Dahran

By Gerry Taylor

Published on Aug 15, 2003

Gay

This is the first chapter of part two 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 will be 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 Reluctant Retrainer by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 1 -- Vitali Belov

He was standing beside the bed as I walked into the room at `display' -- hand behind his neck, eyes looking straight ahead into the mid-distance, chest stuck out, belly pulled in. He was the last of the six slaves who had been gifted and the last of whom, one per night, I was going to bed that evening.

He was nervous - I could see that. His eight inch cock as usual - whenever he was nervous and that seemed to be a lot - was hard up against his lower belly. There was a slight sheen of perspiration on his lightly tanned skin. He was one of those Russians whose fair skin just turns the light shade of brown when exposed to the sun, and he had been working for the past month and a half on the farm and being extensively trained in the gym.

Due to pressure of my work at the Bank, I had not been able to give him the proper attention that was his due as a slave, or rather I had not been yet able to exercise my droit de seigneur -- the right of the lord -- to take his virginity.

When pressed hard in physical training, he would be painfully erect in my opinion -- and confirmed by Rolf, the gym instructor -- with a thin stream of pre-cum almost always spinning in the gymnastic air as he either went himself, or was put, through his paces. He had also achieved this classic boner status whenever a butt plug had been inserted into his back passage to loosen him up in preparation for tonight.

Although he was the assigned lover to another slave, his anal virginity had not been taken, nor had he been allowed to fuck his buddy slave whose virginity I had taken, just as I would take his this very night. He had been kept much as a Vestal virgin for the pleasure, not of an Roman god, but of his Master.

My apologies, my name is Jonathan Martin, banker by profession, and slave owner by accident, at your service.

And I have been speaking more or less to myself about the Russian delight standing beside my bed -- Vitali Belov -- a twenty three year old Muscovite who had been `lifted' for apparently no other reason than he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I went over to my slave and my approach seemed to make him even more erect. Certainly, his penis was now leaking copiously and its prepuce which normally covered a nice dark pink glans was now totally retracted down the shaft of the penis, and the entire top of the corona and flange were moist. I had not even physically touched Vitali and such was his physical reaction by my mere drawing close to him! His training to date had stood his proud, and I was pleased, as I had devised much of it myself.

I said rest' and he came out of the display' position and put his arms behind his back, one hand in palm of the other. Placing my hand on his chest, I could feel the hammering of his heart, just like the first time I had inspected him in the slave quarters of Tariq al-Akhri's palace. I took a strand of his spun web of pre-cum and brought to my lips. It was a thick strand, almost viscous, and sweet. I let him suck my finger to taste it and the wetness of my own spittle. His tongue was soft and gentle as it licked my finger.

Taking Vitali by the arm, I led him over to the bed. I would not use the adjustable leather table in the bedroom as I had done with some of the others to get either a perfect height for butt fucking or the perfect angle of their upturned heads for their first lessons in being deep throated by the Master.

Tonight, I wanted to be comfortable in a comfortable bed, with clearly the most sensitive of the six slaves who had been given to me as gifts by one of the Sheikdom's most powerful and influential families.

Vitali's buddy and lover in my Palace, Ross Wells, had told me of the sensitivity of his lover. It has been previously mentioned to me when Vitali had been gifted and that was the reason why I had had him trained for over a month as a masseur.

Coming over to the bed, I motioned to the lotion beside it on a table. Laying down on my belly, I let the slave do his work on my back and shoulders. His firm but extremely gentle fingers worked their wonders. He had been told how I loved to have the small of my back and spine worked, and just as he had been taught, his massage helped me to relax.

When I turned over after half an hour, I noticed that his erection had not gone down in the least. Now all his lower belly was wet with his own pre-cum.

I looked him in the eyes, as I positioned myself on one elbow, and stretching out light stroked his pink balls. He groaned far more than I would have expected. I let my fingers run again, almost in frottage -- nothing more -- over the warm skin of his scrotum, and Vitali Belov let out one gasp followed by a throaty groan as a stream of cum shot from his penis and hit me square in the chest. This was followed by four other streams, in such quick succession, which as I was balanced on my side on one arm, I could not avoid them, and they covered my face and arms and neck. The fountains in Trafalgar Square or the Fontane di Trevi were nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to this guy!

Vitali looked horrified as if all his worst nightmares had come to life at once.

`Master, oh Master, I'm sorry! Oh Master!'

It was not that any one was hurt or injured. I was just covered in sweet cum which was even running into my mouth. And it dawned on me. Vitali Belov was a premmie -- a premature ejaculator, unable to control his initial ejaculations to any great degree.

Whatever languor might have invaded my body with his massage, that was now totally disappeared. The look on his face was fearful. He did not know how I would react or what his punishment would be.

With pursed lips, I pointed him to the shower into the adjoining bathroom, waited until he got the water temperature right, and I walked in under the shower.

