Date: Sun, 31 Aug 2008 21:56:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Instrument, part eighteen

THE INSTRUMENT

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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


Part Eighteen


I have to confess I was in a foul mood for the rest of the afternoon.  I
was used to being in control, to taking charge of matters.... And now, in a
thing that was really important to me, I was utterly powerless.  Jamie, my
son, was going to be fucked, fucked against his will, and there was not one
blind thing I could do about it.  And when I'm in a foul mood, it was poor
Jason who as usual suffered for it as well - even when I knew he was
working as hard as he could, I slashed viciously at his bare buttocks with
my carriage whip, as much to try to relieve the almost unbearable tension
inside me as to have any real hope of making him run faster.  It was as if
I needed to vent my own misery on some other unfortunate.  I was expecting
Jason to really complain when we were finally back after my tour of
inspection - we'd kind of adopted this mode of operation whereby when he
was "working", between the shafts, he never said anything, however badly
provoked
 he was, but once we were "home" and he could step away from my trap, he
could shout and scream at me as one slave to another - especially as one
slave who was in a kind of special relationship with another!  You may
think this was pretty good behaviour from Jason, but, as I sometimes
pointed out in the heat of an argument with him, the alternative was
simple: if he didn't keep quiet when he was working, there was always the
bit with its barbed tongue suppresser waiting to be brought into use.

On this day I was surprised when Jason just stood there, though: I was
expecting a torrent of abuse, and instead, he just looked at me as his big
hands massaged his butt, trying to relieve the stinging that my whip had
caused.  I suppose I felt sorry for him a little, as he vainly tried to
bring his big hands to stroke the parts of his back and shoulders that must
also be hurting him. In fact, his general quietness and composure began to
irritate the hell out of me, and I snapped "You've usually got something to
complain about!  Has the cat got your tongue today, then?"

Jason shrugged his big shoulders, and turned to walk away from me, his
hands still massaging himself as if in silent criticism of my actions.

"Don't walk away from me, you fucking slave!", I snapped.

Jason stopped, turned slowly, and kind of shrugged.  "It's OK, Steve.  If
that's what you want, go ahead...."

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"It's OK, Steve.  You're in a foul mood, OK?  You want a row, you want to
argue, and that's OK.  You've been like it ever since you were in the
palace this morning, and after you visited Winston.  And as usual you took
it out on me.  But it's OK, buddy.... You're obviously worried about
something..... And the sooner you let it all out, the better.  So if you
want to scream and shout at me, if you want to pick a fight, go
ahead... It's OK.  You can hardly hurt me any more than you have been doing
all afternoon - don't you remember how that carriage whip stings?"

"Look, you fucking slave, don't come all that crap with me....."

Jason's face continued to have that kind of half smile he'd had when we
started, and he just shrugged again.  "See?", he said calmly.  "Go ahead,
pick a fight, if you think it will make you feel better.  But I think
you're forgetting that you're a slave too, Steve."

As I looked at him, I really began to envy Jason.  There he was, naked and
unashamed, having finished his day's work.  And now, without a care in the
world he was going in to the stables where he'd have a good shower, be fed,
and then would be chained into his stall - but chained only as a token, for
tradition, as the chain was more than adequately long to allow him to visit
the drays in the next stall.  So his evening would be full of excitement
and fun, the kind that only fit, healthy men can have with each other.  And
then he'd sleep, the deep, untroubled sleep of a man who has had fantastic
sex, and who is untroubled with any worries or cares.  But if he did wake
up in the night, he'd be surrounded with strong fit bodies and, if he
chose, he could take his pleasure again before drifting back to sleep.  For
a man like Jason, being a slave was no problem at all - in fact, compared
to the life he'd probably have as a free man, it was infinitely better:
 no stress, no worries, no money troubles, always food and shelter with no
cares about landlords or bosses, and, of course, as much sex as he
wanted.... As much utterly great sex as he wanted, with other men who were
in similar great physical shape and who also wanted sex.

