Date: Thu, 20 Mar 2008 00:03:21 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Instrument, Part 15

THE INSTRUMENT

By Pete Brown   petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part  Fifteen


Jamie still stood there doing nothing - whether he
simply couldn't take in what had happened to him and
just didn't believe me, or whether he was being
defiant, I couldn't tell.  But I saw an angry look
start to come to the Sheikh's face, so I grabbed
Jamie's arm, squeezing his biceps quite painfully,
bent my head to his ear and hissed "Listen to me:  do
a I tell you, and get naked, get naked NOW!  Or do you
remember that time when you were ten when you were
deliberately defiant, even when you'd been warned and
warned.... And finally I had to put you over my knee
and spank the resistance out of you?  You're not so
old that I can't do that again, you know... Just do as
I fucking well say, and obey me, for Christ sake....
You don't understand, you don't know the danger.... So
just do as you're fucking well told!"

I don't know whether it was the urgency in my voice or
the threat of the spanking that did it, but as I let
go of his arm, Jamie began to slowly - very slowly -
unbutton his shirt, and finally let it fall to the
floor.  He didn't bother to untie the laces of his
sneakers - perhaps he was in some way aware that he
wasn't going to wear them himself ever again - put
used each foot in turn to lever them off.  He stood
there then in his fashionably low jeans - I could see
he was "sagging" as there was a big strip of boxer
visible above the waistband, and I had to glare at him
and whisper "....and the jeans, son" before his hands
reached down and fumbled with his belt buckle and the
buttons on this flies.  He gradually lowered the jeans
to the floor, then stepped out of them.

Both the sheikh and I then stood there looking at
Jamie's body.  I don't know what the Sheikh thought,
but I was staring in amazement at my son who I hadn't
seen for some time, and who had matured astonishingly
in the interim.  He'd gone from being a "schoolboy", a
mere kid, to that interesting state of being a very
young guy just on the cusp of turning into a real man.
 My mind flashed back and I knew I had looked just
like him when I  was his age - we were both tall, both
probably better-built than our fellows (I wondered if
Jamie spent as many hours in the gym as I had at his
age, as I wanted a strong body to ensure I got picked
for the football team).  Like me he had prominent,
dark aureoles which were surrounded by the beginnings
of the thatch of chest hair that I had, and from there
a visible trail of hair snaked down across his hard,
flat belly (with a nicely turned-in navel) to
disappear into the top of his boxers.   I remember
thinking that it was funny that in this, too, he was
like me at his age - not for us the tight briefs some
young guys favour, or even those tight elasticated
boxers:  no, like me Jamie had loose cotton boxers
that if they had not had a fly could have doubled as
shorts:  I wondered if it was for the same reason I
chose them at his age - I had so many erections that I
needed my cock to be loose, and not all cramped up!

Jamie stood there, clearly uncertain of what to do
next.  He was shifting his weight slightly from one
foot to another as if in some sort of inner turmoil,
and his hands moved too, sometimes just hanging
loosely at his sides, sometimes almost crossing to the
front as if to hide his dick, and sometimes fingering
the waistband of his boxers as if very, very uncertain
as to what to do next.  I knew it was inevitable,
though, so I put my arm around his naked shoulders to
comfort him a bit - I hadn't had bodily contact with
Jamie for a long time, and a strange thrill ran
through me: was this how all fathers and sons were
with each other in normal circumstances, I wondered?
I then said quietly and calmly "OK, Jamie -  drop the
boxers, and then get those socks off."

"No, dad....  You've got to stop this...."

"I can't, son.  Now, just do as you're told.  Come on,
 I know you're a jock, and you can't be a stranger to
stripping publicly - just imagine you're in the locker
room, before a match.  And I've seen you naked before,
you know.... I was around more when you were a kid, so
you've got no secrets from me....  And if you take
after me down there as much as the rest of you seems
to, you've got nothing to be ashamed of:  most guys
are proud of cocks like ours."

"But dad, the old guy.... The way he's looking at
me...."

"Just ignore him, Jamie.   You've got to do this.
I'll explain it all later, but we're both in big, big
trouble if you don't get a move on.  Trust me....."


