Prince Trains a Slave - Part 12, The

“I dunno,” Monk replied. “Mebbe, mebbe not – ‘ere’s a geezer t’ see yer. ‘E’s a foreigner – sez his name’s Suliman Bey.”

“Bring him up here and give him some breakfast,” I told Monk. “Give him my apologies and tell him that I’ll join him as soon as I finish dressing.”

Monk barred my way protectively. “Is it trouble?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But, I’m sure it’s going to be an interesting meeting.” I stepped around Monk and started for the stairs. “One way or another, though – it is going to be interesting,” I repeated.

To be continued…

The Prince Trains a Slave, Part 12 (at last)

I took my time dressing, Actually, it didn’t take me all that long to get dressed – I already knew what suit and shirt I wanted to wear. Choosing an appropriate tie took me the longest time, and I was dressed in almost no time at all. I wanted to keep Suliman Bey waiting for as long as possible without it becoming obvious that my delay was deliberate. It was a cheap ploy to see if Bey could be rattled or not. While I waited, I called down to the front door and asked if anyone was waiting for Suliman Bey.

“No, sir,” the security man on the door replied. “He arrived in a taxi.”

“A taxi? Not a hired limo?”

“A taxi, sir,” the security man confirmed.

I took the time to pause at the top of the landing and look down on the lower level. It was a cheap and theatrical trick, but it did give me the chance to study Suliman Bey for a moment before actually shaking hands with him. He was short with a monk’s fringe of white hair and a clipped military style moustache that had remained a lively salt and pepper. At one time, he had been powerfully built – now, most of that muscle had softened and turned paunchy. I guessed his age to be close to seventy.

“Suliman Bey, I am Duncan Masters,” I announced from the top of the stairs. “I do hope that you’ll join me for breakfast.”

“Grand Duke Duncan,” Bey began.

“Let’s leave the titles alone for now,” I said easily. “They just get in the way, and besides, the title’s just an honorific one.”

Bey nodded his head and began speaking. “I appreciate you graciousness in seeing me on such short notice and without invitation.” His voice held just the faintest hint of an accent and reminded me slightly of Omar Sharif. “I came direct from Malta as soon as I heard from Misha about this shameful business. I assume full responsibility in this matter and will make everything right.”

I slowly walked around the table, keeping my eyes locked on his. “Why?”

“Why?” Bey repeated. “Because it is my responsibility.”

“Did you order your man to falsify Harold’s records? Did you order him to lie about how dangerous Beemis was?” I asked.

“No, but the responsibility is mine, nonetheless,” Bey said squaring his shoulders and returning my stare with a mixture of pride and defiance.

I couldn’t help smiling at the old man. “Please sit down, sir, and share some breakfast with me and my friends,” I said. “We can discuss business later.” Bey hesitated, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Please sit down, Mr. Bey and join me in breakfast. I promise that you have nothing to fear. If I wanted you dead, I can assure you that Monk would have already dropped your body over the railing into the Thames. Isn’t that right, Monk?”

“’At’s right,” Monk confirmed.

Bey relaxed visibly as he took his place at the table. “I must admit that I am relieved,” Bey admitted mopping his brow. “From your reputation I would have imagined a different response entirely.”

“And, if you had been even slightly responsible, you’d have seen a different reaction from me,” I a said affably, spreading my napkin across my lap.

“How can you be so sure that I had nothing to do with what happened?

“Your reaction,” I said. “You obviously dropped everything and came right to London as soon as you heard. Once here, you don’t make excuses or blame those under you – instead, knowing my reputation for taking revenge, you take full responsibility for everything. You arrive at the front door without an armed guard, unannounced, and wait patiently as I made you wait.” While I was speaking, Matthew silently glided to the table and placed fruit cups before each of us. I spooned a fresh succulent strawberry into my mouth. “Try the strawberries, sir, they’re excellent.” I waited until Bey had eaten three spoonfuls of strawberries. “I already know that Hans Schlemmer is the man responsible for everything,” I said quietly.

“And, I am the one who put Hans in full charge of everything,” Bey said sadly. “So, the ultimate responsibility is, in reality, mine.”