Vitali had stood back out of the spray. I motioned him in close to me and taking the soap handed it to him so that he could at least clean me up a bit. The cum soon disappeared as indeed the massage oil. Some minutes later, dried off with a couple of fluffy towels, I looked down at Vitali organ, which was now only at forty five degrees from his body.

`Is that going to pump off again, Vitali?'

`Not for a little while, Master. Master, I'm sorry about what happened in the bedroom.'

These were his first words. Since his extraordinary ejaculation had happened. Slave don't talk until spoken to, and I had not spoken to him, so correctly he had waited, apart from his spontaneous apology, until I had said something, and then he had added on his own thoughts. Thankfully the bedclothes had been spared the geyser spray of his ejaculation. It is just inconvenient to be rousing house slaves at that time of night to be changing bedclothes. I motioned him onto the bed again, and said `Does this happen with Ross?' - Ross being his lover.

`Yes, Master.'

`Every time?'

`Yes, Master.'

`And Ross has not helped you with this?'

`Yes, Master, he sucks me off quickly the first time, before it can happen, and then we make love for a long time, and he is careful not to touch too many places on me.'

`Where does he not touch?'

Vitali pointed to his balls, the insides of his legs, his toes, the backs of his knees, his nipples, his pits, his ears, the lobes of his ears. It went on and on.

Vitali Belov was a living walking mass of sensitive nerve endings!

And Ross Wells, my former call guy, and current assistant English teacher to the slaves who did not have English, had kept this little secret and Vitali Belov all to himself! I would be having words and more with him the following day.

`So, where Vitali can I touch you now that will not cause an ejaculation.'

`Almost anywhere now, Master, for about ten minutes. Then I cum again.'

`And how many times, will this happen?

`In a night, Master?'

`Yes, Vitali. In a night.'

`About six or seven times, Master.'

Oh, Ross Wells, you are now in a fine pickle and are going to be in for some rollicking, my lad!

`Vitali, I am now tired so I am just going to fuck the living daylights out of you. Partly because I am tired. Partly because you did not tell me about his sensitivity of yours. And partly because this whole thing has me as horny as a toad.'

I turned him over on his hands and knees, splayed his legs about three feet apart -- a bit too wide for his build -- but I wanted out of my annoyance to show who was in control and in authority over his body.

His puckered orifice was a pale coral pink and his tan ran in almost to its pink centre, but not quite. I fingered him gently and found that he was quite well lubricated. At least, something was right!

Like surgery - quick in, quick out - first sex with slaves should be short, brief and to the point. I positioned my now hard seven inch cock over his golden gate entrance and with one sharp forceful thrust, I was in.

Vitali bucked at the sudden entrance, but I was ready for that and had the palms of my hands firmly in the middle of his back. I remembered, from the first internal examination that I had given him that his prostate was straight in.

Even on my first entrance I hit it full and hard like a boxer going in for the kill. As I pulled out, my cock glanced off it again. Vitali bucked some more.

Four hard butt fucking penetrations -- worthy of any `Wham, bam, thank you, Ma'am' Marine -- and I made a liar out of Vitali Belov. It was not in ten, but in four minutes he blew his second load -- just as long and as hard as the first time round and then I blew my load caused by the sexual vibration of it all.

I turned him over on his back and shuffled up his body and over his chest until my cock was over his mouth. He knew what was expected of him. He licked me clean just as I liked it. The initial sex training being given to my slaves was being remembered and applied.

Vitali Belov,' I said, tomorrow, you and I are going to talk' and I wagged an admonishing finger under his eyes.

He looked at me and said, Yes, Master' not knowing the subtlety of the language, and he smiled and said, Thank you, Master. My first time with Master. Master's first time with Vitali.'

Before such simplicity, I could not be angry with him, and just smiled, and said, `Yes, Vitali. Well done!'

He visibly perked up and spooned up beside me on the bed. His warm butt up was against my cock, as if to say `I'm not a million miles away, if you need to come knocking on my door again'.

How could a Master be annoyed with a slave whose virginity he had just taken and who was politely trained into the bargain? We would have to work on the premature ejaculation, but that would be easy, like falling off a log, compared to some of the other work that lay before me.

Vitali's extraordinary outpouring merely confirmed in me the wish, and a Master' wish is not to be trifled with, that a proper training programme of sexual techniques be given to my slaves. That is something I would really enjoy doing.

I was not in my new official job six months as partner at the local branch of my bank Deckhams here in Dahra, and my life had changed so much, and so permanently I do think that overall it has changed for the better.

How little did I know that the retraining of Vitali Belov to control his own premature ejaculations, and the training of my ordinary slaves, would be a very pale shadow of other requests.

To be continued...

Next: Chapter 30: Reluctant Retrainer 2 3


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