I thought of Jason, the "typical" slave, and compared him with me.  Sure, I
was a slave, but somehow I had the worst of it: I did have stress and
worries, I did have cares and troubles, I had most of the problems of a
free man, but none of the benefits.  I wasn't even having great sex since
Jamie arrived, as I'd banished Jason to the stables as I didn't want to
"upset" Jamie.  And for what?  My son was going to get fucked anyway - no,
not fucked, raped, more like - he'd be sure to put up a struggle, and then
our owner would have him tied to a fucking horse so he could take his
pleasure of him.

"Look, Jason, I'm sorry...."

He shrugged again.  "It's OK, Steve.  I understand."

"Do you, Jason?"

"Sure!  You've been different since Jamie came.  Very different.  I know
you want to protect him, but there's something else....  I reckon you're
ashamed...."

"NO.  Of course I'm not...."

Jason shrugged again.  "Suit yourself.  But the very first night, instead
of introducing me as your fuck buddy, you tried to hide from Jamie that we
were partners, that we'd been through a lot together, that we had great
sex...."

"Jase, I'm sorry... But You just don't understand.  It's different between
a father and a son."

"How so, Steve?  If you really were my buddy, my real buddy, you wouldn't
be ashamed of telling anyone - even your son - about it.  No, Steve, you're
different, different now since Jamie arrived.  We used to be real buddies,
Steve - you were the only thing that made it really worth living here, and
now......"

"Oh come off it, Jason!  You don't have a bad life.  Every night, all those
drays...."

"It's not the same, Steve!

"I'd have thought it would have been better for you.  You were always
complaining about having to take my cock, and I know how you are with those
drays - you're fucking away like a buck rabbit.  Most men would envy the
way you can have as much sex as you like with men with superb bodies like
that."

"Fuck you, Steve.  As ever, when there's something you don't want to admit
to, you try to justify things and bury everything in a torrent of words.
Just get real, Steve: we had a good thing going, you and me.  And now your
son's here, you've just ditched me, abandoned me totally All you can thing
about is Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.... And it doesn't matter what happens to
me.... No, what happens to us.  I thought we were real buddies, Steve - it
wasn't just the fucking.... All that time we spent together in the stables,
working together in harness.  I introduced you to proper sex, if you
remember.  It was me that made life bearable for you when you were made a
slave.  And after that, I thought our relationship had really grown.  And
now...."

"Jason, it can't be like that.  We're both slaves.  Our owner could sell
either of us at any time, and we'd never see each other ever again.  Two
slaves can't have a 'relationship'....."

"Stop making excuses, Steve!  Sure, the Sheikh could sell us, that's always
the risk of being a slave.  But given that that's so, then we ought to be
making the most of the time we have together.  Think of being sold as like
one of us dying suddenly in a car accident or something - you can't predict
it, you can't avoid it, and there's fucking nothing you can do about it
when it happens.  But until then you have to live your life to the full And
instead of that, you dumped me, Steve."

Jason looked so upset, and he stood there, his body kind of hunched up and
his fists clenching and unclenching as if in anger.  Then he went on "I
thought you liked me, Steve, as much as I liked you.  But instead of that
it seems that you didn't think anything of me at all.  All you wanted was
someone in your bed to fuck, and once you no longer needed that as you had
something else to amuse you, that was it.... Goodbye Jason."

"NO, Jase, it's not like that, honest....."

"Sure it is, Steve.  Cut the bullshit, for once."

"NO!  Jase, look, you and me.... It's true what you say.  That time
together both working as ponies, and in the stables at night.... And
afterwards, when I was restored... I thought we were still a 'team', with
you pulling me, and then at night.....  But you've got to understand, Jase,
that for a father, his son comes first!  I have to do the right thing by
Jamie, and when all that's sorted out, you and me...."

