Date: Wed, 7 May 2008 09:56:19 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Instrument, Part 17

THE INSTRUMENT

By Pete Brown   petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part Seventeen


The so-called "training master" isn't a master at all,
of course - no free man would want to spend his days
in the company of all the sweaty slaves being
exercised into shape:  it's just a convenient way of
referring to him, as he has total charge of the gym
and all the other apparatus that we use.  He's a big
nigga - and when I say big, I mean big, really big -
not only is he taller than me even, but he's broad,
and very muscled.  I know him quite well as I suppose
you could regard him as one of my "direct reports" -
he's one of the slaves, like the head of the household
slaves, who reports to me and has responsibility  for
a particular sphere of the operation of the demesne.
Of course it was easier when I was a free man as there
was never any doubt that I could order him around, and
 I thought I might have some trouble with him once I
returned to my job - he had, after all, been in charge
of exercising me to turn me into a pony slave, and I'd
 often been caned and tawsed by him as he ensured that
I quickly put on the power and speed necessary to
"match" me with Jason.   But my fears were groundless:
 once I was reinstated he put his huge arm around me
and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

"It'll be good to have you back in charge, Steve", he
told me.  "It was getting hard to properly work on and
discipline all the other slaves when that Marc was
here - he had no interest in it, and I thought at one
time he was actually going to give up training
altogether, and then I'd be put back into a
coffle...."

I gave a little laugh, and extricated myself from him.
 Of course when I was a free man there was no way he
would have dared touch me like that, or call me
"Steve", but now we were after all both theoretically
the same.  I hated having his sweat all over my crisp
polo shirt, but there was little I could do about it
and I continued "Don't you worry about that, Winston!
It's normal service again now, and, as you know, our
master likes to see all the slaves fit and strong and
as I get around the place and see those who have let
themselves go a bit, I think you'll find you're
actually overworked.  And don't worry about being put
into a coffle - with a body like yours we'd use you as
a dray or something anyway!  Or perhaps as a
stud......"


Winston was justifiably proud of his body and would
happily have worked naked as he relished displaying
his physique to the envy of other men.  But in order
to differentiate him from the mass of slaves, I had
always insisted that he wore a "uniform" and had
suggested that he wore a polo and slave shorts to mark
his status.  But he hadn't liked that, and, over time,
the "uniform" had been whittled away so that he could
still claim to be obeying my orders whilst satisfying
his need for "display".  So he stood there by me now
in the tiny white loincloth that he thought
constituted a "uniform" and that barely concealed his
massive genitals, and at the mention of the word
"stud" he now pulled it to one side, and burst out
laughing.

"You can't use me as a stud, Steve!   Look at this -
it would take so long to soften the bitches up before
they could take this that everyone would get bored
waiting.  If I tried to 'cover' them quickly they'd
get torn and battered....."

"You're right, Winston!  If we ever retire you from
being training master, it's going to have to be
service as a dray for you".  I carried on smiling as I
said this, as I needed Winston's active co-operation.
But, actually, he was right:  choosing a slave as a
stud is difficult.  Most owners assume that all they
need to do is find a very big, very strong slave, and
that the studding process will then make it likely
that the progeny will inherit some of the sire's
characteristics and produce a next generation of hard
workers.  But in selecting for a large,
heavily-muscled body on a stud, you also tend to get
large, fat cocks and this can, as Winston rightly
said, cause problems for the bitches.  Of course you
don't want a stud with a small cock, as you want the
progeny to "look good" when they're working, and so
you don't want to risk breeding small cocks into your
herd.  So it's a matter of balance:  a good, big,
strong body, but a "reasonable" cock is what you're
looking for in a stud, and on those criteria, Winston
failed spectacularly as his cock was so very, very,
big.  On the other hand, I mused, if he did not
perform properly as a training master, there would be
a certain pleasure in seeing him sweating and
straining, totally naked, along with a team of drays,
and I made a mental note to myself of this.

I pushed Jamie forward now, and seeing the boy Winston
of course knew what he was there for.  "Ha, a new
slave to train!", he began.  "I haven't had a nice
young tender boy like this for a long time.... It will
be a pleasure to start to build him up - but he looks
a bit feisty to me.... So what's his job to be?  If
he's going to work in the palace I can't use the whip
as the scars on his back are always there
afterwards....."

