Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2003 20:58:19 +0100
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Changed Life - Chapter 6 - Gay - Authoritarian

This is the 6th chapter of Part One of a trilogy of
novels of gay sex.

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 is unlawful for you to read where your
live, please leave this webpage now.

Contact points:
eMail: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com
Web: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories

The Changed Life by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 6 -- Nickel

     I brought Yuriy thought to the inner courtyard and
through to a room where he would be staying. I explained
to Cook, who was Filipino that Yuriy was there and would
exercise and swim in the pool and keep the outside area
clean. I also told my own driver that his duties of
cleaning the property when not driving me around were
going to be shared.

     As the property was totally enclosed, I felt quite
safe in leaving Yuriy there. He could quite easily
escape from the property itself, it not being too secure
a location. However, it had been explained to me that
the titanium GPS bracelet on his ankle had two settings
one to limit the wearer to the geographical area of the
Sheikdom, something to do with grid map references, and
secondly, it could be set on-line to limit the wearer to
a designated five mile radius of a specific point within
the Sheikdom. His setting was obviously the first one at
present

     When I got back to his room, I found him naked,
having shed his tight cut-offs.. I took my time to
explain, with a lot of gesticulation, where he could
exercise, the pool where he could swim, and giving him a
brush into his hand, I showed him that I expected him to
sweep around the place. Finally, indicating four o'clock
and pointing a finger then to myself, I made it clear
the hour that I would be back.



     When I got into the office it was almost 11.00. It
was the first time that I got to see Gustav Ahlson
actually excited. From early morning, transfer after
transfer of funds had been streaming in from all around
the globe to a newly opened account by Tariq al-Akhri.
He almost had a seizure when I told him to let me know
when they reached $3 billion.

     I put a call in to London and told the chairman
himself, Charlie Deckam, the good news that we needed to
find a home for funds from a single new client to the
tune of three billion euro. He asked me to repeat the
figure as he thought there was noise on the line. Then
he said, `My God, Jonathan, you're only out there. What?
Four days?'

     There was nothing really different to relate about
the first fortnight at the Villa. Nothing really
different, except that while Yuriy very clearly offered
me his anal virginity on the first night, I would not
take it. That was a pleasure for me to decide when and
where.

     However, I set myself the task of find out as many
of his eighty plus erogenous zones as possibles. The
funniest of all was when I licked between his big and
second toes and he almost fell off the bed with his jump
of pleasure.

     On the one hand having a totally compliant slave is
enjoyable, having one who has something in reserve, like
his anal virginity to be taken at a pleasure or a whim,
is a delight.

     Being only able to use one arm, I took my time with
my good arm in finding his prostate up his tight rectum.
For over half an hour on the first occasion, I kept up a
gentle motion in and out, until the reaction of his own
body took over. His body realised that it was now being
shared with a foreign intruder which was not harm it but
giving it lubricated pleasure.

     Yuriy bucked and groaned and gasped. His head went
almost through the mattress of the bed. His arms came
back to hold the cheeks of his ass even more widely
open.

     My single finger rode him like a bronco in the
rodeo. Not all bucking at all times,  but spirited and
frisky, this human bronco knew that he was being well
and truly saddled and ridden all the way home, even if
it was only his prostate gland.

     Yuriy's ejaculation was hard in a pattern of
eruptions under him. His voice was hoarse. And as his
last spurt came, I too went over the cliffs of desire
and released my warm sperm over the lightly tanned
cheeks of his butt.

     Twice during the first night I awoke and each time
he was also awake looking at me. Each time I just kissed
him on the eyes or forehead and went back to a dreamless
sleep.

     But by seven, I was totally revived. I shaved myself
and but Yuriy helped me shower for the day. He stood
forlorn on the steps of the Villa as I went to work.

     Having returned from the Bank that evening, I went
for a swim and had Yuriy pace me. I am a good swimmer
and but was not really able to swim hard with the
plaster on my arm. He was easily keeping up with me.
Once I tired, I got out and he immediately towelled me
down. I walked into the bedroom, motioning him to follow
me into the ensuite bathroom.

