wager on what I am saying?'

  Now the Dahrans, no more and certainly no less than other Arabs, love
betting and challenging the odds, so every Dahran knows when it is wise
to wager and when it is not. Mustafa declined any wager.

  `Okay, Ahmed, where is this slave that I am going to buy for twenty
what thousand?'

  `He is sitting in the back seat of my Mercedes as we speak. I had him
covered with a blanket as we arrived so that no one would see him when
the car door was opened. The windows are blacked out so he will sit there
now until one of your slaves call him.'

  I beckoned Sevil, my sommelier, who was the nearest to me, to come
over.

  `Sevil, go and bring in to us the slave who is in the back of Mr.
al-Atti's car. It's the Mercedes.'

  As I waited, Ahmed toyed with me and more so with the morsel of food on
the end of his fork as if he were conducting an orchestra.

  Two minutes later Sevil returned with the mysterious slave and at the
moment of his entrance into the dining room, I knew that I would have
paid any amount for his purchase not just the mere twenty six thousand
something euro Ahmed was asking for him.

  The naked young man standing in the doorway, with Sevil at his side,
needed no introduction to me. I had never met him, but I was as sure as
sure could be who he was. His hands were over his privates, an untidy
flick of hair hanging over his right eye. His demeanour and his eyes, in
particular, said that he was frightened and afraid, nervous and
embarrassed all in one at his nakedness before strangers.

  `Untouched by human hand,' Ahmed commented. `He is as he arrived.
Not a single stroke of a camel-cane, Sir Jonathan, and only the GPS
bracelet fitted to his ankle.'

  I got up from the table and walked over to the new arrival, stood two
paces from him. He was looking at me intently.

  `Benji, welcome to my home. Welcome.'

  At the sound of his name, I thought that the young man, newly enslaved,
was going to burst out crying but he just shivered, but not from the
temperature of the day nor of the room. He shivered I suspected from the
unknown.

  I stepped closer to him and put my arms around his teenage shoulders
and said, `Benji, you have nothing to fear from me. Welcome to your new
home.'

  Turning to Bob Conrad who had arrived, I said, `Bring him upstairs,
stay with him. Have the two on duty shower him and have him brought up a
tray with something to eat. He is not to be let out of the suite until I
call you. Understood?'

  `Yes, Boss,' Bob replied, and I could see him looking at the new
slave and the wheels of his mind in motion as he led the teenage slave
upstairs.

  `Tell Ben to come in here and to bring a chequebook with him,' I said
to Sevil.

  I felt it was the purchase of the year in many ways that I was about to
make.

  I looked at a smiling Ahmed as I sat back down at the table.

  `I was not expecting that particular arrival for some time, Ahmed.
Well done!'

  `Does anyone want to tell me who he is?' Mustafa enquired.

  `The last of the Peoples brothers, Mustafa. I have the other five. Now
I must ask you a favour, Ahmed.'

  `Name it, Sir Jonathan.'

  As Ben, my secretary, came in at that precise moment. I took the
chequebook from him and wrote out a cheque for exactly twenty six
thousand four hundred and sixteen euro.

  `Why this price? Is that what you paid for him plus your commission?'

  `No, Sir Jonathan, I paid nineteen thousand for him. That price is the
average price of the five other purchases you made.'

  `Ah, I understand, a question of averages, Ahmed. As for the next
batches,' I said to both my guests as I handed Ahmed his cheque, `you
know the types I buy and I shall stick to these.'

  I handed back the chequebook to Ben and said to him, `Have the Peoples
brothers on the veranda in an hour's time.'

  `Yes, Master,' Ben said and departing closed the dining room door
behind him. I waited until he was out of the room.

  `Now, Ahmed, the favour I want is the following. Do you know of
markets for slaves in other countries? I mean, where slaves are used and
owned?'

  `Yes, indeed, Sir Jonathan. While I only deal in the Dahran market,
there are at least forty other countries where slaves are owned.'

  `Do you have contacts there?'

  `Not in all these countries. In some of them. I don't really
understand the question.'

