Date: Mon, 01 Dec 2003 16:23:41 +0000 From: Gerry Taylor Subject: The Special Memories - Chapter 4 - Gay - Authoritarian This is the fourth chapter ex twenty two of a novel about slavery and gay sex. Keywords: authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, gay, sex This story is entirely a work of fiction and all rights to it and its characters are copyright, and private to and reserved by the author. No reproduction by anyone for any reason whatsoever is permitted. If you are underage to read this kind of material or if this material is unlawful for you to read where your live, please leave this webpage now. Contact points: e: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com w: http://www.geocities.com/gerrytaylor_78/ w: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories The Special Memories by Gerry Taylor Chapter 4 -- The Arabic Teacher The evening with Abdul also made me think of something else. It caused me to think of a more distant future. I had seen entrusted to me the life of an angel in the person and slave of Abdul ben-Azri. I also had the ownership of two large Palaces and just under some six hundred slaves at that point. I had balanced almost two hundred and forty of my own farm slaves, with an equal number from the prisons of Europe and the balance were my personal and palace slaves and my overseers. I resolved to do a number of things and just like life, things come in strings of events and rarely as life shattering singularities. Although Deckams has long been part of the Dahra financial establishment and Arabic is spoken in the street outside its doors, inside being an international Bank, our staff invariably end up talking in English -- the international language of business and banking. While at home at the Palaces, we speak English in the mornings and Arabic after midday, Jack, my nephew, but now working eight to four at the Bank, returning with me at five each evening to the Lime Palace saw he was falling behind more and more in learning the language. Jack came to me and said, he wanted to take private lessons from one of the Arabic teachers, of whom we have four, at the Palace. I immediately thought of Aziz, my head of household, who though not a teacher spoke an impeccable and precise Arabic, perhaps not as modern and colloquial as some of the teachers younger than he, but certainly with clearer diction. `Uncle Jonathan, I can do it for the two hours before dinner each evening. Please, please?' `Jack, you won't have time for two hours each evening. We are barely back at five and you have to get changed and cleaned up. Let's say an hour and a half four days a week and a couple of hours on Friday and Saturday. That way you will be soon up to speed. I'll tell Hassan to adjust his schedule.' `Uncle Jonathan, not Hassan.' `Nassr or Walid will then do fine they are both very experienced by now.' `Uncle Jonathan, they are old.' `So you really want Sunar Hussein to teach you.' `Yes, please, they say that he speaks very clearly.' `And he is also hung like I don't know what with that half-cut cock of his.' Jack blushed. `Are you sure that it is only Arabic you want, Jack?' `Uncle, you are joking.' `I'll have a word with Hassan and see how he can adjust Sunar's schedules' and I waved my nephew out of my sight. I thought I would have a laugh at Jack's expense, because when at home in the Palace, he is permanently trying to improve his all-over suntan, which has him and his two Romanian slaves up on the roof with enough suntan lotion to slide a ship down a slipway When he is not on the roof sun tanning, he is in bed listening to his music and doing heaven knows what else with his gypsy playmates, who have worshipped the ground he walks on since the day he bought them. I do think that Hassan, the head Arabic teacher, lives in fear of me. Certainly there is respect, but there is a modicum fear -- no bad thing really. My fault most likely for having him flogged in the courtyard early on in his stay -- the first and only slave to be publicly punished so far in the history of the Palaces. My suggestion for Sunar Hussein to teach Jack was not just agreed by him, his agreement sounded like a national surrender without conditions. I told him to have Sunar come and see me. When Sunar arrived the first thing I noticed about him was that he actually looked very well. With the number of slaves in the Palaces, it is hard to have a one-to-one contact with each and although I do the morning inspection three times a week, it is just that, an inspection and a quick one at that before I leave for the Bank, so I do not have time to look each of the slaves over at any great length. I motioned him close after his obeisance and took his sizeable manhood in my hand. He is the only one of all the slaves in the Palace with a half cut foreskin, despite being an Iraqi Arab. It firmed up immediately and within its sheath of skin on its shaft, the flesh was throbbing and firm to the touch. `My nephew, Master Jack, needs to learn some things, Sunar, starting tomorrow. Adjust your schedules with Hassan. It will be after your other classes when the young Master returns from work each day and at the weekends.' His member was now totally hard and its warm flesh made its length seem even longer. `Yes, Master. Please excuse me, his classes are to be in the room where my classes are usually held?' `If that is where young Master Jack wishes them. He is very inexperienced and lacking in knowledge and stays in bed a lot. He may want some classes in his bedroom,' and I gave his now impressive member another firm squeeze. Sunar gave a little groan, but still said `yes, as the Master wishes.' The Arabic teacher had a good body with well-developed chest muscles, which formed good pectoral features and large brown nipples. I ran my hand down his belly and he shivered a little at my unexpected touch. His navel was deep and I pressed it hard. His penis jumped a little and erected out from its two inch trimmed bush of black hair, which ended immediately above his shaft. He had lost all other body hair and had no trail of hair as freemen would have from their navel to their pubes. That small feature was also a sign of slavedom in all my slaves, as indeed legs totally devoid of body hair. `There is no point in Master Jack just knowing a little and having poor Arabic into the bargain. He needs to find out all aspects of Dahran and Arab culture. Talking of which, who is looking after you at night?' and I squeezed his member again firmly and saw a drop of clear liquid emerge from his piss-slit.' He mentioned hoarsely one of the Chechens. `Nothing much exciting with him then.' The Chechens had a poor reputation for knowing only one or two sexual positions and then of falling asleep immediately on their partner after coming. `I shall tell Master Jack that you will see him tomorrow in his bedroom at half past four when we get back from work.' `Yes, Master.' `And I shall expect weekly reports from you on his progress. If he does not improve it will be a long month of retraining for you Sunar.' `Yes, Master. Hopefully not, Master.' I apprised Jack of the situation and of his new Arabic teacher. The following afternoon Sunar proceeded to Jack's bedroom and told him in Jack's own words `that he was there to teach the young Master in the classroom and in the bedroom all that he needed to know.' It had not taken Jack long to realise he had been set up, but to save Sunar's blushes he said, they would have their classes on the roof of the Palace where at that time day it would be cool. Sunar was confused until he realised that Jack was talking only of Arabic. When Jack told me all of this, I thought to myself that if he comes through learning Arabic well, there just might well be a case of him taking on greater responsibilities at the Palace. It was also at this time that I had resolved to have the Sheik set my head of household free. Aziz had been a faithful head of household to his previous owner Abdou al-Akhri, youngest brother of my friend Tariq and before that, to the brothers' father and mother. In other settings, he would have been ultimate Chamberlain of a Sultan or Permanent Private Secretary in a country's Civil Service. Here with me, he was my most trusted slave in so many ways. I rang Tariq and stated what I wanted. He explained that only the Sheik could grant freedom and that it would be an honour for him to have his lawyers prepare the 'Declaration of Freedom' paper as it was called. End of Chapter 4