     I decided to shave again, because I thought to
myself that if I was going to do this, I wanted to do it
properly and train in my slave. Yuriy's hand was rock
solid. It gave me the opportunity to look at his face
close up. He had clear Caucasian features, with a touch
of central Asian blood in him.

     When he had finished shaving me, I let the water in
the douche run until it was warm to my fingers. I
motioned Yuriy over and had him grasp the backs of his
knees then inserted the douche nozzle into his rectum
very gently. Ten seconds of water flow and I could hear
a grunt. I pulled out the nozzle and sat him down
quickly on the toilet. There was not much faeces, but to
be on the safe side I did it again and the water was
clear this time.

     Before I bent him over for the third time, I held up
the tube of KY gel and had him put some liberally on my
middle finger. It can be infuriating to have to do
things with only one hand, and not even your good hand
at that. he did not have to be told to bend over, but
did it himself. His anal passage was clenched so drum
tight but I worked my middle finger in, pausing,
inserting, touching, pausing, lubricating. He jerked
when I touched his prostate which was down and to the
left. I did not touch it again.

     Domination takes two forms. That of active
domination of the resisting person and passive
domination of the acquiescing one. Yuriy at the moment
was the latter.

      It was now my whim to take his virginity. So I
ordered him on his hand and knees on the bed, separated
his legs as far as they would go, and put his two hands
in the centre of his back.

     I did not expect on this second occasion any real
anal resistance but in fact there was very little. I was
fully erect and quite hard. When erect, also my pre-cum
is always very generous in its flow. Holding his hands
in the centre of his back in an inverted handshake, I
positioned myself, or rather my cock, directly opposite
his anus and with one firm thrust I was sliding inside
him.

     His hands grasped mine firmly and he moaned a
little, but it was the moan of an unusual feeling of
intrusion, not that of pain. I set up a gentle motion,
never fully coming out, but letting the tightness of the
anal passage and rectum beyond feel the fullness of my
cock's 6 inch circumference and its 7 and a half inch
length.

     I kept this thrusting action up for some minutes and
then the relaxation of Yuriy's anal muscles happened
early on just as I was expecting it. This allow me to
direct all my thrust now down towards the left and soon
I was hitting his prostate each time. His breathing
became ragged at the same time as mine, but I had better
control and he unleashed the pent-up semen in his balls
in five or six gushes which I could feel splatter my
thighs. His cries of pleasure echoed around the room. It
was time for my own climax and I soared to the heights
of pleasure and sexual release.

     I turned Yuriy over and waddled up his body with my
knees on either side of his chest. The heat that was
coming off his sweaty body was awesome, though the room
was not hot. I slipped my still dripping cock, wet with
my own cum and his own anal tastes and the remnants of
the KY into his mouth. He sucked me clean in no time
with his tongue doing a nice little dance under my
frennulum.

     Not bad, I thought to myself. A good act of
submission from a top who was now both my bottom and a
cocksucker and whom I could train for the better. I had
Yuriy spoon up behind me and fell asleep to the
enchanting warmth of his body. I felt that I had
established dominance quickly, efficiently and well.

     Cook took a real shine to Yuriy when each day having
completed his exercises, swim and yard duties, he would
come in perspiring and, though naked, would sit down on
his hunkers on the kitchen floor and start peeling
vegetables.

     I had been slightly worried about Cook, a good
Filipino Catholic and all that he was who went to Mass
each Saturday evening in the Italian Embassy, ostensibly
for their `cultural soirée', but know to all the ex-
patriates for its true purpose.

     However, he and Yuriy got on like a house on fire,
and when vegetables or whatever were done, Yuriy would
wait for his next task assignment. The Villa's kitchen
was never so clear before or after.

     The driver who normally stayed at The Villa during
the day having left me at the Bank also seemed to be
getting on well with Yuriy, and from Cook, I learned
that he was now beginning to go out each morning in his
swimsuit and pace Yuriy in the pool for as long as he
could.

     But each evening Yuriy would be on the steps of the
Villa in the courtyard, waiting like a puppy for his
master to return, and bound down the steps to open the
door of the limousine with a big welcoming smile.

     It was early one morning at The Villa before I left
for the Bank that a call came through from Tokyo, which
was already five hours ahead of Dahra It was Tommy
Elford.