"Listen, Winston, this is my boy...."

"You sly dog, Steve!  Picking the sweetest meat for
yourself!  So you want his body nice and hard, so he's
good to touch, but not damaged..... And do you want me
to stretch him a bit, so that he's more than ready for
you....?"  As he said this, Winston reached under his
loincloth and stroked his cock suggestively.

"No!  Absolutely not!  Look, he isn't my 'boy' like
that... He's my son!"

Winston's big black hand gripped Jamie's shoulder and
he held the boy away from him a little.  "Hey,
Steve.... Well done!  I can see the family likeness
now....."  He pulled Jamie's tunic up, and went on
"Yes, he certainly is like you - same nice long cock,
well hung....."

Jamie wriggled, trying to get free, and was blushing
furiously.

"Look, Winston, the Sheikh has said that Jamie has to
be properly built up.  As you can see, he's always
taken care of himself as he's a strong young man....
But he needs that additional hard work that only you
know how to give.  I'm running him in the morning, so
that ought to take care of his legs and thighs, but
it's his upper body.....  And I don't want him
whipped, or even caned.... He's used to working out,
and if you just show him the equipment, and guide him
on the reps and so on...."

"It won't work, Steve!  You know that.  Our owner's
always in a hurry, and if I'm not allowed to punish
the boy, there's no incentive for him to put 101% of
his effort  in to it.  We're not training for some
college football team here, you know:  this is serious
stuff, turning out bodies that will please our
owner...."

"No whips, no canes!  And no cock either, Winston."

"Aw, Steve.  Come on.... A boy like this, with your
features, and a good body.... You know what our owner
wants to do with him.  Better to get him used to it
now, get him stretched a bit, get him to understand
that there's always pain when a cock first goes in,
but that you can learn to take it, learn to enjoy it,
turn the pain into pleasure.... Who better to do it
than me?"

"Dad, what's he going on about?", Jamie cut in.

"Don't worry, son....", and then I snapped at Winston
"Let's be clear about this:  no whip, no cane, and no
cock!  The boy's willing, and he'll work just as hard
as he's able."

I had a lot to get through that day, though, so as
much as I'd have liked to stay and make sure all went
well with Jamie, I could not afford the time.  So I
slapped Jamie affectionately on the shoulder and said
"See you tonight, son - come back to my room when
Winston here says you're free to go", then  I looked
at Winston again and added "....and take good care of
him, Winston!  You understand?"

"Sure, Steve. Don't worry.  I'm used to 'bring on'
young guys like this.... Don't worry... No harm will
come to him."

"It had better not, Winston...." I finished, and
strode off.  It was one of the hardest things I'd
done, as I knew something of the training methods
Winston used on the slaves, and I was seriously
concerned about the effects on Jamie.  But there was
nothing else I could do about it -  the Sheikh had
ordered Jamie to be toned up, and Winston was the guy
who did that.

I have to say though that I was worried all afternoon
about Jamie, and that made me cross and irritable and
several of the coffles and departments I visited got
the sharp end of my tongue, and had punishment orders
made out against them.  Jason got it, too - in my
hurry to get around all the places I had to go, I was
more than usually vigorous in my use of the carriage
whip to '"encourage" him, and at one point he turned
around as he was racing along and shouted "Stop it,
Steve, I'm going as fast as I can...."

Well, that's what you get, I suppose, when the guy
who's in charge of the place has been made a slave, as
I had:  previously I'd never have allowed Jason to
shout out like that, and he'd have known that if he
had dared to do so, he'd have felt the punishment cane
later in the day.  Still, he was right, I knew - I was
being a bit unfair to him, so I did tone down my use
of the whip just a little.