Reluctantly, and slowly, very slowly, Jamie put his
thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and did that
kind of combined stretching of it and shuffling of his
hips that caused them to pass over his butt and slip
down his legs.  He stepped out of them, and as he did
so he did that thing a lot of guys do when they strip
off - as if it was a reflex, he reached down and gave
a little "flick" of his cock to free it from where
sweat had stuck it to his balls.  Even through the
thick dense forest of pubic hair (he matched up to me
in that score, too), I could see  his thick-ish cock
was properly in proportion to the rest of him, and,
like me, his balls hung low in their sac.   Mind you,
like a lot of free guys he did look a bit strange:
his torso and lower legs were heavily tanned, whereas
the band around his butt and upper thighs were lily
white - when I was a kid the fashion was for small
bathing trunks, like Speedos, but I supposed this was
the effect of today's fashion for long-legged
"swimmers".  I sometimes wonder if guys who wear stuff
like that at the pool or beach realise just how
ridiculous they look when the do strip completely off.

"Now the socks.... Come on....", I said calmly, and
Jamie bent down to pull them in turn off his feet.  I
was glad to see his mom had always ensured he had
loose shoes, as his toes were long and not deformed in
any way - indeed, there was something almost sensuous
as they wriggled slightly on the smooth tiles of the
floor.

The Sheikh's voice broke the silence - his accent was
one of barely suppressed excitement.  "Excellent,
Steve, truly excellent!  You have clearly sired a son
who shares all the splendour of your body.  I always
enjoy seeing a man bend over as he just did, and what
I have witnessed of your son's long, lean thighs as he
pulled his socks off tells me that this slave holds
many, many delights for me."

I could see Jamie starting to look distressed, and I
said "Highness, please....."

"No, Steve.  Let us have no uncertainty over this.
Your son is a slave, as are you yourself, and you know
a slave has no need of false modesty, no need to be
concerned about displaying his body to his owner, or
to anyone else his owner commands.  After all, I own
him, and you could therefore expect me to wish to look
at my possessions - especially when they are as
intoxicatingly sensual as your boy is."

He carried on staring - or was it leering - at Jamie
for a few seconds, and before I could say anything
else he continued  "The resemblance to you is so truly
astonishing  that I think I  wish to make a closer
comparison.  Be so good as to unclothe, Steve, so I
can compare you two more closely."

Look, I knew it was futile to argue with him.  Indeed,
the more I argued, the more unpleasant things he would
probably think of me to do.  And, of course, I'd been
naked in front of him many, many, many times.  So I
ought to have had no problems with just shucking my
shirt and shorts.  But when I saw Jamie staring at me,
almost in horror at the idea of us both being naked, I
hesitated.  Even that slight hesitation didn't escape
the notice of the Sheikh, but fortunately I saw the
way his mood was about to change and before he could
say anything else I reached down, grabbed the hem of
my polo shirt and pulled it up over my head, and then
let the thing drop to the floor.

Jamie's look of horror changed to one of shock when he
saw the rings in my tits - well, you can hardly escape
seeing them as they're so big and thick, and with the
exceptionally well developed pecs that I've got, they
hang down.  Or was it the glinting of the lights in
the highly polished surface of the steel that caught
his eye?

I sort of hoped that this would be enough, but the
Sheikh made a little twitching gesture with his hand
that indicated he wanted more, so I undid the button
holding he top of my shorts closed, slid down the zip,
and let them fall.  I kicked my sandals off as I
stepped out of the fabric bunched around my feet, and
stood there utterly naked.

Jamie was really staring at me now - it was possible,
I suppose, that he was surprised at my all-over tan
that was so rich and deep:  well, if you'd been
working as I had as a pony totally naked in the fierce
sun it was hardly surprising, and even after my return
to power as the Instrument I'd found it so much less
of a fuss just to go swimming naked, so keeping the
colour deep and even.

"Astonishing!", the Sheikh commented.  "You two really
are so alike,"

"Yes, Highness, when I look at my son I can almost see
myself as I was at his age."