  `If I asked you to have a slave lifted, could you have him sold in
another country, let us say a country not near Dahra.'

  `Yes, of course,' he replied and I noticed that Mustafa was also
nodding, `Burma, for example, uses a lot of slaves in its interior in
the wood industry. Somalia, Ethiopia, Sudan. There are a number of
countries.'

  `Well, Ahmed, I want the parents of the Peoples brothers lifted and
sold to Burma. Burma is far enough away.'

  Ahmed looked at Mustafa and then back at me.

  `The parents of the boy I brought you?'

  `Yes.'

  `No problem. I shall have it done.'

  `Let me know the cost.'

  `There will be no cost. The cost will be taken out of the sale price
and I shall let you have the balance. May I point out, Sir Jonathan, from
what I have heard, the wood industry in Burma has a very high turnover of
slaves. If the two Peoples parents to be lifted are middle aged and not
very fit, they will not last a year.'

  I shrugged my shoulders. `That is not my concern. They have outlived
their usefulness, and as for the proceeds of the sale, give it to some
charity here in Dahra where the money can do some good.'

  `Sir Jonathan, consider it done.'

  After these discussions, the remainder of the dinner was in slide mode
as one of my junior executives at the Bank says, the only significant
later comment by Mustafa being made against Ahmed for having combined
business with pleasure.

  `Ah, Mustafa, but what pleasure on Sir Jonathan's face. What
pleasure!'

  As I had suspected the dinner concluded almost an hour later. Dahrans
do not dine late and rise early before the heat of the day sets in.

  As I saw both my guests to their cars, I saw the five Peoples brothers
standing `at rest' at the end of the veranda.

  Adieus completed, I indicated, with a wave of my fingers, to the five
to come into the Palace after me. The five looked quite worried and I
immediate divined the reason. They had seen the two slave dealers depart
and must have been wondering about their own futures. Despite never
selling my slaves, it is a constant worry with slaves that I one day
will.

  The study is really too small for many to gather, so I walked down to
the salon and had the five slaves follow me, and on the way had a quiet
word with Sevil, who was still hovering around and who departed with my
order.

  `At rest', I ordered as the last of the five entered the salon. `In
a line facing me,' and I stood facing the double doors, which meant that
their backs were to the doors.

  `Do I have any reason to worry about your work? Eh, Matt?' I said to
the eldest brother, who hissed back an unvoiced `no, Master.'

  `Or from the production factory, Elliott?'

  `No, Master. We are producing more than ever. I hope you are
pleased.'

  `So, what should I be worried about?'

  There was silence and I put my finger to my lips, as I saw the double
doors being opened and Bob Conrad coming in with a groomed Benji Peoples.

  `My only worry is whether you would recognise Benji if he were here
right now. Turn round now.'

  As the five turned, there was a split second of silence and then a roar
as five figures lunged at a very modest slave trying to cover his
privates beside Bob who was grinning from ear to ear, clearly having
extracted some advance details from Benji as to who he actually was.

  For a moment, it looked as if Benji was about to turn and run under the
onslaught of five naked men rushing towards him, but he stopped in
mid-turn and opened his mouth just as Terry was upon him, followed by
Luke, Matt, Jake and Elliot.

  As the commotion of reunion raged, I said to Bob, `bring me a large
glass of port and let the Peoples assemble'.

  `Yes, Boss. Yes, sir.'

  And I walked out of the salon as the brothers tumbled over each other
and the shouts became yells and whoops and cheers.

  I stood on the veranda sipping the port Bob had brought me. It had been
a good day. I had acquired a new slave. A family, albeit now as slaves,
had been fully reunited.

  I felt more than heard a presence behind me and turning I saw the
figure of Matt Peoples. He stood facing me for a second and then went on
his knees before and his forehead bent forward and touched my lower
stomach.

  He was crying as he gently lowered the zip of my trousers and taking
out my cock, he brought it to his lips and kissed it tenderly. Then he
put it back inside my clothes and zipped me up again. There were many
Peoples brothers, but Matt was the only one to come out to give me the
ultimate Dahran acknowledgment of slave ownership and signal of respect
to a Master.