“That’s very noble, sir,” I said. “I honestly don’t know if I’d have the same reaction. But, we can discuss everything after we have breakfast, we don’t want to spoil Matthew’s excellent cooking with the unpleasant discussion of business.”

After breakfast, we went down to the infirmary to see how Gunter was progressing. We found Steven hovering by the side of the bed and Gunter still unconscious, his face almost totally hidden under swath of bandages. Bey’s dark complexion went several shades paler as he looked at the injured slave.

“What of the one who did this?” Bey asked in a strangled voice.

“He’s already been punished and given to Mr. Valentin Klimenko,” I said. “Klimenko has already taken his package and left the country.”

Bey nodded appreciatively. “Valentin will see that the bastard who did this gets the appropriate punishment.” He rubbed his jowly face before easing Steven to one side and placing his hand gently over Gunter’s. He bowed his head and his lips moved silently.

We moved to Pashir’s office where Bey seemed to regain his composure as his anger grew as we watched the security tapes of the incident. While we viewed the tapes, Bey rifled through the dossier on Beemis.

“This is intolerable!” Bey exclaimed, tossing the papers on the desk. “What Hans has done is insulting – he will pay dearly for this, I promise!” He got up stiffly and paced the spacious office. “I must blame my own stupidity and laziness for what has happened. It is an old man’s folly – when Hans came to me he was so efficient and good. I allowed him to take more and more responsibility as I pursued more leisure and less responsibilities.”

“That’s stupid and you know it,” I replied harshly. “Do you think that you’re omniscient and should know everything? Hans got greedy and took advantage of your trust, that was his first mistake. But, his biggest mistake was in thinking that he could pull a fast one over on me and get away with it. With that mistake he thought he could play you and me for fools.”

“Well, he was wrong,” Bey spat. “I may be old and a little lazy, but I’m not a one to be played for a fool.” Bey paused his pacing and ran a hand over the top of his bald head. “Is he aware that this incident occurred?”

“Not unless Misha told him, he’s not.”

“Misha would have never done that,” Bey said dismissively. “So, there is no reason that Hans shouldn’t come here for the slave auction.”

“None at all,” I said. “In fact you and he have personal invitations to the big day.” I picked up the phone and called my office. “Irma, have we gotten a response from Hand Schlemmer to our invitation yet?”

“Just a moment, sir.” Over the phone I could hear Irma’s machine gun rapid typing as she checked the information on her computer. “Yes, we have and both he and Mr. Bey will be attending. Schlemmer is due to arrive at Heathrow tomorrow evening, I don’t seem to have any arrival time for Mr. Bey.”

I looked up at Bey and smiled. “Confirmed – Hans has accepted the invitations and should arrive here tomorrow night. There are no arrangements for when you’ll arrive.”

“That’s because I didn’t know for sure that I would come,” Bey said. “As of late, I’ve been letting Hans attend important auctions on his own with full authority to act in my behalf.”

“What’s your normal procedure for attending this kind of event?”

“Since Schlemmer’s arrival, I usually wait until the last minute to decide whether I’ll attend,” Bey said. “I make my own arrangements. Call Schlemmer and just show up.”

“Good, that’s exactly what you’re going to do this time,” I said. “I understand that you normally stay at the Savoy when you’re in London.”

Bey gave a start and then laughed warmly. “You don’t miss a trick,” he chuckled. “Yes, I normally take a couple of suites on the same floor at the Savoy.”

“We’ll have a call re-routed to Malta and back to London so you can make arrangements as you normally would.”

“That way if Schlemmer tries to check up on me, all will look as it should,” Bey concluded.

“I’ll have Monk personally lead the security detail to meet Schlemmer at the airport,” I said. “Once we have him in the car, he belongs to us.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Bey asked.

“Something massive,” I promised. “I’m definitely going to expose him to my guests – whether I do that before or after I have him castrated, I haven’t decided.”

“Might I ask if you have available cattle prods?”

“We do.”

“Then, I should beg your indulgence and request that a cattle prod be made available to me.”

“I’m intrigued,” I said smiling devilishly. “I can’t wait to see a master like you at work.”