"Ah, so I have an excellent investment!  The boy is
very tempting as he is, as a young stripling buck;
but the thought that he will mature and grow into a
fine, strong beast like you, Steve, is very pleasing.
And, of course, I could demonstrate that your genes
'breed true' into your progeny:   when I decide to
stud you, that will mean that I can charge a very high
level of fees."

A small chill went through me at the thought of him
putting me to stud - not because I didn't know how to
fuck a woman, as, after all, I had been married and
fathered Jamie, but because to me that's the ultimate
degradation that you can put a slave to.  Not only do
you totally own and possess him, but you can require
him to perpetuate his slavehood down into the future.
It's not right - a man ought to be able to fuck who he
wants and sire his kids when he wants to, not at the
whim of his owner.  But I knew it was futile even
starting to argue the point, so I stood there
silently.

"I think I want a better comparison.  Stand back to
back, so I can gauge which of you is the taller", the
Sheikh rapped, breaking my momentary reverie.

Jamie's eyes went even wider as he heard this, so I
put one hand on his bare shoulder to reassure him and
said as calmly an as quietly as I could "It's OK,
son... Just carry on doing as you're told, and
everything will be all right."

I turned him so that he was sideways-on to the Sheikh,
then took up position behind him, so we were back to
back.

"I can't see properly like that, Steve", the Sheikh
called out.  "I want to make a proper comparison.  Get
right up close."

It was no use arguing, so I kind of shuffled slowly
backwards.  As my butt touched Jamie's he gave a
little quiet cry, and in return I whispered "Now stand
up straight, brace yourself, shoulders back... Make a
good impression!"

Jamie's shoulders were hot against mine, too, and as
we stood there in such intimate contact I could feel
him trembling slightly - we were both sweating, and
his small movements caused our buttocks to rub against
each other.  I know it was wrong, but for some reason
I found the whole thing rather erotic, and I could
start to feel an erection building - something I
desperately tried to stifle.  I hoped that Jamie was
not having the same problem - after all, I was more or
less used to springing a boner in front of the Sheikh,
but I doubted that Jamie has ever had anyone else see
him in this intimate state (well, I suppose one or
other of his girlfriends might have - if he took after
me in behaviour as much as he did in looks, he'd
certainly have fucked around a bit at school by now!).

"Excellent, truly excellent!", the Sheikh said.  "The
boy is within a hair's breadth of being the same
height as you, Steve.  And I suspect he has a little
more to grow.  You are a delight to the eye, Steve, as
your tall frame carries your muscle so well - but this
boy, if taller, and if rigorously exercised to put on
proper muscle, has the potential to surpass you."

I hated being described like this - I mean, Jamie and
I were men, weren't we?  Not some prize cattle in a
stock show, whose owners would decide the amount of
muscle they would exhibit.  But even as my anger
started to rise at this humiliation, the next words
were even worse.

"So now turn around and face each other.  I find it
hard to make a proper comparison of your cocks.  So
face each other, to make it easier."

I turned, and found Jamie still standing where he was,
as if frozen into inactivity.  I put my hand on his
bare shoulder again and said very quietly, hoping the
Sheikh would not hear, "Come on, son.  It will soon be
all over."  As I said this I tugged gently at him to
cause him to turn, then, seeing the scared look in his
eyes, I kept my hand on his shoulder as we faced each
other.

"You are both beautiful", I heard the Sheikh say
(something which caused Jamie's already deep blushes
to get even worse).  "But I cannot judge the length of
your male members properly.  Be so good as to become
erect, and then move towards each other and tell me
who touched who first."

I could see Jamie's lips forming a "NO!", so squeezed
my hand on his shoulder, that caused him to stop.
"Come on, Jamie", I hissed.  "It's no big deal.
Remember, there's danger here for both of us if you
don't obey."

His head began to  move to signify "No", but I tried
to smile faintly to reassure him, muttering "It's no
big deal, really.  Come on, guys get erect all the
time.  I bet you've been hard several times already
today."

He was looking away, trying to avoid my direct stare,
so with my other hand I reached down and began to
stroke my dick into hardness  - you might think it
would be difficult, given the anger and shame I was
feeling, but of course I'm not all that old, and you
guys I'm sure know how it is:  a bit of teasing of
your dick, and it will usually want to show how big
and firm it can get!