My day got worse, though, as one of the visits I had
to make was to the Sheikh's nephew in the old harem,
and of course the moment I went in I had to put up
with his complaints and his sneering at me as a slave.
 Then I had to strip off so he could "inspect" me -
and you probably don't realise just how utterly
humiliating it is to have another man running his
hands over your whole body as he examines you like
that (yes, I know it's really sensual when a lover
does it, but when it's someone who is appraising you
as if you were an animal, it's different).  And, of
course, once he'd done that, once he'd felt my thighs,
ran his sweaty palms all over my flat belly, tweaked
my nipples, and then stroked me to an erection, he
wanted sex.  And if being force fucked by a guy isn't
bad enough, the bastard managed to make it even worse
for me in that his routine was to require me to jerk
off first - but not discretely, privately:  oh no!  As
he sprawled on one of the silken divans, I had to
kneel in front of him with my knees wide apart so that
my tackle had maximum exposure.  Then he liked me to
have a straight back, with my butt resting on my heels
as I knelt there, and then to begin to jerk off as he
watched.  He was very particular that I was to keep
looking at him, and not at my dick as I worked away,
so I could see him sneering at my efforts;  and I had
to position one hand under the end of my dick so that
when I did shoot, all of it was caught.  The second
part of the whole humiliating process could then
begin, on his command:  I had to turn around so that
my ass was facing him, press my forehead down to the
ground so my ass was raised up, then reach back
between my spread legs and lube myself with my cum!
It was so fucking humiliating to know that he was
watching as my finger slid in and out of my asshole,
sliming it with my own cum.

He never bothered to speak to me as he then shed his
robe, knelt behind me, shuffled forwards so that I
could feel his hot skin against mine, and fucked me.
Not one word.  It wasn't a gentle fuck.  He didn't
play with my body or press his cock head against my
sphincter and ease himself in - it was just a brutal,
hard, thrust that made me cry out as much as I tried
not to. He didn't care if it hurt, he wasn't concerned
if I was enjoying it, it didn't matter - I was a
slave, and my whole body was there for his enjoyment.
And when he'd finished - today he withdrew before he'd
shot his load so that he could stroke himself to a
final climax and shoot his cum all along my back as I
continued to kneel there - he totally ignored me.  No
kind words, not a joke, not a thank you:  nothing.

I wasn't allowed to stay in the harem and shower
afterwards - he just dismissed me curtly, ordering me
to be back the following day - and I had to stumble
out naked into the corridor, and then pull my clothes
on over my sweat and cum-soaked skin in front of the
passing slaves, as they tried to hide their laughter.
It was horrible, as for the rest of the day the smell
of my own body and his cum kept coming to me, and it
made me in such a bad mood that poor Jason got more
than he deserved again.

Jason was bitterly disappointed, too, when I dismissed
him at the door of the palace and told him to sleep in
the stables with the other ponies that night, and when
he started to protest, I was really curt with him,
snapping "Shut the fuck up, Jason!  You're always
complaining that you don't like me fucking you, so
when I give you the opportunity to go and have some
fun with the other ponies, just be grateful, will
you!"

He went to say something else, and I went on "Maybe I
ought to re-introduce the bit!  At least then I
wouldn't have to put up with your whining and
complaining - shut the fuck up, or I'll have you
silenced tomorrow.  And get off to stables, like a
pony should."

It wasn't right of me, I'll admit.  And I felt
particularly bad when I saw the reproachful look on
Jason's face, as if he really did want to spend the
night with me in spite of his usual complaints. But I
was so worried about Jamie, and when I got to my room
and found he wasn't there, I almost rushed out and
over to the training area, to find out what the fuck
was happening.  But it's hard being a manager, being
responsible and in charge - if Winston thought I
didn't trust him, it would only make things worse in
the future. So I threw myself on the bed and lay there
impotently.

When he finally did appear, Jamie looked absolutely
done in!  I've seen guys come off the football field,
off exercises in the marines, and stuff like that, and
you expect to see them really tired and weary.  Jamie
was just like that, only more so.  His whole body was
kind of "slumped", and he just sagged onto the bed,
lying half on, half off it, on his belly, with his
head cradled in his arms.

"Come on, Jamie.... It can't have been as bad as
that...."

"Shut the fuck up, dad!  You don't know....."

"I do, son!  A few months ago I was put through
'training' by Winston.  And I've saved you from the
worst of it...."

