Date: Mon, 10 Sep 2018 16:45:17 -0500 From: Bruce Turner Subject: 2088 chapter 7 2088 Chapter 7 If you are this far into the story you must me enjoying it. I am still enjoying the writing so I promise it will have more chapters. Now remember if you are not of a legal age to read about gay sex go elsewhere, I think Putin has published a few papers. I hope those of you that are able to contribute to Nifty do so. The site is run on volunteer contributions. 2088 Chapter 7 Mehmet had one of our guards take Ahmed home with the promise that they would do more than talk later. It was late afternoon by the time we had the hair removal treatment. I expected that to be something like I had heard about in the states where a portion of the body would be done and we would return repeatedly to be finalized. It wasn't like that, there was another of the Dr.'s weird machines, I stepped into it, was told to spread my legs as wide as I could, the top of the machine was fit around my neck, behind my ears and in place over my nose. I was glad to understand that my eyebrows and lashes were not being affected. I set my hand on a pair of handles told to relax, close my eyes and suddenly I saw a red flash and Hamid was unhooking me from the machine. Mehmet went through the same procedure, it took ten minutes to get into the machine and less than ten seconds for the actual procedure, He dressed, I was given the Lucheros mask that Mehmet had used earlier, put back in the cock ring and we left the building on foot. It was the first time that Mehmet and I had walked side by side since he purchased me., I was uneasy. He fell back into the easy conversation we had been having in the waiting room. You would not have thought that I had just fucked his teen aged virgin brother. "We are in what is called Twenty-Second Century City." Everyone I saw walking on the sidewalks had at least one slave on a leash. There weren't many cars but those I saw were luxury models from Europe. There was a luxury bus that seemed to troll the street every fifteen minutes. "Twenty-Second Century City is not adjacent to any other of our cities When the laws were changed to allow Kuwaiti men to buy American slaves five sheikhs and my father decided that if they were to finance a small city away from the major cities that there would be less unrest caused by the religious conservatives. It was decided that the city would be built on the opposite side of a military base to avoid accidental incursion by those citizens without slaves or that are opposed to the idea. For the most part it has worked although there have been two or three incidents of bashing since the city was finished. "I am thinking that I should move here. Most of the houses are too small for what I want but we shall see if we can find a house that will work as a palace extension or one that can be remodeled to work. One of the reasons the Agency hired me was that my father had a traditional palace that would not inflame passions when I held meetings that could be classified as social instead of business on the books although actually being business related." "Mett, may I speak?" "You may speak until we reenter the Hummers." "The five hours in the Doctor's office left me parched, will you get me something to drink?" At the palace I was not permitted to ask for anything but I was beginning to feel like a drink was essential to me walking "I hadn't thought of that. Are you hungry, also?" I was somewhat surprised by his solicitousness. He was actually looking at me to respond. "Mett, I could eat something. Do they have American food in the city?" I had been surviving on traditional meals and dearly wanted either a hamburger or steak. "We made sure there was many ethnic foods here when in the planning stage of the city. It wasn't until we had the first slaves walking the streets that we learned that there were no restaurants that served what the slaves really were longing for. "The Agency opened what you might call a traditional diner. It is not far, so if you can wait about three blocks I will take you there." I don't know what have happened if I had said that I couldn't wait. Not denying my Master had been one of the first lessons, it didn't happen and if it did you were liable to be beaten. I still hoped that I might escape or be rescued by my family but I was not foolish enough to provoke my Master. "Mett, this is perfect if the food is any good. I want a cheeseburger and fries. A vanilla milkshake and a glass of water." The Agency restaurant reminded me of a diner that had been about two miles from my parent's home and had been in the same spot for more than fifty years. Looking around the diner I was surprised that every Kuwaiti was accompanied by at least one slave. Some of them wear wearing some clothing, one or two American jeans and T-shirts, a few with loincloths, some in dishdasha but mostly completely naked. I was the only one in a mask. "Mett, do you know any of the Kuwaiti men in here?" "I know most of them. If only slightly for some, a few I have known since I was first entered into school." "Why doesn't anyone speak to you?" "That would be better discussed somewhere else." He had warned me before we entered that the Agency eavesdropped on every conversation in the diner. "Ali, how are you coming along in your sex classes. I know you are a Hell of a fuck hole but I have yet to hear that you give a good blow job." The look on his face was one of lust, was it all the naked boys in the diner or was it having watched me fuck his brother. "Mett, you have not permitted any of the trainers or other slave trainees to touch me so how can any one give you a report? Angelo took me aside and taught me how to suck my own dick, it felt good. Am I ready to suck