Gripping Jamie's shoulder even harder now, I said
calmly "OK, son, come on.... You've seen how it's
done.  Now, are you going to do it, or shall I stroke
your dick for you?"

"No, dad!"  Even though he was clearly terrified, or
most probably angry, Jamie's voice was a whisper in
reply - it's often like that, isn't it?  If you keep
your voice low, the other guy does so too.

I carried on staring at him, now directly into his
eyes, and retained my grip on his shoulder - I suppose
he could have twisted away from my grasp, but it's
kind of psychological to exert control over a guy like
that, isn't it?  I felt, rather  than saw, the slight
movement in his body as his hand went across and he
began to stroke himself - slowly at first, and then
when evidently it wasn't having the desired effect,
harder and faster.

When he stopped and a quick look down showed that he
was hard and erect, I started to move forward.  But
the Sheikh called out "No, Steve, that's not fair!
You're getting on a bit, and your cock is not even
horizontal, even though I can see you are properly
erect.  But the boy's is reaching for the sky!  It
looks to me as if he wants his cock head to touch his
belly!  I do like that in young men, that extra
virility it implies.  But it's unfair to compare the
length of your cocks that way.  Wrap your hand around
both of them so that they're side by side."

I hated it.  I mean, a guy doesn't want to have an
erection in front of other guys, does he? (well,  not
unless the other guys are about to be fucked by him!).
But there was no point in delaying.  Once the Sheikh
had commanded it, I was going to have to do it sooner
or later.  And if I delayed, there would be an
opportunity for Jamie to do something foolish.  So,
still keeping a grip on his shoulder so he couldn't
move away, I let my other hand snake across and grab
his dick.  A couple of quick shuffles then and our
dicks were side by side, with my hand wrapped firmly
around them.

Look, when I was with Jason I quite often liked to
hold our dicks close together like that - I think it's
incredibly sensual to feel the heat of another guy's
dick all the way along the length of yours, and if you
start to rub them together, the slight stretching and
stuff that you both experience just adds to the
excitement.  But when it's your son's dick, it's
different, isn't it?  I mean I suppose I'd touched
Jamie's dick before, when he was a tiny kid and needed
help going to the bathroom, but as he got older I'd
never done it.  And you know how it is when guys get
to puberty - as soon as Jason started to grow his
pubes I never even saw his dick again, let alone had
any opportunity to touch it!.

I reckoned I'd better get it over with as quickly as I
could, and moved forward.  The end of my dick gave a
little thrill as Jason's wiry pubic forest made
contact with it, but to my amazement I felt the end of
his dick touch me before I made contact with his skin!
 I've always got the idea that I've got a big dick,
bigger than almost all the other guys I see, so this
did surprise me.  But then I thought that if Jamie was
already as tall as I was, and was going to end up
taller, it probably wasn't surprising that his dick
was a few millimetres longer than mine.

Evidently the Sheikh had seen enough, as he slapped
his hands and exclaimed "Excellent!  Alike in this
too, Steve.  Except of course for one thing.... Bring
the boy over to me, as I wish to take a closer look."

Still erect, Jamie looked dumbfounded as with my hand
on his shoulder I "steered" him over towards the
Sheikh.  We stopped facing him, and I heard the Sheikh
say "Put him in 'display', Steve."

Well, as you probably know, "display" is the position
that slave owners the world over prefer their slaves
to adopt if there is to be a proper inspection of
their flesh, or if the owner is proudly exhibiting his
property to a guest.  The combination of having the
hands behind the head, signifying helplessness, and
the open stance of the spread legs and the chest and
pelvis thrust forward causing the body to be totally
open to view, is far the best way of ensuring that a
valuable piece of man flesh is exhibited to its full
advantage.  Jamie knew nothing of this, of course, so
I had to fuss around a bit, gently lifting his arms
and telling him to clasp his hands behind his head,
then putting my foot between his to spread his feet a
little more apart, and finally gently pushing his butt
forward to cause his pelvis to be positioned
correctly.  His strong blushes were continuing, and,
indeed, the red colour had spread down from his face
to his shoulders (my hand print, where I had perhaps
gripped him a little too tightly, stood out starkly
against it).  He was sweating profusely, and the heady
scent of it was almost overpowering as I stood so
close to him manipulating his body.