"It's your fault, dad, your fault I'm here, that
they're doing all this to me...."

I'd been so worried about him, and hearing this all my
pent-up emotion burst out.  I lost my temper, grabbed
his arm and dragged him to his feet.  Still gripping
him I thrust my face at his and almost screamed
"Listen, I'm doing my best!  You've been brought here,
it was nothing to do with me, and I'm trying to make
the best of it...."

Jamie looked terrified at this outburst, and I knew I
was in the wrong.  I'd been tough on Jason all
afternoon, and now here I was, the same way with
Jamie.  But he shouted "If you'd been a proper father,
one living with mom, none of this would have
happened!"

I released my tight grip on him, intending to say I
was sorry, and pushed him backwards onto the bed.

Jamie fell, then leapt to his feet, shouting.  "My
ass, dad!  That fucking hurts.....!"

We stood close again, so I turned him around and
pulled up his tunic.  His butt was a dark, dark red,
and I was at once furious.  "Jamie, I'm sorry... You
heard me tell Winston not to cane you.... I'll have
him punished tomorrow...."

"He didn't cane me., dad.  It was worse."

"You don't know what you're saying, Jamie.   There's
nothing worse than a caning administered by
Winston.... Well, except a whipping, and he certainly
hasn't done that or you'd be covered  in blood."

"Dad, he grabbed me, threw me across his knees, and
spanked me!"

"With his hands?"

"Yes, with his hands!"

I began to calm down a bit.  "Look, Jamie, a spanking
with the hands isn't all that much of a big deal....
You're sore, I suppose, but there's no permanent
damage...."

"It was disgusting, dad!  Vile...."

"What do you mean?"

Jamie started to blush, his cheeks getting almost as
beetroot a red as his butt. "Come on, son, you can
tell me....", I murmured.

Jamie stood there, as if not knowing what to do, then
sort of mumbled "Well, I was made to do all the stuff
on the machines naked.  I didn't have a scrap of
clothing on.  And when he grabbed me... Well, Winston
only wears that little flimsy loincloth thing, as you
know...."

"Yes, of course I know...."

Jamie's voice was so quiet that I could barely hear
him, as he stammered "So I was naked, across his
lap.... And as he spanked me, I felt it...  I
felt...."

He stopped, looking miserable, and I said quietly "Go
on...."

"I felt his cock, dad.  His cock, was thrusting up,
into my belly, against mine...."

I began to chuckle, and Jamie looked really pissed
off.  "Oh Jamie, Jamie....  Look, it's only natural,
isn't it?  When you're spanking a guy's butt and he's
across your knees, it's only natural to get an
erection, isn't it?  What else did you expect?"

"I don't know, dad!  You fucking tell me!  I've never
spanked anyone, so how the fuck should I know?"  He
stopped for a moment, and went on "I do know it was
disgusting, though!  Having another guy's cock pressed
into me like that.  And.... And....."

"Yes?"

"I ended up covered in pre-cum!  Winston's cock was
leaking pre-cum, and it went all over me...."

Well, I couldn't help laughing, and Jamie just stood
there, glaring at me.  Above my smiles I said "Look,
Jamie, things are different here.  We punish guys who
don't work as had as they could, punish them
physically - and Winston was only doing his job, by
spanking you.  As I said, you're lucky you're my son,
so at least it was only a spanking  Winston usually
likes to 'break in' new guys with a light use of the
cane on the first day, as he says they remember it
more and it makes them work harder afterwards - he
only has to cane them once.  And yes, you were
exercising naked - so what?  You've got nothing to be
ashamed of, have you?  You're very well set up, and
most guys hung like you would be proud of it, not
ashamed.  And it's hot here, remember, so you don't
need clothes to keep warm, and it's better to let the
sweat evaporate off you.  And yes, I expect Winston
did get an erection:  as I said, who wouldn't?
Especially when he's got a nice ass like yours in
front of him.  And when you get an erection, you
expect pre-cum, don't you?  Especially as you said
Winston's cock was rubbing against your body.  It's
only natural that it starts to get ready.... You're
lucky he didn't shoot all over you!"

"Dad, it's not right...."

