Date: Sat, 30 Aug 2003 16:45:14 +0100 From: Gerry Taylor Subject: The Reluctant Retrainer - Chapter 22 This is the 22nd and final chapter of The Reluctant Retrainer, part two of a trilogy of novels of gay sex. PART THREE OF THE TRILOGY, THE MARKET OFFER, BEGINS ON 20th SEPTEMBER 2003 Keywords: authority, control, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, loyalty This story is entirely a work of fiction and all rights to it and its characters are copyright and private to and reserved by the author. No reproduction by anyone for any reason whatsoever is permitted. If you are underage to read this kind of material or if this material will be unlawful for you to read where your live, please leave his webpage now. Contact points: eMail: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com Web: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories The Reluctant Retrainer by Gerry Taylor Chapter 22 -- Investigations One evening as I was eating my evening meal, Bob, the Canadian, who was the usual slave to serve me at table, seem to be distracted in his own thoughts. `A penny for them, Bob' I said and he jumped a little and just like him, when caught in something strange or that he should not have been doing, he started to blush. `Sorry, Master.' `Sorry for what, Bob? You were miles away. And now you are blushing, so what gives?' His Adam's apple jumped up and down as he swallowed hard. `I was just thinking of back in Canada, Master' he said very quietly. `Kneel over here beside me, Bob' He knelt beside me as I ate my meal. I rubbed his short cut hair and tickled him behind an ear. He even managed a half smile. `You're not angry with me, Master?' `Why should I be, Bob, your thoughts are your own. Why now? What's up? Are you unhappy here?' `I don't know why Master. I just thought of my family having an evening meal back home. And no, I cannot say I am unhappy here. Life is different here. I don't think I can ever leave here' -- and he pointed to the titanium bracelet on his right ankle behind him -- `not unless Canada recognises slavery, which I doubt,' which he said with a wry smile. `Master, I am sorry I was distracted during your meal.' `Bob, you have nothing to be sorry about. I am glad you told me what was on your mind. Now, if you have no other worries at the moment, what would make you really happy?' He thought for a moment, and then half smiled and said, `I would really like to make Flavio happy in bed.' `Bob, now you shock me indeed. I thought that you two were getting on very happily together like larks in clover.' Each of the slaves had a buddy who was first and foremost a companion, but who usually became a lover and their bonding in sex, initially a mating passion, soon became either a love which carried them through the life they had in the Aloe Palace, or cemented a friendship at the very least for the time being. `Boss, I love him to bits. He is warm and generous and kind and loving. Each night I try to find a new place of his body to make love too and he is so sensitive all over that that is not difficult. I am even become a reasonable lover to him now that he has had his surgery.' I had Flavio's anus attended to as he had been fist fucked for over a month in Italy before being sold on to the auction-house at al-Qatim and he had been tightened up back there. `So, what Bob is the problem?' My fingers were now running over Bob's cock head which with its very tender joining just under its tip ensured that he was rock-hard in less than a minute. He adjusted the space between his legs, like he always did when he wanted me to touch his firm twenty-year old balls. They were warm and smooth, all hair having long been taken off them by the original depilating cream. `Flavio can't fuck me well, Boss. I know I have stretched and stretched myself back there with three and four-inch plugs, but I am still too tight for his size. You do know, Boss, that when he gets big, he really gets big -- a lot bigger and thicker than Mehmed and Mamoud. Back in Canada, we used say `beer can' big'. `That big?' I said surprised. `So, you are really saying that you want to find a buddy for him whom he can fuck without tearing him to pieces.' `In one, Master, in one. And Master if you do not stop what you are doing, I am going to have more than a little accident.' I looked at him and he looked at me and we both started laughing. `Well, Bob, that problem we can solve right now, but your problem with Flavio is not something either of us can solve tonight. But you have given me something to think about. Now stand up and let me see what a healthy young man you are.' His cock was in all its glory as I gently sucked him off to a worthy climax, but I was thinking at the same time as I was sucking -- it is strange how the mind can operate on two levels - I did not let on that what I was really thinking about was not Flavio, but Canada and the family that was lost to him. Two of the advantages of the Grand Cayman Island, apart from the private banking, are that they are eight hours behind Dahra and secondly, though I hate saying it, it is an island where money talks. I rang my private Bank in Georgetown, its capital, after dinner and asked for a firm of lawyers who could set up a company for me. The Bank said that their own in-house lawyers did that all the time and I was put through to one of them -- a very competent lady. I said that I wanted a company where my identity would not be known as a shareholder, and which would have at least one director who could carry out various jobs for me which for the moment would involve hiring various investigators in various parts of the world. The lady lawyer indicated that this would be simplicity itself and that she herself would have the company created before close of business that day, and that she had such a director -- a Josh Green, living locally, not actually working for the Bank, something to do with local Cayman law, who was a director or company secretary of various of the Bank's offshore companies and available who would carry out the duties required of him as instructed by the sole shareholder. I asked for a company Bank account to be set up at the private Bank and had two million euro transferred into it to cover capital and future expenses. Script and voice signatories to the account would be any two of three -- herself, this Josh Green and myself. She said she would send me an eMail of his contact numbers and details, which she did twenty minutes later. Josh Green was as efficient