  I brought Matt to his feet and offered him the glass in my hand. He
looked at the port and bringing the glass to his lips took no more than a
sip, before returning it to me.

  `Matt, will you be mine?' I whispered to him.

  `Master, I am your slave. You know that,' he said in the unvoiced
mode of speech he has because of his cauterised vocal chords.

  `Matt, will you be mine. Not as my slave, but as my long-term
companion? Will you share your life with me?'

  Matt Peoples looked at me, and bringing his two hands to either side of
my face, he kissed me as one would kiss a child, a bare frottage of lips.

  `I will,' he whispered.

  `Will you love me as I love you for all the days of your life?'

  `I will,' he whispered again.

  `Until death do us both part?'

  `I will.'

  The night was silent. Crickets chirped in palm trees down at the
al-Kadir property. But as I stood on the veranda that night with Matt
Peoples, I knew that I had bonded with that beautiful and strong slave,
who had suffered so much, yet who had never lost hope that great
foundation stone of all life even in the deepest dungeons of despair. I
closed my eyes and kissed again and again, the lover who would now share
his life with me as long-term companion.



  It has always struck me as one of the most sensitive areas with
men--that of their fertility. Every man has to be externally macho or at
least appear to be so, suggesting with bravado that he has enough sperm
to repopulate the planet. Men, however, do not ask about such microscopic
matters and leave it in the hands of Mother Nature for things to be
worked out.

  It therefore struck me as a little odd when upon going upstairs to our
restaurant at the Bank that Georgie Deckam quite literally jumped into
the lift with me as the doors were about the close.

  He looked flushed as if he had been running, which I suppose he had in
the last few meters to get into the lift with me.

  `I thought it was you, Sir Jonathan,' was his comment upon coming to
an about-face.

  `Will you join me for coffee, Georgie?'

  `Yes, indeed, sir.'

  `How is your wife coming along, Georgie? The news of her pregnancy was
simply great.'

  `Yes, sir. I got an email from Emily Ryan this morning. The doctors
did a scan to be sure the baby was fine and he is. It's a boy.'

  I thought to myself that Charlie Deckam would be over the moon at the
news, and the name of the house of Deckham would pass on to another
generation.

  `Are you coming to London for the board meeting?'

  The lift had stopped and we got out on the restaurant floor.

  `Do you mean to see my wife as well?'

  `That might not be entirely inappropriate, Georgie. You are the
husband and father of the child after all.'

  I could see Georgie's mind working. Women do not play a part in his
life. No way. Quite definitely not. The question of seeing his wife of
convenience was clearly something that he wished to avoid.

  `Georgie,' I continued, `do what you have to do. But don't be
unkind. The lady is guaranteeing the continuation of your family name for
another generation. You giving her money and a house is not everything.'

  `A short visit, perhaps?'

  `Yes, a short visit, but not too short.'

  `Agreed, sir.'

  `Splendid idea. We don't want him skipping the agenda to go and see
his daughter-in-law, do we?' I said with a laugh as we went in to have
our morning coffee.



  And laughter indeed there was after the board meeting the following
week in London. Charlie Deckham was beside himself with joy and announced
to the entire board and senior executives at the board lunch that he was
to be a grandfather.

  I don't know why but my eyes were on John Tunner, the personnel
partner, or human resources partner as they now say. His face was
smiling. His eyes were not. His hand among others was extended in
congratulations to the embarrassed future father. His body language spoke
another dialect. I could not figure it out for a while, and then I read
jealousy. Little did John Tunner know that he had nothing to be jealous
about as to the affections of a nice young lady for his erstwhile bed
companion.

  The second thought which occurred to me was that the unborn child would
most likely be born in late January, early February. He would be born
under the sign of Aquarius, the bringer of balance, peace and harmony. I
wished that for my good friend and chairman, Charlie Deckham.



  After the board lunch, I went to see Ryan Smith and we went for a
stroll in Hyde Park. He was bubbling over with happiness at the way the
new firm was going.