"You are such a stupid fucker sometimes, Steve!  I know you believe you
think everything through and plan and control everything, but you can't see
that this isn't so in this instance.  I don't think you're doing the right
thing by Jamie at all, not by a long way.  You're trying to coddle him and
protect him just as if we were not all slaves here, but it won't work,
Steve... It can't work.  Actually, as Jamie's sixteen, it wouldn't work
anyway even if we were not all here - a guy of that age needs to make his
own way in the world, find things out for himself.  You're like a lot of
parents who think they can run their kids' lives, but you can't.  I reckon
you've not done well by Jamie at all, not in any way...."

"Shut the fuck up, Jason....."

"No, Steve, you listen to me, for once!"  Jason looked really angry now,
and there was no stopping him.  "You try to shield Jamie from the realities
of life here, and it's all about to crash, isn't it?  I've heard all the
rumours flying around: the Sheikh has ordered him to be prepared and
brought to him tonight, hasn't he?  And then Jamie's going to get fucked -
no, raped.  And there's not a blind thing you can do to prevent it.  And
nothing's changed - that was always going to happen - from the moment Jamie
was captured and brought here, you knew what his fate was going to be.  But
instead of preparing him for it, you went on as pretending that everything
was going to be all right...."

"Oh shut up!  You wouldn't have done any better...."

"Oh yes I would, Steve!  That very first night I'd have shown Jamie that
two men like us can really enjoy sex together.  He could have watched you
as you fucked me.... He would have learned that there's nothing to be
ashamed of, nothing to be worry about, in a bout of proper sex.  But oh no
- you were ashamed, weren't you, Steve?  Ashamed of what you and me were
doing together.  So Jamie never learned, and now he's going to have all his
lessons in one horrendous experience tonight.  And ,you know, even if you
hadn't wanted to fuck him yourself, I could have done it - I'd have been
gentle, introduced him to sex properly..... You know I know how to use my
cock, and that it doesn't have to be painful."

"Jase, I couldn't let you fuck my son!"

Why not, Steve?  You fuck me, sometimes I fuck you.  We both fuck the
drays..... From the way you're talking, you'd think there's something wrong
with two guys having sex.  And your stupid prejudice is going to have
terrible consequences for only one person, Steve.... Your precious Jamie!
If you'd let us carry on as we were , you and me together, then Jamie would
be prepared...."

I slumped, as I knew Jason was right.  I really had been stupid to try to
hide what was going on.  And now it was too late.  Jason stood there,
glaring at me, then, seeing my misery, he put his arm around my shoulders.
I felt his warmth, the sweat trickling off his bare skin making my shirt
damp, and I felt utterly wretched.  I had rejected Jason, and I hadn't
realised how much it meant to him.  Because I always thought of him as big
and tough and strong, I never thought he could have feelings.  I knew I
could hurt him physically - in fact, I did, a bit, every time I used the
whip when I was driving him - but I'd simply never thought that I could
hurt him in this way.  And, the more I thought about it, the more I knew he
was right: we could have let Jamie see that it was perfectly normal for two
men like us to enjoy each other, enjoy the sheer sensuality of two bodies
like ours doing what men do.  But instead of that my "shame" had made me
banish
 Jason, had denied that the inevitable was going to happen to Jamie.

I couldn't say anything.  I was crying inside.  I'm not used to failure,
not used to getting things so totally, utterly wrong, and that made thing
even worse for me.  Jason pulled me closer to him, and said quietly "Look,
Steve, I'm sorry, OK?  But someone had to tell you that you fucked up In a
big way.  I just hope that when all this is over, that you and me...."  He
hesitated, and went on, "You know, you and me can get back together...."

"When it's all over, Jase?  When will it ever 'be all over'?  You, me,
Jamie.... All we are is slaves, worthless slaves, not in control of
anything. If the Sheikh decides to have Jamie castrated tonight, after he's
raped him, there's nothing we can do about it.... We're not in charge of
our lives, Jase."

"Aw, come on, Steve.... It isn't as bad as all that!  Look, the Sheikh's
not going to castrate Jamie: he'd be mad to, wouldn't he?  Jamie's got huge
stud potential, and the Sheikh would never spoil a valuable resource like
that.  And, I suppose, Jamie's going to get fucked: but we all get fucked,
sooner or later - it's no big deal, really... The thought of it is a lot
worse than the actual happening, as you and I both know.  And then
everything will be back to normal.... You and me, we can pick up...."