"Jamie, I don't want to hear any more.  Try to
understand, son, that things are different here.
You've got to get used to men being men here."   As I
said this, I stripped off my clothes (and I knew from
the change in expression on his face that Jamie could
smell the sweat and cum on me), and went into the
shower.

"Come on, Jamie:  come and shower", I called. "You'll
feel better, with Winston washed off you!"

Jamie hovered around outside, but I insisted he got
into the shower with me.  "This is another thing,
Jamie - you've got to learn not to be embarrassed
about showering with other guys."

"I'm not, dad - at school, after the match....  But
you're my dad!"

"...and you're my son.  We've got the same DNA.  So
what's wrong with being in the shower together?"  As I
said this I ran my soapy hands all over Jamie's body,
and that did at least shut him up.

Afterwards, though, when we were in bed, he was still
clinging to the far edge of the bed as if feeling our
skin together was somehow wrong.  And I guessed that
he had difficulty in getting to sleep, as, unlike me,
he hadn't had the opportunity to jerk off that day.
Still, I thought, as I drifted in to sleep, he'll soon
learn - he'll soon learn that a slave has no privacy,
and that the things that men do naturally and mostly
in private are all done publicly here.

______________________________________________


The next two or three weeks followed this same pattern
- I worked hard keeping things running, and got
regularly fucked by the Sheikh's nephew.  I banished
Jason to the stables, in the hope that I could bond
properly with  Jamie, and Jamie spent his mornings
running alongside Jason and then his afternoons
working out with Winston.  All I got for my trouble
was a load of grief!  As if being humiliatingly fucked
by the nephew wasn't bad enough, I found myself
without even the excitement of having Jason to fuck
myself.  And in response to Jamie being in my bed, I
had to become kind of furtive - jerking off before he
came back from his training, or sneaking back during
the day when he was not there.  I never found out what
Jamie did for sex - certainly he was aroused a lot, as
in the middle of the night when his grip on the edge
of the mattress had slipped, he'd often roll against
me in the bed and I'd find my body being "stabbed" by
his rock-hard cock.  The only person who seemed to be
doing OK was Jason - banishing him to the stables was
no big deal for him, as he promptly resumed fucking
the drays.  He was even blatant enough about it in the
mornings when I went out to get into my card that he'd
rub his dick suggestively, and tell me how sore he was
getting from having to use it so much to satisfy the
drays.  I felt like taking the punishment cane to his
ass, to remind him that it ought to be his asshole
that was a little tender from my love making!    I
think that if I hadn't been so preoccupied with
worrying about Jamie I'd perhaps have noticed that
this was all "show" from Jason - he was bragging about
all this sex, as he was hoping to make me feel
jealous.

It couldn't last, of course.  One morning the Sheikh
summoned me to his audience chamber, and started to
question me about the progress that Jamie was making.
I tried to give answers that were both totally
truthful, and yet evasive.  So Jamie was making
"satisfactory" progress; he was "developing his
muscles well", and so on.  I  did not dare lie to the
Sheikh, but, equally, I was desperately trying to
postpone the date at which he would order Jamie to his
bedchamber, to be ravished.  It was silly, really, as
I knew that the best I could hope for was a
postponement - the Sheikh had brought Jamie here to
use as a fuck toy, and there was no power that I
possessed that could ultimately prevent it.  And if
the thought of Jamie having to ride the old man's cock
was not bad enough, I couldn't help worrying what the
future held for him after that:  the Sheikh might
choose to use him as a stud, or perhaps have him
trained as a pony, like Jason, or, or course, and this
was the terrifying prospect:  he could simply give
Jamie as a gift to one of his relations or business
associates.   There would be nothing I could do to
prevent this, and I knew than that I'd probably never
see my son again:  both of us were just pieces of
property, and it was the Sheikh who would dispose of
our future as he pleased, and there was nothing that
could be done about it.

The sheikh ended our conversation by saying, in that
way he has that brooks absolutely no dissent "Well it
sounds as if he is ready - bring him before me, after
I have dined this evening."