We spent the next couple of hours making plans for when we got Schlemmer in the dungeon. I would have liked to have spent more time on the planning, but Irma interrupted me with a page that some of the invited guests were arriving early and were assembling in the Dining Room. I escorted Bey back up to the flat – by mutual agreement, we had decided that still didn’t want anyone to know that he had already arrived. While in the flat, I took the time to exchange my shirt for a fresh one – I wanted to look my best when greeting the guests.

There were about a dozen men and women gathered in the Dining Room -- a dozen-and-a-half counting those slaves who had been brought along. Ingo had outdone himself – there was a long buffet table along one side of the Dining Room, complete with an ice sculpture of a naked male slave in chains and collar. All of the waiters were dressed in formal attire – half of them wearing kilts.

I had barely moved into the room when I was stopped by a slightly built Korean man. “Mr. Masters, I am Kim Duc Lee,” he said with a slight bow. “I wanted to compliment you on the setup you have here – from what I’ve seen so far, it is most impressive.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kim,” I said returning his bow. “We’ve been lucky to have an excellent staff who worked very hard to get things ready. Most of the credit belongs to them.”

Kim bowed his head respectfully. “I think that you give more credit to others and too little for yourself,” he said. “Are any of these slaves available for purchase in the auction? There are a couple who have managed to catch my eye.”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Kim,” I said. “However, we do have around one hundred in the auction – all body types, complexions, and hair colors. I’m sure you’ll find one who will appeal to you.”

I excused myself and went over to the bar where the barman produced a glass of my favorite pear schnapps without being asked. I took the glass and sipped the liquid appreciatively when Simon appeared at my elbow.

“Sorry that I didn’t get here sooner,” Simon said. “I was helping William with a few of his lessons.”

“I just got here myself,” I replied. “How’s William making out?”

“He’s coming along well in slave deportment,” Simon said. “It’s the language pert of his lessons that are giving him trouble. He just can’t get the hang of French.”

“Well, with your help he should get the hang of it,” I said. I turned and took Simon’s chin in my hand and leaned down to kiss him. I really liked having the freedom to openly show how I felt about him in all of the public areas of the club. His mouth tasted of the sour cherry hard candies that he so loved. “You taste so good,” I whispered, smiling at the way he blushed. I ran my hand over his silky hair admiring its feel and color. Konrad had added subtle natural-looking highlights to Simon’s hair making it appear even more luxurious.

“He’s a beautiful boy,” a soft female voice said from behind me. I turned to find a tall, exotic looking woman standing there with a glass of champagne in her hand. She had deep green eyes and mahogany hair that fell past her shoulders. She held out her hand. “Carla Shepherd – also known to some as Lady Nightwind.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Lady Nightwind,” I said, taking her hand.

“Is he one of the ones up for sale?” She asked indicating Simon.

“No, I’m happy to say that he’s not. He’s a keeper,” I said. I half turned to Simon. “This is Simon, my boy and life partner.”

Simon made a perfect show of bowing low as he thanked her for the compliment and took her hand.

“My, my I am impressed,” she said. “Beauty, grace, and manners to boot.” She took Simon’s chin and gazed into his puppy dog brown eyes. “Are you exclusively gay or just bisexual?”

“I’m totally gay, Lady Nightwind” Simon told her a trifle proudly.

“You have a good eye, Lady Nightwind,” I said.

“As do you,” she returned the compliment. She glanced around the room at the waiters. “Everywhere I look, I see such beautiful boys.” Her gaze followed a waiter in a kilt across the room as he delivered drinks to a table of Asians. The waiter had a head of curly reddish hair, blue eyes, and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. “Tell me, what do those waiters have on under those kilts?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I said truthfully. “It might be interesting for you to find out.” I signaled for the waiter to come over to the bar.

“What’s your name, boy?” Nightwind asked.

“Jamie, ma’am.” His voice betrayed the slightest of Irish brogues.

“That’s a beautiful name,” she said, as she reached out and played with his curls. “It matches these beautiful ringlets you have on your head.” Jamie looked down and blushed furiously. “Shy, too – I like that.” Without warning, Nightwind reached down, grabbed the hem of the kilt and raised it up exposing Jamie’s shaven groin. He had an impressive uncut dick under the kilt – at least six or seven inches long flaccid. Halfway up the shaft of Jamie’s dick there was a scarlet ribbon tied in a bow. “That’s the kind of package I’d like to find in my stockings on Christmas morning,” Nightwind laughed as she allowed the kilt to drop back in place. She dismissed Jamie. “If you have a couple of boys like him in the auction I just might place a bid on them,” she said. “I really am here looking for girls to buy on this trip.”