yours? Maybe." I had already started to slide under the table. I hoped it was what Met was wanting. I only had to open four buttons before I was close enough to see that my Master was erect and waiting. I looked at his cock wondering if I could take it all then thought about taking all of my own and knew that I would be able to do this. That first inch amazed me, he tasted so much different than I do, I loved it. For a few minutes I worked the head of his cock with my tongue and lips, I heard a few light moans. I cleared my throat twice and dove down hard. My forehead hit his stomach or I would have engulfed his whole cock, nothing was going to stop me from having it. I pulled his butt to the edge of the booth and forced myself the rest of the way down. He was loving what I was doing. I knew it from the moans and groans he was making. I hoped the people running the diner wouldn't be unhappy with us, I could see some of the diners were watching with smiles and hard cocks. I saw the waiter standing at the end of the table and Mett's hand was on the top of my head forcing me down as far as possible. His load of cum went down my throat. I think my throat worked his head a little then he started to pull away. I caught two drops of cum, I could have made a lunch of his cum it was so much better tasting than my own. I was resisting Mett as he tried pulling me away. "Your lunch is served." I couldn't believe the waiter was talking to me while I was still under the table but it must not have been that extraordinary when his customers all had slaves. I couldn't force myself out from under the table as long as I was able to squeeze drops of cum up my Master's shaft. If that was what cum was like what was it going to be like the first time I got to have an entire load in my mouth or swallowed his piss? "If that was the kind of blow job you gave yourself the other night in front of my guests I wonder why you haven't been giving yourself more of them?" "Mett, I have to so that I stay limber." Plus I was horny so often after he fucked me that unless I sucked my dick I had sore balls. "Ali, you are permitted to give yourself blow jobs anytime. I would prefer if I was able to watch but it you have a load you need to dump I expect it to go in your mouth, unless you figure out a way to fuck yourself." "I'll leave that to you, Mett." Of course I had heard people say go fuck yourself but could anyone actually do that? I'd have to ask Angelo, he'd know. "Have you looked around the diner to see how many different ways slaves are treated?" he took a bite out of his meal. "Have you seen any slaves you knew in your past?" I had been looking, thinking that while the University was huge there was a chance I'd know someone. "I did know the boys eating from the plates on the floor. They look like brothers, but are really cousins. I was supposed to be their counselor this last year, in four months I had only spoken to the one on the right twice and the other one three times. They were both having trouble with the university and were thinking about dropping out after one year in school if they didn't flunk out first." Thinking about the sessions I'd had with the cousins I wasn't surprised they were so calm being treating like dogs, there had been something extremely passive about them. "There isn't anyone that you were good friends with?" "I studied constantly so I didn't have time to make many friends with my fellow students. My Junior year I did work 15 hours a week at the library and became acquainted with a few other students but most of them graduated and left Ohio as soon as possible. There are two of my fellow students in Camp (50), they had returned for the big football game. There is also a couple guys I knew from the Olympics team." I could have told him that Jones and his friend both lived in the same house I had but I didn't think he should know. "That's right, the long jumper is in camp with you. I have had a couple unsolicited bids on him, I think there are more than a few of my countrymen that are hoping that he will become a strong fucker. He is hung well and has the leg muscles." I could see a calculator whirling as he spoke about the Long-jumper. "You sell slaves as well as buy them?" "We invested in quite a few slaves with the hope that we will be able to sell them. Once trained there are buyers through out the region that would enjoy having our white boys. You don't need to worry about being sold, I paid so much for you that there will never be a profit to be made on your ass." That was relief although I had never thought about him selling me. "Slavery is so new here that your country men haven't quite decided how they are going to treat us, have they?" I felt like I was moving into inappropriate territory but was curious. "I think everyone has a fantasy how they would treat one slave, but after that they really don't have a strong idea. That is why many of the slaves I'll sell will be leaving the country. We are a small country with a small population of people that can afford to have slaves, especially sex slaves." There are some African countries that allow slavery but haven't lent money to the USA so they will not be included in the tithings. "There are some of my country men that are taking the chance that they will be able to afford slaves if they increase the production on their family farms. I wish them luck. I did see some of the oldest boys from the auction already at work tending camels. The slaves on the oil fields, derricks in the gulf and at the gravel pits need special training but we should start seeing them at work very soon." He sounded very self-satisfied. "Did you buy them also?" "No, maybe the second or third time around. Right now the 80 sex slaves I bought are as