  `Jonathan, you were right, so right, about the cash flow and new
clients coming in.'

  He went on in this vein for about ten minutes and I really did not have
the heart to stop him. We halted to look at a nice young man on a polo
pony.

  `Fancy him, Ryan?'

  `No, Jonathan. Too thin, too young, too not you. You know I like
someone to take control of me from time to him. That young man I could
put over my knee. No, thank you.'

  I knew that he would want to come back to the hotel with me.

  `Ryan, would you be offended if from now on we just enjoyed each
other's company. No sex. Having met your wife, I don't want to hurt her
or you, for that matter, along the way. It's one thing to have a
marvellous affair with a guy and not know his wife, even though you know
he is married. For me, it is different when you also know the lady.'

  `You're annoyed, Jonathan, that I brought Emily to meet you.'

  `No, Ryan, quite the contrary. I am delighted to have met your Emily.
It just puts our relationship on another footing. Friendship and business
and the good memories which go with both.'

  Ryan turned to look again at the young man on the polo pony.

  `Maybe he has a father or an uncle,' he commented and we both
laughed.

  `How is Chris, the young lad?'

  `Bold as brass, hale and hearty for the moment. His next heart
operation will again be a valve operation and is not due for two years. I
cannot ever thank you enough, Jonathan, for your help on that score.'

  `Just tell him in the fullness of time, Ryan, that when he was sick
there was nothing that you would not have done for him and that there was
nothing that you did not do for him. He'll never really know just how
far you went in your love for him. Will he?'

  That walk cemented for me a good business relationship and resolved a
few potential problems.



  It was on this trip to London that I met up with Josh Green who was in
town for some investment meeting or other. He gave me a four-page report
which I liked immensely for its brevity. It showed the healthiest of bank
balances for the Buddy Foundation and my own accounts in a portfolio of
bonds and investments whose dividends alone could not be spent in a
lifetime.

  `Jonathan, I'm thinking of taking early retirement. I've just
celebrated my fifty fifth birthday.'

  I looked at him without a grey hair on his head. He looked in his
mid-forties.

  `Josh, you will be bored. A mind like yours needs things to do. Why
the thought just now?'

  `A cousin of mine just died in Florida. He was forty five. Granted he
was overweight. But it made me realise that I know very little of the
world outside of the US and the UK and the Caribbean area. I think I
would like to travel.'

  `Josh, travel away. Cut back on your commitments but keep handling my
portfolio and that of the Buddy Foundation.'

  `Jonathan, I only handle seven clients. You are the second largest.
The largest is a corporation which banks in the Grand Cayman. They would
not miss me. The smaller guys I can drop as well though some of them have
been with me for almost twenty years.'

  `Josh, stay with me. Drop the others. Let me pay you an exclusivity
fee of say ten million dollars and one per cent of the yearly increase in
the portfolio.'

  We were walking on the Thames Embankment and he pointed across to the
London Eye.

  `Nice Ferris wheel. Ten million and two per cent and we have a deal.'

  `Agreed, on one condition.'

  `What?'

  `The first stop on your first holiday retirement travel will be today
on that,' and I pointed at the London Eye.

  We shook hands on the deal.

  There was a confirming email from Josh Green waiting for me back at the
bank in Dahra when I got there of the deal struck as we had walked along
the Embankment, with a jpeg of a used ticket for the London eye. I have
always found Josh Green to be a very careful guy in the details of any
dealings I have ever had with him, and I consider some of the best money
I had ever, ever spent those ten million dollars I paid him.

End of Chapter 21

===========

Contact:

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The Dahran series -- a fictional adventure story about the life and times
of Sir Jonathan Martin -- comprises the following novels to date:

1. The Changed Life

2. The Reluctant Retrainer

3. The Market Offer

4. The Special Memories

5. The Dahran Way

6. The Dahran Rebuttals

7. The Seventh Desert

8. The Dahran Sands

9. The Time Line

These novels are all serialised on Nifty (Gay -- Authoritarian) and on
YahooGroups http://groups.yahoo.com/group/erotic_gay_stories