“We have a nice selection of female slaves,” I said. “You’ll get a chance to see some of them tonight and there will be a long period of inspection of all the slaves before the auction.”

Nightwind and I chatted amiably for a few more minutes when I noticed Monk standing in the doorway. Excusing myself I made my way over to the security man.

“Schlemmer jus’ called from Paris,” Monk said softly. “’e’s due to arrive at ‘eathrow in about an ‘our. Git this, ‘e’s ordered a car from ‘ere t’ pick ‘im up.”

“Well, that will certainly make your job easier,” I said.

“It will, if ‘e ain’t doin’ a runner,” Monk said, shaking his bald head. “An’ Paris is a good place t’ start runnin’. If ‘e wuz smart, ‘e’d run an’ never come near this place.”

“That wouldn’t make any difference,” I said. “We’d just hunt him down and bring him back here to face the music. I really don’t think that he’s going to run – so far, he doesn’t know that anything happened. And, I think that he’s too arrogant to even consider that I might take action against him. I think he’ll be at Heathrow when that plane lands.”

“Well, if ‘e does show up, I’ll be waitin’ fer ‘im,” Monk said ominously. “I got jus’ th’ car t’ meet ‘im in. I borrowed a Roller from an undertaker I knows. ‘e used ter do some work on th’ side fer th’ gangs. ‘is speciality wus makin’ people jus’ disappear after a ride in ‘at Roller. It’s got a special winder between th’ front an’ back … it seals air tight an’ ‘ere’s this fittin’ t’ let nitrous oxide inta th’ back seat. Afore we leave ‘eathrow, ‘e’ll be nappin’.”

“Monk, what did the undertaker do with the sleeping victims?”

“Why ‘e put ‘em in th’ ovens and burned ‘em t’ ashes,” Monk replied.

“Efficient,” I admitted. “When you get Schlemmer here, take him directly to the holding cells.”

“Gotcha,” Monk promised before lumbering from the room.

After Monk left, Simon and I circulated around the room meeting more of the guests and their slaves. I was interested in the appearance of the slaves in particular – you can tell a lot about the master or mistress from the look of his or her slave. Good masters and mistresses treat their slaves well. They take good care of them and take pride in their overall physical appearance. After all, most slaves were expensive – at least at these kind of auctions, they were. There were other sources for slaves that weren’t quite as expensive, but the quality of the goods was usually questionable.

Lady Nightwind had brought two slaves with her – a male and a female, although it was almost impossible to tell which was which. Both were dressed in tight fitting leather shorts, halter tops, and the same wide leather collars around their necks. Both had the same platinum chin-length bob hairstyles. From the way she had the two slaves dressed, it was clear that the good Lady was a huge fan of androgyny. Studying the pair, I found it difficult to decide which was male and which was female from their crotches. Neither had a tell-tale bulge in their skin tight leather shorts. Either the Lady had had the male nullified, or she had him tucked extremely well.

Kim, on the other hand, was clearly a fan of over-pumped muscle types. The slave he had with him was dressed casually in street clothes that were almost bursting at the seams. I wondered whether the massive amounts of steroids that had been pumped into the slave had shrunken his testicles and penis.

I was studying the slaves that Sheik Ali had brought with him when Monk arrived by my side.

“Th’ package showed up and ‘as bin delivered,” he whispered quietly in my ear.

I nodded absently and made my apologies for having to leave on such short notice after complimenting Kim on the work he had had done to his slave. Monk discretely waited for me in the corridor.

“Did you have any problems?”

“Nah,” he sneered. “’at wuz a piece o’ cake. ‘e jumped in the back o’ th’ Roller and ordered me t’ drive ‘im t’ th’ Savoy. Then, ‘e rises th’ divider hisself. Soon as I pulled away from th’ loadin’ area, I started th’s gas flowin’. ‘e wuz asleep before we ‘it th’ highway.”

I nodded and complimented him on a job well done as I fished my cell phone from pocket and called up to the flat to invite Bey down to the dungeon holding cells. The next phone call I made was to my computer wizard in the command center. “Do it, now,” was all I needed to say into the phone.