"...until the Sheikh does something that tears us apart, Jason.  It's so
fucking unfair, being a slave...."

"Steve, you seem to forget that if we hadn't both been enslaved we wouldn't
have met each other.  I know I'd never have had such a good time as I was
having recently with you.  My life wasn't exactly great before I was
enslaved, you know: not a lot of money, not a lot of fun.... At least here
I get to really work my body in a way that a man ought to be able to; and
then I'd never had proper sex before.... It was always one night stands
with some slag or other.... And here, with you, it was, well, special...."

"Oh stop apologising for it, Jase!  You can't like being a slave...."

"It's different for you, Steve... You want to be in control of everything,
and slavery's pretty terrible for you, I guess.  But for me, I was just an
ordinary grunt, all I want is a quiet life, with a lot of fun..... And for
me, it's not so bad."

"...but the branding, the rings, whipping, rape...."

"A lot of guys have tattoos and stuff, Steve.  And the carriage whip
doesn't really hurt - sure, it stings at the moment you slash at me, but it
does encourage me to make the most of my muscles.  And as for the rape -
well, sure it hurt the first time.  But if it hadn't happened, I'd never
have discovered the fun from having proper sex.... I reckon it's a small
price to pay."

"But Jamie, Jason.  I've failed him...."

"No you haven't, Steve!  He's sixteen, a man.  And he needs to make his own
way in the world.  A parent can't constantly protect a child, can't go on
making decisions for them.  Sure it's a bit different being a slave, but
what Jamie's facing tonight is no different from what he might face if he
started a new job, or whatever.....  He'll be sore, really sore, I guess.
And angry.  And ashamed.  But he's a tough kid - I've watched him mature
and grow these last few weeks as he's run with us."

"But it's not right, Jason...."

Jason just shrugged.  "What's 'right', Steve?  The reality is that he is
going to experience cock for the first time tonight, and there's not a
thing you or me can do about it.  So the best course is to make sure that
afterwards we help him to see it for what it is....  I reckon that you
should simply point out to him that it's something all men here go through
- kind of a 'rite of passage', no pun intended!  And then we ought to show
him the other side of sex - the kind of proper sex that you and I have,
Steve.  Show him that two men can really enjoy each other...."

"NO, Jason!  I can't fuck you in front of Jamie...."

"See, that's the trouble with you, Steve.  Deep down, you're ashamed of
your own sexuality!"

"No I'm not...."

"Yes, you are!  Look, we're two guys with great bodies, who enjoy sex,
right?  We've had some amazing times together.... And it's not as if we've
ever been inhibited in having other men watch us - think of all those
drays!  So why are you hesitating now?  What have you got to be ashamed of
in showing Jamie just how much fun two guys can have?"

"But he's my son, Jase!"

"So what?  You've both been naked together for weeks now, so what's to stop
you taking the obvious next step?"

"No, Jase, I can't...."

"Well let me, Steve...."

"Let you what?"

"Show Jamie that sex with another guy isn't terrible!"  Jason stopped for a
moment and went on "Look, Steve, you've failed, right, in not preparing
Jamie for what's going to happen?  So tonight he's going to be hurting like
hell, and ashamed.  And then if you try to ignore it, it will make Jamie
think there's something to be ashamed of, something's that he's done that's
wrong, or shameful....  But if you let me be with him when the Sheikh has
finished with him.... Well, I can show him what sex is really all about.  I
can be gentle, you know, Steve.... Not that you give me much of a chance."

"You want me to agree to let you fuck my son?  Oh, come on, Jase....."