as the lady lawyer and over the next few days each evening after dinner, I emailed him the background details I had on each of the slaves I owned and asked him to look into the family backgrounds of the those `missing' persons, as they would appear to him, whose dossiers I had sent him. I told him that all of these persons would have been regarded as `missing' at some stage in the past. It was not that I was looking for these people, but rather what had happened or was happening to the families that had been left behind. If Josh Green had received strange or stranger requests in the past, he betrayed no sense of amazement, but merely asked when or how urgent the reports were to be. I replied anytime over the next thirty days. What surprised me when the reports arrived in two's and three's over the following weeks, some of the reports taking up to almost two months, were two common factors in all of them -- first, how little each of the slaves had actually left behind and secondly, save in four cases, how quickly they were forgotten by those who had known them. In twelve of the twenty nine cases, there was no traceable family whatsoever, and Ross's comment at one stage about the Aloe Palace now being `a family' for each slave who lived there rang so very true. By European seasonal timing, late winter and early spring in Dahra were a time of year when the Aloe Palace and its grounds always looked superb according to Aziz, whom I had acquired from the previous owner as head of household. The Dahran climate was perhaps at its best in the early year when the sun was not yet too hot. I now had over twenty acres of walkway under pergolas and open gardens in a riot of colour. The slaves themselves, particularly the Swedes on loan and those who worked the fields of vegetables, would simply walk the gardens in the shade during the hotter parts of the day and stroll in the evening under the pergolas covered with every possible clematis and trellis climber. The one thing the gardens did not have was any great number of fountains or water works and that was one thing I was determined to remedy in a new Palace I was beginning to think of building on the newly acquired lands where the water had been discovered. I decided to hold off action on to the reports until after the new Palace was built. I was already calling it in my mind the Lime Palace as it was near the capped water wells where some lime trees had been growing. My long-term plan was to create the largest of farms -- albeit a slave-farm -- on which the slaves could live and work, cultivating a market garden of herbs and the aloe plant which grew so well in the desert climate and for which I had plans. Since my arrival some twenty months earlier, the slaves had become a family of sorts, living with dignity though in subservience and submission to me, their lord and Master, Sir Jonathan Martin. Here at my Palace, I thought that the slaves should have as useful a life as possible with the purpose of giving me enjoyment and pleasure in every conceivable manner. I also felt that Fate, which had placed them and such enormous wealth in my hands, gave me the means not only to have my every sexual or material whim sated, in any manner and form I wish, but also that same Fate gave me the means to achieve my other desires and ends. How some of this all happened in the new year is part of another story which as I record these matters, in my mind's eye, I called The Market Offer. The End Characters in part two of the story of Sir Jonathan Martin - my story Background Characters Abdou al-Akhri youngest of the al-Akhri brothers Abu Ben-Azri businessman, seaweed producer Colin Bowman Deckam's Rio de Janeiro partner Farouq al-Hamdi Mine owner and businessman Gus Jennings American, Tariq al-Akhri's stable overseer Gustav Ahlson Swedish, head of Deckams' Dahra office Ivan Urlov Russian, unsuccessful stables overseer Jalal al-Akhri Second of the al-Akhri brothers John Tunnor personnel partner at Deckams Jonathan Martin myself, English, banker Deckams' Dahra partner Rashid al-Akhri eldest brother and head of the al-Akhri family Tariq al-Akhri deputy Finance Minister, 2nd al-Akhri brother Tommy Elford English, Deckams' Tokyo partner Employees Cal Thorson American, second dentist Hal Thiecke American, first dentist Nacho Cuesta Costa Rican, ophthalmologist Yves Fournier Doctor and surgeon Overseers Aziz al-Aziz head of Abdou al-Akhri's, head of my household Greg Logan English, former Commando, 10th slave, training overseer Pete Downings Australian, painter, 21st slave, 2nd head of household Stan Mercer New Zealander, 26th slave, water overseer Yuriy Obov Kazakh, my 1st slave, fields overseer Assistant overseers at the Aloe Palace Jess Tollman American, paint factory worker, my 16th slave Radek Pachlik Czech, 2nd slave, assistant field overseer Rolf Hanzer Swiss German, sports, 3rd slave, gym and swim coach Assistant overseers at the Lime Palace Dumi Bod Moldavian, my 5th slave, assistant field overseer Jiri Aron Czech, farmhand, my 8th slave, far Mehmed/Mamoud the two layabout slaves, Mehri, 14th and 15th slaves Raoul Sounard French, meat packer, 23rd slave Todd Allen American, lorry driver, 20th slave, assistant field overseer Yedo Petrov Bulgarian, farm worker, 18th slave Personal and household slaves Ali Tasani Kurd, 11th slave Andy McTee Scottish, 24th slave, English teacher Bob Conrad Canadian, jock, 7th slave, house help, English teacher Bryce Sands American, English teacher Flavio Pinelli Italian, my 4th slave, my chef Food and Drink my two body slaves, 12th and 13th slaves Hassan Dufhar Somali, 25th slave, Arabian teacher Ivan Sorovich Russian, 1st slave to be retrained Jake Johansson Danish, 1st prisoner slave Jerzy Zarchewicz Polish, waiter, 28th slave, property team Komil Rostov Uzbek, mechanic, 19th slave, personal slave Marek Czyblonzki Polish, bartender, 27th slave, property team Nassr al-Merga Egyptian, Arabic Teacher Niko Ziel South African, ex 20 gift slaves Randy Tait American, electrician, 22nd slave, assistant to doctor Roge Harte Australian, footballer, personal trainer Rob Kuiper South African, ex 20 gift slaves Ross Wells English, ninth slave, call guy, English teacher Scott Billings American, English teacher Sergio Goncalves Brazilian, limbo dancer, assistant to dentist Sunar Hussein Iraqi, Arabic Teacher Tommy Saunders American, ex-cop, English teacher Vitali Belov Russian, 6th slave, my masseur Walid Boudenib Moroccan, Arabic Teacher Wik Kootens Dutch, 30th slave, property team