Monk guided me right to the cell where the unconscious Schlemmer had been dumped unceremoniously on the bed in a heap. I ordered two of the guards to go into the cell and strip Schlemmer of his clothes and then take him to the torture chamber where I wanted him bound spread-eagle between two posts. The guards were doing a good job of removing Schlemmer’s clothes. By the time they gathered up the clothes and left the room, Schlemmer was naked and exposed to the world. He had a large, thick cock and large balls. I smiled savagely at the thought of his reaction on discovering that he was going to loose that impressive package that now rested between his legs.

The door opened and Bey hesitantly poked his head into the room. “The charming Mackenzie brought me down here,” he said.

I explained that Schlemmer hadn’t yet woken up from the nitrous and stepped back to make room for the guards who were dragging Schlemmer from the room. From what I could see, although I knew that Schlemmer was thirty-five, he looked to be in his early to mid-twenties. His body was well muscled from hours in the gym. His dark brown hair was meticulously styled in a layered 70’s style that was almost shoulder-length.

“What next?” Bey asked.

“We have the staff shave Schlemmer from the neck down,” I said. “The guards here do an excellent job of stripping all of the man hair from new slaves.”

While the guards went to work shaving Schlemmer’s body, Mackenzie appeared with a refreshment cart and served coffee and pastries. Bey was delighted at the repast and said that when he got back to Istanbul he’d have to implement the same plan. Bey was just helping himself to a third cup of coffee and a fifth cream-filled pastry when Schlemmer started to moan and roll his head around. The guards had completed their task of shaving the German a few minutes earlier.

Schlemmer’s head rolled a couple of more times before he jerked his head up and his eyes snapped open. He tried to move his arms and when he found that he couldn’t he looked around angrily.

“Was ist los?”

“Shut it,” I said, stepping out of the shadows. “You screwed up big time when you tried to foist Harold Beemis off on me without warning me that he needed special handling.” I came around in front of him and smiled sweetly. “Now, you’re going to pay for that mistake.”

“Haff you eny idea of vot mistake you are making?” Schlemmer hissed. “You haff no authority to do this to me. Suliman Bey vill make you pay dearly.”

“Think again,” Bey roared, coming out of the darkness like a charging rhino. “You disgrace me and my operation. You will make amends the only way open to you now – you will pay with your freedom. You will be sold as a slave.”

Schlemmer’s face paled at the sight of Bey and got paler still as he listened to the old man’s threats. He got a sly look in his eyes. “I haff money put aside,” he said smoothly. “I vill pay all of it to buy my release.”

“You mean the accounts in Turkey?” I asked.

“Ja, ja,” Schlemmer nodded his head eagerly. “They are all yours. Everything in the accounts.”

“Or are you talking about the accounts in Basel, or Hong Kong, or the Caymans?” I asked, enjoying the way his face clouded over every time I mentioned a location of one of his secret accounts. “We know about all of them and have taken steps to close them all out and have the money transferred. We even closed out the bank account in Berlin – by the way, you only had a few thousand marks in that account. Did you forget that you had it?”

Schlemmer cursed at me for a long time and with great fluidity. Eventually, I got tired of hearing him and ordered the guards to apply the dental gag to keep Schlemmer’s mouth open. The device doesn’t look like much at first, just some heavy duty wire. But, it is effective. The dental gag is used to keep the patient’s mouth open during prolonged dental work. I’ve found that it has other uses as well.

“What are you going to do now?” Bet asked with interest.

“The dental gag is just to keep Schlemmer’s mouth open,” I said, removing my jacket and going to the cart that had been prepared earlier. I carefully fitted latex surgical gloves over each hand and then lifted a small stainless steel bowl. Uncovering the bowl, I revealed a dull red paste. Bey started to try to poke it with his finger. “Be careful,” I snapped. “What you see is a concentrated paste made from three of the hottest chili peppers around.”

Bey looked from the bowl to Schlemmer with a crafty gleam in his eyes. Already Schlemmer was beginning to drool all over himself. “I see,” he said with a grin. “You intend to coat Hans’ tongue with this concoction.”

