Dahran

By Gerry Taylor

Published on Jan 17, 2004

Gay

This is the second chapter ex twenty two of a novel about slavery and gay sex.

Keywords: authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, gay, sex

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.

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The Dahran Way

Chapter 2 The importance of understanding

Fiona Campbell

My nephew Jack Tuttle's announcement of his engagement on the last day of the old year had taken me by surprise. That is the unadorned truth. Quite a surprise! But like many things in life, it had to be taken in one's stride and that is what I tried to do in the early New Year.

The Bank -- I am the local partner at Deckhams, the busiest merchant Bank on the Gulf -- was extraordinarily busy for some reason. All systems seem to be going full blast and all cylinders firing miraculously at the one time.

Colin Bowman had arrived from Rio de Janeiro via London as my new junior partner and he had been installed at the Bank's villa in the capital city. I had of yet told him nothing of what the Aloe and Lime Palaces contained.

Gustav Ahlson, my Swedish general manager and my other newly appointed junior partner though older than myself, was happy to help Colin settle in, getting him a Filipino pair who would be cook and housekeeper-cum-gardener -- available to him for two months until he decided on his own staff.

I drove Colin back to the Bank's villa on his first day and once inside the house, our clothes littered the passage down to the bedroom where he was as submissive to me as I was dominant to him as on those other occasions in London.

He had not taken a lover in the past year, he said, since his partner Carlos had been shot by his would-be kidnappers in the apartment in Rio. He had cried in my arms fourteen months previously as the floodgates of his grief had poured over the restraints of his pain.

Now he was in my arms and begging me to go deeper and harder, but I set my own pace and was rewarded when he came and came and came. His pent-up sexual release of over a year was well and truly worth waiting for.

In the totally honest small talk of after-sex which only true lovers who have endured the pain of suffering together can achieve, he stopped me in my tracks when he said `I had to fly to Paraguay two days after Christmas.'

I was silent when he said that. I knew Colin wanted to say more than give me details of a business flight. And so he wanted. And so he did. But the business of the flight was death.

He had hired the assault team which had come to his rescue on the night of his attempted kidnapping to go and find the kidnappers. That I knew. That he had told me in London. He had witnessed the execution of the first three of the gang in a hut, he had told me. He had been a witness, merely because the team leader did not want a novice in gun weaponry attempting to fire a Magnum.

`They found the fourth kidnapper for me a hundred miles outside of Asuncion. It took them all that time, but I never gave up hope. It cost me all of last year's bonus but when the piece of trash at my feet begged for mercy, I merely said to him he would get the same mercy Carlos received. This time the team leader had some smaller type of gun and this time I fired the single shot. Do you know, Jonathan, I now sleep so well knowing that justice has been done. But it also makes me a murderer, or if not a murderer the avenging nemesis of my Carlos.'

I held Colin a long time and let him rest. He had lanced the poison in his soul as he had opened up to me. Who was I to judge him?

They say confession is good for the soul. So as we talked late into the night, I confessed to Colin Bowman my ownership of the slaves at Aloe and Lime Palaces. He did not interrupt once in a recounting which took over an hour.

`That's the lot, Colin. Now you know it all.'

Naughty, naughty, Jonathan,' he said with a laugh. You have a choice of almost six hundred slaves, anyone of whom you can bed any night. I can't wait to visit you at the Lime Palace whenever you want to see me there.'

And with Colin Bowman, that was that. I did not invite him to the Palaces for a long time, waiting again for him to make the overture.

As we were dressing, I having to return to the Lime Palace, I asked him how his finances stood and, more precisely, what he had in his London account at the Bank. We all keep a London account at head-office.

When he told me, we both started to laugh.

`And how were you expecting to survive on two hundred and something sterling for the next six months,' and I waved a hand around in the air, indicating the lifestyle of a villa. We live on the bonuses, the modest salaries the partners take barely cover expenses.

`Jonathan, I shall survive on the memories of love and on soup each day in the Bank's canteen.'

For an Englishman, Colin Bowman was quite an untypical romantic if anything, a submissive romantic to be precise, where the revenge of the death of his lover had forcefully put all into perspective for him.

I transferred a hundred thousand into his account the following day, and when he started to protest when he found out at the Bank, I merely told him to be silent, that he had shown a courage that I would never have.

As we were in the middle of Foreign Exchange desks at the time, he could nothing else but mime a sort of whispered `thank you, Jonathan' with his lips.

Jack Tuttle flew with me to London on the eve of the Bank's board meeting in January. The partners -- we use the old name for directors -- always meet physically on the third Monday of the month. He wanted to meet with his fiancee, Fiona Campbell. They had been phoning each other every day and twice a day at times.