"He's lost his erection", the Sheikh commented.  "Show
him to me properly, Steve."

"Highness, please, no...."  I had to protest a this
point, as I knew exactly what he wanted me to do,
having "shown" slaves to him many times before like
this.

"You are my Instrument, remember, Steve.  At least for
the time being.  If you do not wish to perform your
proper functions....."

The threat was enough.  You may not think that being
his Instrument, but a slave, is much - but, believe
me, it's infinitely preferable to being just a slave.
So I knew what I had to do, and, as I had with others
so many times in the past, I knelt behind Jamie - his
scent was almost overpowering now, and as my eyes were
so close I could see all the tiny droplets of sweat
all over his flanks and legs.  I eased my shoulder
forward so that it pressed against his butt and at the
same time my arm wrapped around his waist and I
flattened the palm of my hand on his belly.  His skin
was so hot, and so slippery with the sweat, that I
began to feel aroused in spite of the fact that it was
my son.

I know from experience that having a slave "locked" in
place like this is very powerful - it must be
something in the brain, as if the slave is very
powerful (as when, for example, we're about to examine
a potential new powerfully-muscled dray) there's just
no way that your hand spread on his belly and your
shoulder against his butt will hold him there.  But it
always does.

I decided then that I had to try and put aside the
fact that Jamie was my kid, and do the job
professionally, as I would for any slave.  That way
the thing would be over as quickly as possible, and,
at least if Jamie sensed that it was being done
professionally and there was nothing personal in it,
he'd be spared as much embarrassment as is possible in
the circumstances.  So I snaked my other arm around
him and smoothly cradled his dick in the palm of my
hand, raising it up so that the Sheikh could have a
proper view.

The Sheikh leaned forward to examine the dick as if it
were some rare object being presented to him in a
showroom, and then nodded at me.  The next stage is
quite difficult, as some slaves react very badly to
it, and I found it impossible to forecast how Jamie
would behave.  But there's no going back, and I curled
my fingers lightly around the dick and began to stroke
it - not at all difficult, given the amount of sweat
there was to lube it!

I think there's something very erotic about the
feeling you get as another guy goes hard in your hand,
and as Jamie reacted to my ministrations and I felt
his thickening dick creeping across my palm, I knew
the same was happening to me:  I just can't help
boning up when I'm getting another guy aroused into
that state!  I knew Jamie didn't want to be doing
this, so it took a few moments before anything
happened - but, as you know, he's a young, virile guy,
and it's just not possible for a dick on a guy like
that  not to react when another guy's stroking it,
whatever the circumstances!  I could feel all Jamie's
muscles tensing as his butt pressed against me, and I
knew his breathing would be slowing and getting
deeper.

When I sensed we'd gone as far as we were going, I
uncurled my fingers, and again the Sheikh peered
forward to get a proper look.

"Very pleasing!", he told me.  "And exactly like you,
Steve, except in one respect of course.  Be so good as
to skin the boy back, so I can see the head properly
and make a truer comparison."
Look, it's one thing to be holding your son's dick
when, like Jamie and me, we hadn't really lived
together as father and son for many years, and when I
saw him only infrequently as he grew up;  but somehow
'skinning another guy back, whether you know him or
not, whether he's related to you or not..... well,
that's a big thing, isn't it?  I mean if you're a guy
who's grown up with his dick head nicely covered by a
'skin,  it's a really private part of you, isn't it?
The only people who get to see it, beside yourself, is
your mom when you're a tiny kid and she's bathing you,
and the women you fuck when you grow up.  Even if you
do a lot of sport and stuff and are always changing in
public locker rooms, or if you're in he forces and
live your life almost communally with your buddies,
your dick head stays private, doesn't it?  When you
shower, you turn decently away from the others when
you 'skin back to clean under it, and so you're
absolutely not used to having another guy look at you.