“I do,” I said, going to stand directly in front of Schlemmer. He had heard my conversation with Bey and did his best to move his head out of the way. I had one of the guards hold Schlemmer’s head still in a clamp-like grip and carefully spooned the chili paste over the German’s tongue, taking care to make sure that the coating was applied thickly.

The results were almost instantaneous. Schlemmer began screaming and once the guard released his grip on Schlemmer’s head, the German began violently shaking his head in all directions in a futile effort to dislodge the paste from his mouth.

“Ingenious … simply ingenious,” Bey complimented me.

“For best results, I’d normally clamp his lips shut,” I said. “But, the point I wanted to make was made … he should be more aware of his language from now on.”

“What other uses can you put this marvelous concoction to?” Bey asked.

“It’s an effective way to make a slave with an ample foreskin beg to be circumcised,” I said. “All you do, is pull the foreskin back and apply the paste to the glans. Then, you pull the foreskin back into place over the glans, and tie it in place. It usually takes five minutes or less to have a slave begging for the circumcision.”

“I should like to see that,” Bey said eagerly.

“You’ll have a chance tomorrow,” I promised. “Hans here, will be the main attraction in a workshop in punishments for particularly unruly slaves.”

“You plan to circumcise him then?”

“Oh yes,” I said. “That will be before the auction where we’ll auction his balls and dick to the highest bidder.”

“Excellent, excellent,” Bey rubbed his pudgy hands together in anticipation. “Now, since you have showed me a new technique, you must allow me to share one of mine with you.”

I crossed my arms and watched as Bey selected a cattle prod and a tube of K-Y jelly. Schlemmer, seeing Bey’s preparations, renewed his struggles as Bey moved around behind the German.

“You see, this is an effective method to break a new or unruly slave,” Bey explained, coating the business end of the prod liberally with the K-Y jelly. “In comparison with your method, this is rather old-fashioned and crude,” he said apologetically as he slid the cattle prod up Schlemmer’s ass. Once he was satisfied that he was deep enough, Bey triggered the device sending a shock through the new slave.

I watched in admiration as Schlemmer went rigid in his bonds when the electrical shock hit him. His screaming changed pitches. Bey triggered the prod again, sending Hans flailing around as much as his bonds would let him.

“Now, this part takes a little practice and skill,” Bey said as he moved the prod around, probing Schlemmer’s ass. He smiled. “Ah! There it is,” he triggered the prod again and to his delight while Hans bucked and screamed, a huge load of cum shot from his dick to land about six feet away. “Deliver an electrical charge directly to the prostrate and you can force a climax from the slave.”

“That’s marvelous,” I said. “I’ve used electrical charges on a slave’s balls before, but I’ve never done that.”

Bey repositioned the cattle prod and triggered it again, causing Schlemmer to convulse in his bonds. “I think, compared to some of the techniques that you use, this method is a little primitive,” he said. “But, it does get the job done.”

“It’s most effective,” I said, after Hans’ screams had died down to half-choked moans. “I’m going to have to try your technique the next time I need to punish a slave.” From the corner of my eye I caught the nervous glances of each of the guard slaves. One even went as far as to surreptitiously reach behind him and rub his ass. “Stop running your ass, and get a hose in Hans’ mouth to wash the paste away,” I told the guard with a grin.

I went over to the equipment cabinet and got a Foley catheter set out. Gloving up, I opened the sterile package and placed everything on a cart to roll over to Hans.

“You are going to catheterize him, I see,” Bey observed.

“Yes, yes I am,” I said, dipping the catheter in an open container of liquid.

“Why go to the trouble?” Bey wanted to know. “I observe that the floor is tile and there is a large drain at his feet. Don’t you find it effectively humiliating to let the prisoner being punished to soil himself?”

“Normally, that’s exactly what I’d do,” I replied. “But, these aren’t normal circumstances. I want to make Hansie here pay dearly for what he’s done.” I took Hans’ cock in my free hand and began inserting the catheter. Almost immediately, Hans took a deep breath and let out a piercing scream. “You saw me dip the catheter in that liquid.”

“Yes, I did observe that,” Bey said nodding.

“Well, that liquid is made by squeezing the juices from habanero peppers,” I explained. “Hans is going to go through living hell until he’s put on display tomorrow. By then, he should view having his cock removed as a kind of blessing.”