I had seen Jack's only two slaves, Beno and Vedel, round the Palace looking very happy one day after the Christmas and when I had asked why, they laughed and said that since the young Master had returned from his plane flight the last time, he had needed both of them each night every night and long into the night. And laughingly they both made a ring with forefinger and thumb and with another finger going in and out of the ring of flesh simulating the reason of their happiness.

As we flew up in the stratosphere, I asked Jack if he were comfortable with the whole idea of marriage as such, at what for me was a very young age, he still being just twenty.

Uncle Jonathan, I don't know why it is, but I am as sure of this as anything in my life. And when I think of Fiona, I merely have to think of her, and I am as hard as a rock' -- I automatically dropped my eyes to his flies and sure enough there was a firm outline -- I am very grateful that I have Vedel and Beno at night, otherwise I would not know what to do.'

`So I have heard,' and I told him what they had said to me.

`Let's say, Uncle Jonathan, that I hope my technique improves. I really want the best for Fiona. Which brings me to a point I want to discuss with you. I want to tell her about the Palaces.'

I was glad we were in public and on a plane because I could have throttled Jack, there and then.

`Jack, this is not just about you, me, the Palaces or Fiona. There are political and business matters here of which you have no idea. There are entire governments involved. If word of this gets out, like Pandora's four winds, the consequences could never be put back into the box.'

`Uncle Jonathan, Fiona wants to give up her job in Scotland and move to Dahra to live there with me. I want her to know about the life I have been leading in Dahra, so that we can decide what to do from now on. I don't want to start my marriage on a lie of omission or on a deception.'

Oh, how the young can delude themselves! Life is built on layers of deception. Love is built on deception after deception. Partnerships are built on deception. Marriage is one of the finest and loveliest deceptions of all. And my nephew wanted to tell a girl he had not met six weeks ago the truth about Dahra! Sweet heavens! Give me patience!

I don't actually remember what happened at the Board meeting, apart from Gustav and Colin being on video link from Dahra as indeed were two other partners. After the meeting and before our regular lunch, Charlie Deckham, our Chairman, cornered me.

`Jonathan, you were a million miles away for the entire meeting. I have never seen you so distracted. The branch is well. I am guessing your finances are well, if your untouched London balances are anything to go by. That leaves you and your home and family. Am I right?'

There is no deceiving a man of Charlie's experience and humanity. I filled him in on Jack and Fiona.

Oh dear,' was all he said. I know her father -- Alec Campbell -- the distillery people you know. The best single Malts this side of the Highlands. I don't think I know Fiona. The best way would be to talk to her with young Jack present. And don't be worried about his age. I was married at twenty two myself.'

So it was. I asked Jack to have Fiona and himself meet me at six that evening. Jack was staying at my usual hotel off The Strand, on a different floor, and Fiona was staying with him. We agreed to meet at six and have dinner later on.

When we met in my suite at the hotel, Jack looked nervous and my first impressions of Fiona were that she was certainly young, and she was clearly blond, and she was definitely beautiful. She dressed well but plainly, and I realised, though I am no expert at all in the matter, that she was not wearing any obvious makeup. Her only jewellery was a nice watch on her wrist, and a single solitaire engagement ring on her fourth finger.

I complimented her on the ring and she said very quietly `we chose it together.'

I could not beat around the bush, and told her that I needed to speak with her -- having already spoken a little with Jack.

`Yes, Jack said you wanted to speak to me about Dahra. I have been reading up on it since I met Jack. It appears to be very hot out there.'

`Yes, Fiona, that and more. I wanted to speak to you about some of the work that Jack and I do.'

`Work? You work at the Bank. Dad says he knows Lord Deckam and that Deckams is perhaps the best merchant Bank in Britain at the moment. But I told Dad not to worry.'

`Worry?'

`About Jack only learning to be a banker and working his way up. I have a trust fund from both my grandparents which I am sure will be more than enough for us to have a nice house out in Dahra and pay our way.'

`Jack has not mentioned anything at all to you has he?'

`About his work? He does something to do with dividends and he is learning about banking.'

Fiona Campbell did not know anything.

`Fiona, I do not think you should worry about Jack's finances. He is a lot richer than he appears to be, and in due course, I am sure he will talk to you about that, but even his wealth is not publicly known.'

Fiona looked at Jack who was blushing.

`Fiona, what would you say if you loved and owned, let's say a dog, and it was illegal for an English, sorry, a Scottish person, to own a dog in this country, but not in Dahra, let us say?'

She gave a little laugh and said `Move to Dahra with the dog!'

I looked at Jack who was looking intently at Fiona.

`And if the reverse were true.'

`To own a dog in Dahra, but not to be able to own one in Scotland?'

`Precisely.'

`I wouldn't bring the dog to Scotland, I suppose. But Sir Jonathan, you are talking in riddles here, what are you trying to say to me?'

`What is most sacred to you, Fiona? Something on which you would swear?'

`Sir Jonathan, you are beginning to frighten me. Why should I want to swear on my word which is what is most important to me? I have told Jack I love him. You have my word on that.'