Of course as a slave it's all different.  Almost 100%
of owners have their slaves 'skinned anyway as it's
more hygienic, and the slaves don't waste time in the
showers (if they're allowed to shower, and aren't just
kept dirty like miners, or farm workers).  It also
tells the slave quite clearly that his old life is
over - his owner can decide to have a part of the
slave's body removed as he wants it done, and there's
not a fucking thing the slave can do about it.  It
says to him that if his owner can have his 'skin
removed as the slave is merely property, the owner
could, at any time he chose, decide to have other
parts of the slave's body removed equally casually.

So as  I knelt there feeling Jamie's body trembling
very slightly against mine, I knew this was going to
be tough for him.  His very private dick head was
about to be revealed to others, and to make it worse,
it was me who was going to do it - I think he thought
of me more as a "dad" than I did of him as a "son":
and, anyway,  I was used to handling slaves, their
dicks, and their 'skins, whereas he was not used to
being handled.

"Highness, the boy is my son.... Could one of the
other slaves do this for you....",  I muttered.  I
felt my own body was betraying me, as somehow I didn't
really want to get these words out.

"I will remind you that you are my Instrument, Steve.
Your only function is to manage and control my slaves.
 If you do not wish to perform a simple task like
displaying this slave fully to me, perhaps I should
get myself a new Instrument....."

Well, as I've told you, being a slave was bad, but at
least as his Instrument my life was  a whole lot
better than that of many other slaves, so I didn't
want to go down that route!  So what option did I
have?   All I could do was to press my palm against
Jamie's belly a little tighter, to remind him that I
was still "in control" of him, then with my other hand
begin to stroke his dick gently to revive his flagging
erection and make him rock solid hard.  I heard a
faint whimper of "No, dad, please...." Coming from
Jamie (too faintly for the Sheikh to hear, I think),
but I ignored it.  Then, still keeping his dick in the
palm of my hand, I used my thumb to gently tease back
his 'skin.

I couldn't see what I was doing, actually as my head
was half behind Jamie's butt (and the heady odour of
sweat streaming down him was therefore very close to
my nose as I knelt there), but it didn't matter - I've
displayed a lot of new slaves like this, and after a
time you get used to it as your thumb gets to "know"
what it's doing.  It was obvious I was doing the right
thing, though, as the Sheikh was craning his head
forward to get a better view, and a faint smile was
playing over his lips as he evidently got a lot of
pleasure from what he saw!

Of course once you've teased the 'skin back and it's
kind of "docked" behind the head, you can stop and let
go, and this I now did, so that Jamie's dick could
stand there proud and erect and in full view.

I continued to kneel there, still "controlling" Jamie
so he wasn't tempted to do anything stupid, until the
Sheikh said softly "Excellent, truly excellent."

I got to my feet and stood next to Jamie, now putting
m arm once more around his naked shoulders to hold him
there.  I felt some how proud that we were father and
son, proud that we both had good bodies, bodies that
other men would admire and envy.

"The new slave is extremely pleasing, Steve.   I can
think of so many ways in which he will be an advantage
to me, in addition to the obvious ones of being
pleasing to the eye, and providing fresh sport in bed
- I always felt that your were overpoweringly mature
compared with Marc, and if I decide to take this slave
to my bed with Marc, it will be more enjoyable as they
are so much more evenly matched.  But there will be
financial advantages, too:  if I decide to stud him, I
can point out what strong genes must flow in him and
that therefore the progeny will bear a strong
resemblance to you both.  Or, of course....", and here
he gave a little chuckle, "I could decide to stud you
- several of my friends have offered considerable sums
to have you cover their bitches.  And I could now ask
a whole lot more, as I could display the boy as a
concrete example of what your seed produces.  And
there again, should  I decide to sell you, as a father
and son pair you would fetch much more than I could
hope to get for both of you individually.  Or perhaps
I should hire you out as an accomplished pair of
slaves, trained to satisfy the needs of jaded men -
even those normally satiated by sex will surely thrill
to the concept of having a father and son together
ministering to their needs!"