"Not necessarily!  I guess his hole will be too sore for him to enjoy being
fucked again.  But there's lots of other things we can do.... You know
that!  And just being with him, having another body wrapped around him,
having my hands teasing him and causing him pleasure.... Well, that has to
be better than having him lying next to you, both of you not wanting to
talk about it, doesn't it?  And, who knows.... If he's really as much like
you as he seems to be, once he's learned that a cock can go up an asshole,
he might even fuck me!"  Jason grinned as he said this, and I didn't know
if he was being serious or not.  Of course I fucked him, most of the time,
but I always sensed that Jason didn't really want to bottom for me, and
certainly with the drays there was never any doubt that Jason always topped
those niggas.  So I wasn't sure if he was serious or not - but, on the
other hand, I suppose I trusted Jason to do the right thing.  And what
other
 choices did I have?

_______________________________________________


I kept hoping that something would happen that would make it impossible for
the Sheikh to have his pleasure that evening - a sandstorm, some sort of
insurrection, war breaking out, anything, But of course it's not like that
in the real world, is it?  When there's something terrible going to happen,
there's no major act like that ever takes place "conveniently" to prevent
it, is there?  And I also hoped that something would happen to make it
impossible for me to be there - perhaps I'd fall over and break a leg, or
worse....  It was bad enough that Jamie was going to be raped, but that I
should have to be there witnessing it - and not just witnessing it,
probably: after all, as the Instrument, I normally ran these things!  But
again, nothing happened and by late afternoon I was in my room, when Jamie
came in.  He pulled off his slave tunic, completely unashamedly, and stood
in front of the mirror looking at his body, flexing his muscles in obvious
 pleasure as he did so and clearly unconcerned about me watching him.

I have to say he looked stunning!  The weeks of exercise and proper diet
has pushed his body from being that of a well-build teenager to that of a
proper man - a young man, admittedly, one on the verge of his full
maturity, but showing all the signs of totally virile masculinity.  Without
being overdeveloped, all his muscles were defined, and the dark tan he had
acquired, covering every square centimetre of him, made them look
especially desirable.  Winston's men had done a fantastic job on him, too:
I could tell that his hair had been freshly trimmed, as had his pubes, and
they must have spend hours shaving him as there was not a trace of the
"five o'clock shadow" on his chin that both he and I usually had - I
guessed his sac and crack would be in that same pristine smooth condition,
too.  He positively glowed with health, and this was enhanced by the faint
sheen that only slave oil, massaged in to the flesh, can bring.

He grinned at me.  "Hey, dad, that was pretty good this afternoon.  After
I'd exercised, a proper sauna.... And then the guys shaved me with lots of
hot towels.... And I've never had an all-over massage like that
before.... It's pretty neat.  I wonder if Winston'll tell them to do it
again?"

I had to tell him, I thought.  "Jamie", I began.  "There's a reason for all
of this....."

"Yes, Winston said.  He said our owner - it seems funny to use that
expression, doesn't it, dad?  He said our owner likes to see all the new
slaves, and I'm to be presented to him after dinner.  So I guess as he's
the boss man, everyone wants to do a good job...."

"Yes, Jamie, but...."

"...anyway, Dad, I don't mind. I guess I'm pretty well used to being naked
some of the time now, and it's not as if I've got anything to be ashamed
of, is it?"

I found myself surprised, I suppose, to hear Jamie actually speak those
words that I have so often thought about my own body.  But he had to be
told.

"Well, actually, Jamie, it's....."

".... And I reckon that if the Sheikh thinks I look OK, he might let me
start to work.  Perhaps I could work with you, or I'd quite like to drive
one of those drays - it's pretty neat having all those niggas under your
control, although I'm not sure about whipping them.  I know you always tell
me it doesn't really hurt Jason when you slash across his butt or his
shoulders with your whip, dad, but I'm not sure...."

"Jamie, there's....."

"Anyway, who knows.  It would be better to have a proper job than having to
work out all day.  It gets really boring on those exercise machines, and it
makes me feel like that hamster we used to have, running around in its
wheel pointlessly all the time."