     While we all have a gut feeling for business at the
Bank, there is an old world custom of taking one's time
before getting down to it. I asked how my god-daughter
was, to be told that she was taking to the Japanese like
nothing on earth. She had already, at the age of three,
a boyfriend next door according to herself with whom she
played for hours on end, each speaking English or
Japanese, and apparently understanding, at least
according to herself, everything that she was being
told. We laughed at the simplicity of life for children.

     I asked how Janet was, to be told she was in her
absolute element. The house was being decorated in
traditional Japanese style and Tommy had slyly said to
her that if she was going to do it she should supervise
every last detail of it herself to ensure everything was
both traditional and original. He sounded so totally
relieved and said it would take Janet at least a year to
do, and would cost him more or less half a million. I
had not the heart to ask him a half a million of what,
but presumed being on the Pacific Rim, that he was
talking US dollars.

     However, the true reason for the call was a pleasant
banking shock to me. Tommy told me that the Russians had
discovered just south of the Arctic Circle a deposit of
nickel so large that they were going to guarantee world
users of the metal a fixed price of 70% of the present
price for the next five years.

     Being true secretive Russians, they had kept its
true size secret until production was due to start which
would be just two weeks away and, being south of the
Circle, they were guaranteed at least eight months clear
mining a year on at least two entrances to the deposit.

     Tommy Elford confirmed that the source was
impeccable and had already cost him two Big Macs - our
Bank code for two million euro for payment for
confidential information - and would have to pay the
source a further two Big Macs when the press release was
made.

     `Jonathan,' he said, `I owe your big time. This is
the first instalment. By the way, I can find a home for
half a billion of what you got in last week, if you
can't find an orphanage for it. You take care.' And he
was gone off the line.

     Partners usually paid for Big Macs out of their own
funds. It was not the Bank itself. Tommy had not
mentioned the source, but I remembered that Tommy's
inner circle Russian contacts were always impeccable and
tip top.

     The meaning of the news was simple. If nickel was
going to be constantly cheaper than the going rate, any
nickel producing related firm was going to drop in
market value in the face of an extra supply.

     Checking against the Banks' own database of
corporations world-wide and their subsidiaries plus the
list of sellers on the three principal world metal
markets, I quickly identified twelve major firms in
nickel producing or nickel transport on a variety of
stock exchanges.

     I placed a call to my personal Bank in Georgetown,
Grand Cayman Island and placed twelve sale orders each
for two million dollars on the stock of the twelve firms
to be put done in the name of his Grand Cayman company.

     By midday, I had confirming eMails back on each of
the twelve transactions, which had been immediately
carried out. If the press release did not materialise, I
would have to go back in the market and buying the
shares back to balance his account. Selling short was
always a riskier business than buying long.

     Sipping a midday sugar free soft drink, I then made
what with hindsight was a call undoubtedly inspired by
Fate herself. I called Tariq al-Akhri and asked if he
were free for lunch that very day as I needed to speak
urgently with him.

     `On the recent deposits?'

     `No, nothing like that, Tariq, they are now almost
all securely invested and well invested, if I can say so
myself. This is another matter.'

     We met again at the same hotel in whose outside park
there had been such a furore the last time of their
meeting. I noticed that the previously destroyed bench
had been replaced.

     Tariq enquired about my wrist which had had its
plaster changed and was improving rapidly.

     `And my gift?'

     `He is performing admirably. No problem whatsoever.
Your generosity and the lodgements of your recent
deposits are in a way the reason for my talking to you
today. May I ask do you know if, among your other
investments, you have anything in nickel?'

     And with that, Jonathan left the question in the air
and tackled a serving of Irish Smoked Salmon and brown
bread and butter, as if they were the most important
matter there.

     `Nickel. I am sure that I have some investments in
it somewhere. Let me ask.'

     A glance to the side of the private dining room,
brought one of his managers scurrying to the table.

     `Nickel. What do I have in nickel?'

     `One moment, your Excellency,' the manager said and
moved as if to go away as he tapped on a laptop.

     `Stay here.'

     `Yes, Excellency. Let me see now. $111 million in
various stocks.'

     Looking across at Jonathan, and not knowing what was
in the air, he said, `Do you think I should buy or
sell?'

     `I would advise your Excellency to sell.'