much as my personal servants can train. The family bought another 120 labor slaves that my father intends to have working in the gravel pits by next week." "Will all the sex slaves be sold to pleasure men?" "I have already had inquiries about a few slaves to serve women. How that is going to work out I don't know. I think the law was specifically written to allow men to own the new slaves but I'm sure a brother, father or husband could be the owner." I looked at Mett closely, I was glad that I wasn't being trained to service women. "The diner is a safe space within the Twenty-Second Century City. It is the only place outside of an owner's house where slaves are allowed to speak to each other. That doesn't mean an owner wouldn't break up a conversation that went for more than a few utterances but saying hello and inquiring about one's health are permitted." I suppose he was trying to make me feel comfortable, but I couldn't have been much more so after sucking his dick. "Jones is sitting at a table by the host's stand. May I speak to him?" I didn't have any real reason to speak to Jones but the idea that I could communicate with a fellow slave was intoxicating. I did wonder how he was out of the camp, he had weeks to go. "No, avoid him. Take a walk to the restroom the long way around. See if there are any other slaves here you know or knew. Not anyone that is in Camp (50)." Mett had taken my napkin and brushed crumbs off my butt cheeks. Before I was able to walk away he stroked my cock getting me fully erect. "Give them something to look at, but not to touch." I understood that I was off limits just as I was when in camp. I guess that is part of slavery that I will need to become accustomed to, I would never have thought touch would be something I would miss. There were not only slaves that seemed to be lusting after my cock but slave owners that asked who my owner was. I had never felt sexier, at least forty men or slaves had made motions that let me know I was wanted. I was glad to reach the restroom and able to lock myself in a cubicle, when I walked out I had to push my way to a sink and fight to keep hands from groping my cock or ass. Mett was standing outside the restroom and lead me across the diner floor by the cock ring leash; after the rest room I was pleased to be attached to him. "Mett, why do those slaves eating off the floor have tails in their butts?" I had been watching the pair while Mett and I ate but hadn't noticed the tails. Roddy had a thin almost hairless tail and Willie had a tail that looked like it had be chopped off a Collie. "Those slaves. I imaging their owner has gotten tired of them and turned them over to his kennel. It is common for slaves that are dog bitches to wear tails in public. If another person wants to enjoy a show they can address the owner assured the slaves take dog dick." Mett was leading me through a group of men and their slaves waiting to enter the diner. "Chuckles?" I hadn't seen the boy since I was in my early teens. He still had the mass of curly, blond hair that made him stand out from the crowd, it had always looked as if the sun was behind him giving him a shiny halo. He was dressed the same as he had been the day I had stood beside him and pissed, a pair of super-hero underpants. Thinking back to that camp out I began to understand that my desire to have sex with another boy had already been formed, I had struggled not to reach out to him and hold his cock while he pissed. Thirteen years earlier he had been a cutie that attracted a lot of attention from guys and girls. That one morning was the only time I had seen him without his shorts, most of us ran around shirtless so I had seen his chest and bare back for three days. Chuckles went to a different school so I had never seen him after we returned home. Never seeing him in person didn't stop me from pulling up his imagine on days I was feeling alone. I had a photo of all the boys that had gone camping that Labor Day, now I understand why I dragged it to the university with me. I ran my hands over every part of him I could reach, particularly his butt. His owner allowed him to greet my and then hug me. I didn't know whether it was permitted or Mett would be upset but while Chuckles hugged me I squeezed a butt cheek making me think of what I missed all those years earlier, I forced a finger into his crack. Mett spoke with Chuckles owner for a few minutes allowing us to remain in physical contact although neither of us had much to say. I was happy to see that he had developed into a beautiful example of boyhood, I say that because he is three years younger than me and looks at least three years younger than his age. My cock was talking between us, there was no doubt that I wanted to do something with him and he knew that, too. His cock was only about four or five inches long although completely hard. Chuckles obviously didn't know that touching my cock was off limits as he stroked me vigorously, damn I would have liked to turned him around and fuck him right there but I stayed where we were so he wouldn't be seen. "Camp (50)." I felt the leash attached to the cock ring tighten up. I untangled myself from Chuckles' arms, unwillingly, and stepped to my Master's side. I was presented to Chuckles' owner, he was the Realtor Mett had planned on using to find what would be our home. Rather than leave we joined the pair as they were called to a table to eat. I didn't pay much attention to what was being said, Chuckles was diverting my mind with his foot. His toes seemed prehensile as he played with my cock and balls, that was so different than anything I had ever experienced that I almost shot a load of cum before they had ordered their meal. Mett had looked down to see what was