I went to start again to tell him that he wasn't going just to be looked
at, but by now the courage that I'd build up to actually have a frank
conversation with him had somehow evaporated, so I shut up.  I felt
terrible, actually - I'm not used to chickening out on things, but somehow
having a conversation about male rape with my sixteen year old was just not
something I could do.  So instead I picked up his slave tunic and tossed it
to him.  "Come on, stop preening and admiring yourself!  We'd better get
going, as the last thing the Sheikh will tolerate is to be kept waiting.
He's got an evil temper, and I know that he doesn't countenance any delay.
It's always better to be an hour early than a minute late, where he's
concerned."

"So we might have to wait around for ages...?"

"Yes, Jamie.  But it's something you'll have to get used to, as a slave.
After all, your time belongs to your owner, and if he doesn't mind wasting
it, why should you care?  There are a lot of slaves here, especially those
on the coffles, who'd love to have an hour with absolutely nothing to
do.... They work so hard, sixteen hours a day, seven days a week.  They'd
think it a luxury to be able to stand and do nothing for even half an
hour."

Jamie jut shrugged, and slipped the tunic over his head.  I saw that
instead of one of the normal "house" tunics, which in themselves are very
tiny, Winston had fitted Jamie out with a "display" tunic: really this is
just a strip of fabric, not very wide, with a hole in the centre for the
head.  It hangs loose down the front and back of the slave, so you get an
exciting view of the whole of the sides of the slave's body.  And it was
cut very short, too: as Jamie started to move, it was hard to avoid seeing
tantalising glimpses of his dick and his butt.  Amazingly, Jamie didn't
seem to care: how he had changed, from that time a few weeks before when he
had been tugging nervously at the hem of his tunic in a vain attempt to
give himself more concealment.  He now almost twirled around in front of
me, as if he was proud of his body.


My estimate of having to wait an hour was optimistic.  Jamie and I had to
stand outside the doors of the Sheikh's chamber for about ninety minutes.
I could see Jamie getting restive and every now and then he tried to say
something to me, and I had to stop him - in the "public" parts of the
palace it was not permitted for slaves to speak, and as there were many of
the Sheikh's personal guards patrolling up and down, I was concerned in
case one of them should choose to punish Jamie if he was seen in
conversation.  So when the huge doors were finally flung open and we went
in, it was, in a way, a relief.

To my surprise, the Sheikh was not alone.  Sitting on the floor at his
feet, his body resting against the sides of the Sheikh's chair, was Marc -
naked as you might expect.  The Sheikh had one hand resting nonchalantly on
Marc's head, and was teasing and playing with his hair in a kind of
absentminded way.  Also there, sitting opposite, was the Sheikh's nephew,
who had therefore been allowed out of his "house arrest", for some reason.

"Ah, Steve", the Sheikh began.  "...and the new slave, your son.  He does
seem to have improved since he was first here.".  His tone changed then,
and he rapped at Jamie "Here, boy, and strip."

Calmly Jamie walked over to the Sheikh and pulled off the cloth that had
been inadequately covering him.  He had to stand close to Marc, and in a
gesture of pure sexuality, one of Marc's feet rubbed up and down Jamie's
calves.  The Sheikh didn't like this, and slapped Marc hard on the face,
causing him to stop.

I suppose I was pleased that Jamie was unafraid of the Sheikh, and seemed
to be almost proud to be standing there displaying his physique.  Without
prompting, and I suppose as he had been taught by Winston, he went to the
"display" position, clasping his hands behind his neck and generally
tightening his body, thrusting his hips forward almost provocatively.  The
Sheikh held out his hand, palm up, and Jamie took a step forward and
shuffled slightly, so that his cock lay in the palm of the Sheikh's hand.

I heard the old man mutter "Excellent... Well trained", almost to himself,
and then his jewelled fingers were caressing Jamie's cock, with the
expected result.  The Sheikh's plump thumb then stroked at Jamie's 'skin,
and when the moist head was revealed, together with a couple of drops of
pre-cum dribbling out of his slit, the old man sighed almost audibly.

"Excellent, Steve.  Truly excellent.  Now, as you did before, unclothe so
that I can make a further comparison between you two."

Reluctantly, and slowly, knowing it was useless to resist, I pulled of my
polo shirt and allowed my shorts to fall to the floor.

End Of Part Eighteen