peperonity.net
Welcome, guest. You are not logged in.
Log in or join for free!
 
Stay logged in
Forgot login details?

Login
Stay logged in

For free!
Get started!

Multimedia gallery


gaynovel5.peperonity.net

CH. 21

The Changed Life by Gerry Taylor



Chapter 21 – Bob



Tariq, still laughing, departed with Farouq at a decent hour after dinner. Farouq murmured something about contacting me, if that was not too much trouble. I said to him that he could have Jess Tollman back if he wished, but he replied in good humour ‘no’ and that it would be a lesson to him not to make bets with Tariq al-Akhri again.



The following day flew by. There is so much to do in governing a Palace even if you have all the necessary help.

As I had fallen asleep the previous night without having had the pleasure of my two slave Bob and Flavio, I thought that I should have them up to my bedroom that evening. For some reason, I only called Bob up to join me.



Bob upon arriving was extremely nervous and unsettled. I could not quite figure it out and put my finger on it. We spent quite a time washing off the grime and perspiration of the day. Bob looked splendid in the shower – the water gleaming and glinting off his superb body - and his bubble butt looked quite edible. Having towelled me off, I returned the compliment and with a large cotton towel, I left his large frame firm and dry.



As I had not taken him before and he being therefore unbroken – Flavio or one of the other slaves never having dared take his virginity – I brought him in as I had previously his companions and indicated to him to kneel doggy style on the bed. The 6 foot 4 Canadian put his head down on the quilt and held his butt up in the air as I would have expected of him. He knew what he was there for and how it would be done.



Admittedly, it was my fault, and I do say it as a Master. I should have been more observant of his nervousness and tension. I let my hand wander over his perfect back and bubble buttocks. To say that they were perfection is to do a disservice to perfection itself. They were superb. The skin was flawless. His crack was shaven. His perineum taut. His asshole contracted in a tight knot. And this is what I should have noticed, but alas did not! They say that familiarity breeds contempt and disregard, and having taken four of the previous five new slaves without great problem, and to their and my own great enjoyment, for after all, in all modesty, I am a master lover among lovers, I did not really appreciate just how nervous Bob was.



I positioned myself behind his superb buttocks and I pressed in my hard-on into his clenched anus. That is to say, I started to do so, and did in fact get in about an inch or three centimetres at the most. When suddenly, Bob literally jumped up off the bed and ran into the bathroom in one Olympic dash. This was followed by the sound of dry retching, as of those who are trying to get sick but have nothing in their stomachs. I did not move, but listened. There was a sound of flushing and water flowing.



Bob came back to the door of the bathroom and stopped at then edge of the bedroom. His eyes were bloodshot and he was wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, drying off his lips from the water he had taken. His hands went automatically to his hips - fingers pointing inwards as if to say ‘look at my genitals, look at my penis, I am male, I am the dominant one’ – this in the classic stance of the human alpha-male.

I motioned him over to the bed and he came over sheepishly.



‘What was that all about, Bob?’ I said as I put an arm around him as he nestled up to me, his back to my chest.



‘Boss, I can’t do it. I can’t take it.’



I smiled at him. Only Ross called me ‘Boss’.



‘Where did the ‘Boss’ come from, Bob, and am I not to be address as your Master?’



‘Sorry, Boss, I mean Master. Ross always calls you that and we refer to you as that among ourselves.’



You learn something new every day as they say.



‘If ‘Boss’ makes you more comfortable, then leave it as ‘Boss’.

‘Master’ is merely a directly translation from the Arabic. And what do you mean ‘you can’t do it’?



‘Boss, Boss, I’m sorry,’ he was almost in tears, ‘I know you take each of the slaves. I have even fingered myself there at night to make myself ready for you and I have had Flavio finger me as well. It’s just that I am so tight inside. The pain is something awful. I thought that with the exercises that the overseer gave us for clenching and relaxing that it might be better but it’s not.’



For once I was speechless, so I just left my arm over him and he lay beside me, and I put my hand on his chest. His heart was running a mile a minute. I knew that the pain he was talking about really did not lie in his tightly sphinctered anus but in his mind afraid of giving up that last vestige of the personally intimate.