happening. I heard rather than saw a smirk. Still looking at the Realtor he reached over and took Chuckles' foot off my cock and stuck it under his dishdasha. I felt like he had stolen something from me until I heard him ask about buying Chuckles. Maybe Chuckles didn't speak Farsi and didn't understand that Mett was going to walk out of the diner with both of us or hoped that was what was going to happen. The expression on Chuckles' face didn't change from the first instance when his foot was moved, he had tried to get the other foot up but that stretched him too much. "No, Prince, he didn't have any training. He was a natural cock sucker." The Realtor was rightfully proud of his slave, Chuckles is one of the more beautiful boys that I had seen since I had been in Kuwait. I so wanted to kiss him. "Is that all that he does?" "You know that he gives a good foot job." Mett seemed to change his expression a little at being called out but he didn't stop his questioning. "Have you trained him to be your personal servant?" "He is not fully trained, yet. I have an older personal servant that resents being replaced and is dragging his feet in training Jamaal." The Realtor looked like he was in love with Chuckles but I doubted that my Master would allow feelings to get in the way of a deal. "Is getting blow jobs all that you wish, friend?" "Of course not, I have another slave at home that I fuck but I wish I had one slave that was good at both. Someone like your Angelo." Was he hinting a trade? "Well, Angelo will be with my family until he dies. I have a premier training camp that might have a boy you want, they are all blond and similar to this slave but better trained. The training includes Farsi and Islam." Okay down play the value of the slave you are trying to purchase. "I've heard of the camp. One of my clients told me of an Olympic gymnast that has mastered giving himself a blow job. The slaves aren't usually taught that until after the trainers are certain that he is mastering the basics of sucking and fucking, correct?" I knew that Mett did not want to sell Robbie but was this the reason? Could he have had plans on trading him? "Correct, he came to us knowing how to suck and to both fuck and get fucked. He has been refining his skills while learning his other lessons. Graduation for all the slaves will be sucking their own cock, a couple inches they pass, more of their shaft and they get a higher slave grade, lick their balls while sucking Prime Grade A, if they can get to their assholes with nose or tongue they sell as Prime Grade A-One. At this point in their training we have three in addition to Ali that can suck their own cock, he is the only one that can lick his balls at the same time." I was proud that Mett had mentioned my accomplishment but I was also embarrassed for that to be know by everyone standing around us as they had stopped talking while Mett described the different grades of slave. "Was he one of the slaves that you over paid for?" He could have been talking about me as easily as he was asking about the gymnast. "I didn't over pay for any of the slaves. I paid what I believe they will provide in satisfaction. I have only been wrong with one. I think he will end up sold to a kennel. "Has Jamaal been introduced to your goats or dogs?" They had me at a loss. Mett had told me that the boys on the floor had been turned over to dogs but was he suggesting that he wanted Jamaal to have the experience of being fucked by the dogs or goats? Or was it supposed to be the other way around? Would I still want to fuck him if he'd taken a dog or goat? Or was this a way to insult the Realtor without really doing it? "I haven't become that bored with him as of yet, but if that is a requirement for a deal we can do that when we leave here. I have a dog at my house that is trained to fuck boy ass." Chuckles looked like he was ready to panic, he was sure to have seen the dog that was being spoke of. I'm sure I would have, too, if they were talking about me being bred by a dog or goat. I was thinking hard if I had heard either animal around the palace, there was a guard dog. The deal was made. Jamaal left the diner with us. The Realtor would be by Camp (50) the next day to select the slave he wanted, anyone other than the long jumper. Mett took the leash that was snapped to Jamaal's collar and we left the diner. Mett had told me that only new slaves were on leashes, by the time they were fully trained there was no need. "Take this leash." What? Why was Mett handing me a leash, I had never handled a slave. "I will have the papers drawn up tomorrow, Jamaal will then belong to you. You will need to have a personal slave like Angelo." I nearly fainted. Whether it was walking out into the heat or the idea that Mett was giving me such an expensive present I couldn't say. I had thought that being a slave would mean that I never owned anything, again. "I'll be able to do what I want with Jamaal?" My cock was hard at the thought that once we were home I was going to fuck him. "You'll be able to do what you want as long as you are not needed to be serving my needs. My needs will always come first. If you forget that I may forget that I said I will never sell you. Right now I want your ass, we'll have to rent one of the service cubicles.." Someone had left one of them open across from the diner, I had seen that there wasn't much there other than a padded bench that looked like a saw horse, a urinal and a floor pad that could be moved around in the six by six space. The cubicle looked like a good alternative to 'by the hour motels'. I saw Mett putting in his Credit disk, select a time and a lubricant before opening the door to the next one that had been properly cleaned and ushering us in.