     `How much?'

     `All of it.'

     `When?'

     `Now.'

     Turning to the accounts manager, Tariq said `Sell
the lot today at best' and he dismissed him with a wave
of his hand.

     I could see that Tariq was burning to know the
reason why and so I put him out of his misery and told
him of the Russian find, its production and the
guaranteed fixed price at which it would be offered for
five years.

     Knowing what guaranteed fixed prices could do to a
market, Tariq nodded. `They must have found a mother
lode something to like the gas we have found in Dahra.
Thankfully we have not ever set a fixed price in oil or
gas for more than a year, and never would think of
setting it for five years.'

     Tariq continued `Am I allowed share this information
or is it for me alone?'

     I responded carefully, `A colleague and I are
sharing this information, but our sales will be just a
fraction of yours and we have split the sales over three
stock markets in my case. Sales of your magnitude will
on their own depress the market further, but careful
selling need not break the market. Whom may I ask do you
have in mind?'

     `My four brothers.'

     I had guessed that much already and added again `as
long as the sales are carefully done.'

     In the following days almost half a billion in
nickel stocks were sold world wide over the normal
monthly figures. When the Russian press release came out
the price of nickel dropped to 60% of its value two
weeks previously. I reversed my selling of two weeks
before and bought back the same volume of stock as I had
sold. My nett profit was eight point two million
dollars.

     Tommy Elford rang to say that he had bought 4 Big
Macs in all. When I said to him what would be left on
the table, the reply was four Milk Shakes, the Bank's
code for four million in profit.

     `How is the house decoration going on?'

     `Very slowly, thank God. It will take Janet years to
finish it.'

     To the sound of laughter, both of us hung up.



     Tariq rang me about the same time and said what they
had sold they had bought back again at a much reduced
price, and that his brothers and he were very grateful
for the financial advice.

     I knew that what I had done was perfectly legal in
Dahra. I had not acted on any insider or inside advice
received from any of the Bank's clients, but making so
much money in literally five days left me a little
unsettled.

     Two days later Tariq rang to say that he was sending
someone over with a catalogue of items and would I
please choose six of them. He asked me to look at all
the items and to pick out what I thought was most
beautiful among them.

     I had thought that we were both talking about
pictures or furniture or some such thing, so I was
surprised when a Mr. Jennings arrived unexpectedly and
was announced as coming from his Excellency. It was none
other than the stables overseer, Gus, whom I had met at
the Palace.

     Gus Jennings remained standing though invited to sit
down and handed over what seemed a simple binder with a
soft tan cover. I flicked it open expecting to see some
Chippendale tables or furniture or gallery pictures, but
was shocked to breathlessness on seeing page after page
of A3 size colour photographs of 50 young men, aged
between 18 and 32 years, totally naked, obviously
prepped in various ways for the photo shoot which,
against a plain white background, gave a head shot, a
full body nude, a side shot of the man standing beside a
type of ruler on the wall for measuring height, a close
of each cock when flaccid, and when erect, and last but
not least as close up of each anus. At the end of each
set of photographs, was the type of background which
each came from. It was a slave catalogue.

     By the time, I had finished the pages, I felt my
face was completely red. I knew I had a hard on.

     `What do I do?' I asked Gus, the overseer.

     `The Master wishes to buy six slaves for his
brothers. He wants the most beautiful. He wants you to
choose. Just run through them quickly and tell me the
number on the top of each page. When we get to six,
we'll stop.'

     Almost without thinking, I flicked back through the
catalogue again and called out number of those I felt
had something. A good face, buttock, a good profile, a
good cock, in each case, a different reason.

     Then all of a sudden, Gus shouted stop. There were
four pages left in the slave catalogue, so I chose one
more and deleted one of the previous. `Are you telling
me there is going to be a slave auction here in Dahra?'
I asked incredulously.

     `In al-Qatim tomorrow, in fact,' Gus Jennings said,
the larger of the two deep ports. `It's where the
auctions have taken place since the fourteenth century.
Do you wish to come and see how it is done?'

     I was so shocked that I could only stammer a `No,
thank you' to Gus, who nodded and left with the tan
folder in his hand as if he were carrying a file of
letters, instead of the future of six young men.


To be continued...