`Fiona, I am not talking about your love. I am talking Jack's life, about my life, and what may be your future life, about a very particular way of life. Do I have your word that what we are about to talk about will not be discussed with anyone other than among ourselves?'

Jack put out his hand and took her hand in his, and with his free hand was touching the back of hers in a petting motion.

`You have my word,' she said.

Jack's breathing was all that I could hear along with the hammering of my own heart.

`Fiona what I shall tell you now puts at risk our lives, our fortunes, our positions in society and even the fate of governments. Everything that Jack may have told you about his work at the Bank is true, and as I say, he is a much richer person that you can ever guess. What you do not know is that he and I like many in Dahra own a number of slaves.'

I let the words hang in the air. Jack was about to say something, but I put up a finger and he was silent.'

`Tell me about it, Sir Jonathan,' Fiona said.

And for over two hours -- I had to go a lot slower than with Colin Bowman -- I filled in a Scottish teenager, not yet twenty years old, on Gustav Ahlson's work, my own slaves, the purchase of Jack's slaves -- at which point she playfully smacked the back of his hand, and the work in hand at the Aloe and Lime Palaces.

When I was getting hoarse from the talk -- Fiona not having interrupted once in almost two hours -- I finally said, `Have you any questions, Fiona, that I can answer?'

She looked at Jack a second and then at me and said, Jonathan, - I noticed that there was no sir' preceding the name -- from what you say you are now independently wealthy and have almost some six hundred slaves, two Palaces and the Buddy Foundation. What is your nett worth at the moment?'

Jack looked at his fiancee, appalled at her question -- his mouth partially open.

`Honestly, Fiona, I am not too sure something around a hundred and fifty million euro, I suppose.'

`Then, Jonathan, I will be very pleased to accept five million euro as a personal wedding present from you.'

`Fiona!' -- Jack almost shouted.

`Agreed,' the banker in me said, knowing that there was a tangible price on the silence and the loyalty of my future niece-by-marriage.

`Have you any question that you want to ask me, Jonathan? Or Jack, for that matter?' she said looking at both of us.

Jack started to remonstrate with her, `Fiona, how could you ask for money? I thought you loved me more than that.'

`No questions, Jonathan?'

`No questions, Fiona.'

`Jack, my love, I have a number of things to say. You are going to learn a lot about life and about women. The first thing is never trust a person who can be bought -- as a Scot you should know that if you have any recollection of our history. I have asked for money because while I have some of my own, it is just interest from a trust and what I have to buy will need more than interest.'

Jack was looking at her not understanding, as indeed at that point, neither was I entirely.

`The only way, my darling Jack, for you to be able to trust me entirely in this matter, is if I own my own slaves...'

`Fiona!' again a shocked Jack said.

`...the first of whom you, Jonathan, are going to sell me for the going rate.'

I merely looked at her.

`Andy McTee...'

The penny started to drop.

`If your general manager at the Bank can buy Swedish slaves, then I can buy Scottish ones.'

I could not help starting to smile. Jack looked incredulous at what he was hearing.

`Fiona!' he started to say again.

`Jack, stop it. I am not just a pretty face. I am going to be your wife on equal terms here or in Dahra, and never on less than equal terms. If I am to be your wife, I have to understand who you are. And if you are to be my husband, you have to understand who I am. If we can really understand each other, we can really love each other and continue to love each other over the years.'

Jack opened and closed his mouth, sitting on the edge of his seat.

`Fiona Campbell, I think I am going to like you a lot,' I said.

`Jonathan Martin, I already like you and I hope to get to like you a lot better,' she replied.

Turning to Jack, Fiona asked, `I suppose this is what you were talking about on the night when you said you were probably bisexual?'

Jack gulped, and nodded. `And then I proposed to you.'

`What are those two's names again?'

`Beno Vesh and Vedel Vesh.'

`I will have to read up not only on Dahra but also on Roma from Romania. And there are people who say getting married is dull!'

She leaned back in her chair and looked at both of us.

It was a good idea you told me. I prefer to have some sort of notion beforehand of what I am getting myself into. Even though you, Jonathan,' her laughing eyes were on mine have just agreed to sell me a slave I have never even seen.'

The dinner, prepared by Francois himself -- a gourmet chef with a pedigree in cooking to end all pedigrees -- which followed our little tete-a-tete was a waste of a celebration because Jack's fork scarcely touched his plate, such were his eyes for Fiona. His were glances of love, of joy, of happiness, of amazement, of being fulfilled.

After our talk and dinner, I felt a lot calmer as to the future and as to my having a nephew living in Dahra and married to Fiona Campbell -- albeit a young woman -- of some considerable understanding. If she were that and not yet twenty, I wondered silently to myself what would she be like when not yet thirty.

To be continued...

Next: Chapter 89: Dahran Way 3


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