A tiny chill of horror was going through me as he said
this - he had obviously been thinking of all these
sexual possibilities, and it was bad enough that I
might have to perform degrading sexual acts for him
and his friends.  But to have to do so with my son....
Well, I just couldn't bear it.  I was about to say
something, even though it would probably cause
trouble, but fortunately I was saved as he continued
"However all this is for the future.  First we must
remove that ugly white belt around his middle, and
secondly I think  I would like him a little more toned
and buffed.  Take him away and hand him over to the
slave in charge of my gymnasium complex and order him
to work with the boy to improve him -  a few weeks of
enforced exercise in the nude under the sun should
achieve both objectives."

I breathed a sign of relief at this reprieve, but the
Sheikh continued "I have not yet decided whether the
perfection of such a fine young butt should be marred
by the slave brand,  so for the moment there is no
need  to use the branding iron on him.  But of course
I must uphold the law as an example to all my
subjects, and so he does need marking:  have his SIN
tattooed on his upper arm as is usual, and brand a
small house ownership mark underneath it - something
small and discreet, but which indicates that he is my
property."

I knew it was no use arguing about this - all slaves
were branded and have their slave ID's inked into
their skin, as had been done to me.  So I simply said
"Yes, Highness", and hoped that we could manage to get
it done with minimal pain for Jamie.  But the Sheikh
continued "And of course have that pubic thatch
properly trimmed and thinned......  And clear his ass
of hair, so that when we next meet the traditional
taking of his virginity will be more pleasant.

Again that chill went through me as I thought of what
Jamie was going to have to endure, but there was
absolutely nothing I could do about it, so I nodded
and said "It will be as you command, Highness", and
turned to lead Jamie out of the room.

Stupidly, Jamie stopped to go to pick up his boxers
and jeans, and made an attempt to start to dress.  The
sheikh looked at me and remarked "Such innocence!  And
the sight of him bending like that is so very
seductive.... Perhaps we should not wait, and perhaps
it would be amusing were you to induct him properly as
a slave now."

"It grows late, Highness... Perhaps such excitement
for you will disturb your sleep.... And perhaps it
would be even more erotic if the boy was properly
prepared, and was more buff...."

"As ever, Steve, you think of me, and what you say has
some merit.  Yes, we will wait - the anticipation will
add to the overall pleasure."  With that the Sheikh
gave a gesture of dismissal, and I grabbed Jamie by
the arm and almost dragged him across the floor and
out of the room as quickly as I could.

Outside, as the giant doors closed behind us, Jamie
stood there looked totally embarrassed and desperately
trying to hide his genitals with his hands.  "Dad,
we're naked....", he hissed, scanning the corridor
both ways anxiously.

"It doesn't matter.  Come on, let's get out of here
before the old man changes his mind...."  I grabbed
his arm again and strode off at a quick pace, feeling
my cock bobbing up and down as I did so.  I was used
to it, of course, but I could understand what Jamie
must be going through.  The next concern that struck
me was what I ought to do with Jamie that night - I
could of course  take him to the general slave
quarters and have him caged: in a one-man cage there
would be no fear of any of the other slaves molesting
him, but, on the other hand, he'd have to curl up in
there naked and exposed and he'd be able to see all
the other slaves disporting themselves around and
about him - and I didn't think he was ready for that.
So the only choice really was to take him back to my
own room, and I headed off down the service corridor
that way.

"Don't worry, son", I told Jason reassuringly as we
scurried along.  "You can stay with me in my room
tonight.  There's plenty of room for two in my bed,
and tomorrow we can get you some clothes."

It was only as my hand reached for the handle of my
own space that I remembered that I'd told Jason he was
to spend the night there with me, and not in the
stables!

As I opened the door I heard Jason give an audible
gasp of astonishment.  Jason had got tired of waiting
for me, and had decided to "amuse" himself.  And what
way can a guy amuse himself when he's alone and in a
featureless room with no books, no TV, nothing like
that?  Jason was sprawled across the bed, his deeply
tanned body in high contrast to the plain white
sheets, and his whole frame somehow covering the bed.
His nipple and cinch rings were glittering in the
light. He was sweating and moaning as his hand stroked
up and down his long, thick rampantly erect cock.

End Of Part Fifteen