After about five minutes, Bob then ventured to say, ‘Boss, I know that we are not supposed to speak until spoken to or to ask you a question. But can I ask you one?’ and he went very silent.

‘What’s the question?’ I finally said. With his back up against me, he could not see my private smile.



‘Boss, are you going to sell me now?’ the question was almost a whisper.





He was the first slave ever to ask me that. It surprised me but I thought that the question merited a good reply. I turned Bob round to me.



‘Sell you, Bob? Why on earth would I sell you? Because you are a little tight down there?’ And I playfully smacked his gorgeous butt.



‘Have I not spent a fortune on your teeth into the bargain?’

He was not looking me in the eyes, so I raised his chin. The original fear that I had seen when he had been given to me by the al-Akhri brothers was there, but in a new variant.



‘Bob, what if you and I make a bargain? How about this? I will not sell you ever – and I let the ‘ever’ float on the air – unless you yourself ask to be sold of your own freewill.’



‘Boss, you mean that? You really mean that?’



‘Yes, pure and simple.’



‘Boss, oh Boss,’ and he wrapped his arms around my body, ‘ever since I was taken out the container here in Dahra, I have been so full of fear, of not knowing what is going to happen to me.’



‘Well, now Bob you know. You are going to be my slave until you and only you decide that you do not want me to be your Master. And by the way, this is a one to one deal. No telling to the others. You understand?’



I thought his arms around me would break a vertebra, so I gradually extricated myself.



‘It’s not that you are afraid of sex itself, Bob, is it?’



‘Oh no, Boss, I’ve had lots of sex.’



Seeing my uplifted eyebrow, he blushed his usual deep red,



‘Well, Boss, I fooled around a bit and have had sex with two girlfriends.’



‘And that constitutes a lot of sex?’



‘For me, at least, Boss’ and for the first time, he actually smiled when talking of a sexual situation.



‘Bob, a Master has the so-called droit de seigneur – the right of the lord to have sex with his slaves, servants and serfs. You will have sex with me, but let me decide how best to do it, for your benefit, not for mine. How about that? Is that ok with you?



‘Boss, you really mean that? You’re not going to sell me and you’re not going to break me in?’



‘No, Bob, I am not going to sell you as I said, but I am going to break you in differently to shoving my cock up your butthole against your will. You, Bob, are going to give me your ass in due course and you will service my cock and enjoy it.’



‘I don’t understand, Boss.’



‘Do not worry, Bob, I will see that Aziz helps you. He is a most experience head of household. Do you trust me on that?’



‘Yes, Boss.’



‘Now, one last question for the night. Do you know how to suck cock or is that against your beliefs as well?’



Even Bob could see the ludicrous nature of the question and said, ‘No, Boss, I suck Flavio off every night and have even learned to take his cock entirely even down my throat without gagging when he is coming.’



‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ I asked.



Sucking cock was one thing that my Canadian slave had learned to do very well and having come twice, I fell into a deep sleep.

The following morning I explained the problem to Aziz as I was inspecting the slaves in their stables.



‘The slave should have said so, Master,’ was Aziz’s only comment and going into the re-training room came out some minutes later with a small black rubber dildo which was actually more a butt plug about three inches long already lubricated with a cream.



Calling Bob over, Aziz put the dildo up right up under his nose with a frown of disapproval, and with one hand bent Bob over until his head was at the level of his knees. Going around to Bob’s butt, he eased the butt plug into his back passage. Bob gave a grunt and a groan and within some seconds, as it was fully lubricated, the small butt plug was in.



‘Two weeks there and there will be no further problem,’ Aziz said and marched off to attend to more serious matters.

I could not but help smiling at Bob, who was shifting from one foot to another.



‘I think, Bob, that you have just been given a solution to your problem. That butt plug stays in all the time, except when you are shitting in the morning and in the evening. Understood?’



‘Yes, Boss’ he said to more shifting from foot to foot.



True to Aziz’s prediction, a fortnight later - in the intervening weeks he was almost permanently with a massaged prostate erection - at Bob’s own request, I finally took out the ...


This page:




Help/FAQ | Terms | Imprint
Home People Pictures Videos Sites Blogs Chat
Top
.