I felt sick in my stomach as I heard these words, and
every fibre of my being wanted me to scream "No, I'm
not going to give my son to an old pervert....", but
something held me back.  I knew it was utterly futile:
 once the Sheikh had commanded something, he never
rescinded the order as he thought it made him look
weak.  Were I to argue with him all that would happen
would that I would no longer be his Instrument, just a
common slave, and then whatever small protection I
might be able to offer Jamie would be lost.  So I
meekly assented, and left the audience chamber,
bowing low as usual.

For the rest of the morning my mind was in turmoil.  I
thought about trying to escape, but as you know I'd
outlined to Jamie why this was impossible and I knew
it simply was not worth trying.  I thought about going
back to the Sheikh and asking him, no, begging him, to
leave Jamie alone - but that would not work either:
the Sheikh "knew", knew from a lifetime of having his
way in everything, and from always owning slaves,
totally owning them, that he had a right to use Jamie
in whatever way he wanted.  Indeed, he could probably
not even see why I would be asking - after all, a
slave exists only to serve his owner, and the Sheikh
would naturally assume that Jamie would serve him in
whatever was he was ordered.  After hours of inner
debate and turmoil I decided the only way I could help
Jamie was to make it as easy for him as possible to
take the Sheikh's cock - it was kind of inevitable
that he would be used sooner or later, and now the
time had come, all that was left to be done was to
make it as comfortable for Jamie as possible.

Rather than have a long angry argument with Jamie I
also decided that I would not tell him what was about
to happen to him - he'd know soon enough, and there
was simply no point in having him fret and worry for
the rest of the say about it;  it was going to happen,
whatever he thought or said on the subject, so he
might as well remain in ignorance, I thought.  I did
however decide that his "preparation" should be done
by Winston and the slaves in the training centre,
rather than by handing him over to the domestic slaves
who normally prepared men for the Sheikh's service -
at least in this way he might think it was part of the
training, and so stave off his worry for some time.

I went to see Winston, making sure that the slaves
being exercised did not see me (not all that
difficult, actually, as they needed to remain very
focussed on their exercises if they were to avoid
punishment from the ever-present trainers and
electronic sensors on the machines).  He and I stood
on a balcony looking down on to the training floor,
and Winston, in that comradely way that I so much
disliked, put his massive arm round my shoulders.  "Do
you remember, Steve?  It's hard down there, isn't it?
 Look at all the sweat flying off them, listen to
their shrieks when the electricity cuts in, hear t he
snap of the cane against bare skin.... does your body
still ache when it's reminded of it, Steve?  I enjoyed
training you, you know:  you tried to resist all the
time, tried to let your will override mine, but in the
end it was no use, was it?  You ended up as a
beautifully muscled slave."

As he said this, his massive hand snaked down under
the hem of my polo, and I felt it's sweaty heat on my
belly.  "You're losing it now though, aren't you,
Steve?  I can no longer feel those lovely ridges we
built up here...."

"Stop it, Winston!  Get your fucking hands off me, or
I'll....."

"Or you'll what, Steve?  You're only a slave now,
remember....."

"A Slave who has the ear of the Sheikh, Winston, as
his Instrument!  Now, get your fucking hands off me."
 I shook him clear of me, and then went on, somewhat
calmer "Anyway, I'm not in bad shape - all the time I
spend in the office, you can't expect me to have the
body of a pony or a worker....  There's not a lot of
guys of my age who've got a body like mine...."

Winston began to laugh.  "Oh, Steve, that's so fucking
typical of you.  You're still proud, still trying to
control things....  Most slaves, if they were proper
slaves, would say something like 'My body pleases my
owner, and that is all that is required'.  But you -
no, you have your own views on it, don't you...?"

"Look, cut this crap, Winston.  I'm not here to
discuss me, but Jamie."

"A real chip off the old block, he is, Steve!  Just
like you - every day he comes here, and every day you
can tell from the way that he does it that he resents
having to strip off that tunic and allow me to inspect
him.  And then all the time he's exercising, he's
always trying to 'beat' the machines, just like you:
it's hard enough just to keep up with them, but that's
not enough for him - no, he wants to be in control.
Still, that's good - he's always working that bit
harder, always pushing the limits, and he's really
come on.... Look...."


Winston and I peered over the edge of the balcony and
observed Jamie as he worked away.  Of course I was
used to seeing him naked in our room at night, but the
sight of a very athletic, toned, well muscled young
guy engaged in hard physical effort is something else!
 In spite of him being my son, I couldn't help feeling
my cock stir at the sheer eroticism of it - his superb
buttocks thrashing away, his cock bouncing up and
down, and the sheer perfection of his taut body in all
its naked glory, together made a stunning sight.

"You've done well, as usual, Winston", I muttered.
"But I think Jamie's training is over.  He is ordered
to appear before the Sheikh tonight...."

"Lucky man!", Winston exclaimed.  "I wish I'd been
born a master, so I could command such a perfect
specimen to make himself available to me...."

"I'm worried though, Winston.... The boy's not
experienced another man before...."

"He's no boy, Steve!  He's sixteen, isn't he?  And
look at his physique... I'd say he was a man, a real
man, if ever I saw one.  And a man like that - well,
the sooner he gets to understand just how much fun sex
can be, the better!   Once our owner has tired of him
I wouldn't mind having a proper session with a man
built like that myself - especially one as well hung
as he is.... Another way in which he takes after you,
Steve!  I could do some more training, I could teach
him things about how a body can get the most enjoyment
from another man...."

"You will do no such thing, Winston!  Now, I
need....."

I gasped and almost fell over as Winston's hard elbow
dug into my ribs.  "Oh you're a sly one, Steve!  So
you're going to do all that yourself, are you?  Keep
this delicious piece of manflesh for yourself?  I
always thought that you and that Jason had a thing
going, but I suppose the thought of a really young guy
like that, especially when he's your son....."

"Don't be so fucking disgusting, Winston.... He's my
son, as you said....."

"...and who better to teach a man the finer points of
sex than his father?  Before I was brought here, in my
tribe it was always a man's older relatives who taught
him the facts of life...."

"Yes, we do that, too.... The facts, but not the
practice!"

"Then you whiteys are even more stupid that I thought.
 There is no point in teaching a man the facts about
sex - he needs to be shown, to have another loving man
take his body and instruct it in the manly arts,
in...."

"Shut the fuck up, Winston!  I don't care what you
niggas used to do in the jungle!  I'm a civilised guy,
and we don't do that."

"Well, more fool you.   I think that the mark of
civilisation is when men can deal with each other as
equals, when one man can admire the body of another,
can take a younger one to a quiet place and instruct
him in how to use his body for maximum pleasure,
to...."

"Look, I told you to shut the fuck up!  Now, this is
serious:  he'd better stop exercising now, as it's
going to be tough enough for him tonight as it is, and
I don't want him in that totally exhausted state he's
usually in when he leaves here."

Winston nodded.  "....and I want you and the slaves
here to prepare him:  make like it's part of the
normal exercise routine, or something, so he doesn't
get worried - I don't want to turn him over to the
normal palace slaves, but he needs all that stuff done
that the Sheikh likes:  after he's showered, make sure
his balls are shaved smooth, trim his pubes - they're
getting a bit unruly since he was last trimmed, when
he arrived -  and whilst you're at it, I guess you'd
better shave down his ass crack, and around his
hole....."

Winston nodded again.  "And make sure none of you says
anything about this, OK?  It's just 'routine'.  And
absolutely no fucking him, of course.  Then, when
you're done, a nice massage, rub lots of slave oil in
good and deep so he's got a nice sheen."

"There is one thing, Steve.... One thing that the
palace slaves do.... You probably remember...."

Winston saw me looking puzzled, and added "...and
shall we make sure he's clean inside, too?  I seem to
remember that the Sheikh likes to be cleaned up
afterwards, and...."

"No!  I hate all that enema stuff, and I don't want
that for Jamie."

"So you'd rather he tasted his own shit, as he licks
the Sheikh's prick clean?"

I felt myself crumple.  The awful realisation of what
was going to happen to Jamie was finally striking home
to me.  And I felt utterly powerless to do anything
about it.

As I turned to leave, I finally muttered "Yes, I
suppose he'd better be flushed out, too."

End Of Part Seventeen