Bey chuckled wickedly. “And, until then he suffers like the damned.”

“Well, I must be going,” I said to Bey. “I’ve got scores of things that need my attention before tomorrow. Please feel free to avail yourself of the equipment here, or if you’d prefer, join the other guests in the dining room.”

Leaving Bey, I made my way to the infirmary to look in on Gunter. I found Gunter surrounded by sprays of flowers and Steven by his side and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Reggie was huddled in a corner. I had to smile when I got a good look at Reggie. Steven had dressed him in a pastel pink sweater draped over the shoulders of a sunshine yellow polo shirt which was tucked into pleated khakis. Reggie’s bare feet had been stuffed into Docksider moccasins. One of Konrad’s specially made rubberized wigs was glued to Reggie’s head. The wig Steven had chosen had been dyed a bright doll-like lemon yellow and styled in a 50’s preppy pompadour.

“Nice look for Reggie,” I said sitting on the edge of the bed. “He’ll be a big hit with the guests when you show him off tonight and tomorrow.”

Steven beamed. “Thanks, I wanted him to look special.”

“Well, how’re you feeling today?” I asked Gunter.

“Aside from feeling very stupid, I’m feeling pretty good. They are taking good care of me here,” Gunter said. “I should have been ready for trouble.”

“Stop that,” I snapped. “Everyone did everything the way that they were supposed to yesterday. What happened couldn’t have been foreseen or planned for. It was an aberration. There is no one to blame here. As a matter of fact, the person who is responsible is in the dungeon right now.”

Behind me I heard the door open and then I heard a little gasp of surprise. Turning, I saw a huge basket of fruit trying to squeeze through the door with Brigitta’s legs attached.

“Brigitta?” I asked rising from the bed. “Is that really you?”

“I … I erm, I just thought that this fruit might cheer Gunter up,” she stammered.

I took the basket from her, surprised by the unexpected weight and held it at arm’s length examining the bright colors of the fruit. “I should think this basket contains enough colors to brighten up even the darkest of rooms,” I observed. I put the basket down on the table and turned to Steven. “C’mon, let’s get out of here – we have some planning to do for the auction.”

“Gunter, take your time recuperating,” Steven said, giving the guard’s arm a squeeze.

I held the door open for him and Reggie before beckoning Brigitta over to whisper. “Remember, go easy on him he needs all the rest he can get,” I smiled. “I should think that a simple hand job is about all he can handle about now. I don’t want to hear Pashir complain about him finding you fucking the hell out of Gunter and wearing him out.”

Brigitta’s face turned three shades of red, but she still managed a demure smile. “What about a blow job,” she giggled. “Do you think Pashir would complain about that?”

“I don’t know,” I replied with a straight face. “Why don’t you offer him one and see how he reacts? But, I suspect that Dianna keeps Pashir happy in that department.”

Brigitta playfully punched my arm. “You know what I mean.”

“Quite honestly,” I said, looking over at Gunter. “I think it would do him a world of good. Just try not to get him so excited that he screams and pulls out those stitches.”

I took Steven and Reggie back to the flat where Matthew served refreshments. Matthew had an expression of someone who knows a secret on his face and I asked him what was up.

“I can’t really say, sir,” he said. “But, I can warn you to be prepared for a surprise.”

“Good or bad?”

Matthew frowned and then shrugged. “I can’t say – it all depends on how you react.” He thought for a moment, his cute face screwed up in concentration. “If I had to qualify it, I’d say it definitely wasn’t a bad surprise. I just think that you’ll be surprised, is all.”

Shaking my head, I turned to Steven and pointed at Reggie. “How long does it take to get those wigs changed?”

“Not long at all, sir,” Steven said. “I can have that one off and another one in its place in about ten minutes – letting the glue dry enough to keep it in place is what takes the real time.”

“How extensive is Reggie’s wardrobe?”

“Pretty extensive,” Steven said. “He’s got a wide assortment of styles – from formal wear, to casual, to beach wear. All of it is based on the wardrobe from the Ken doll.”

“Good, good,” I nodded. “I want you to have about five or six different outfits along with different wigs picked out for our doll there for tomorrow. He’s going to be on display for our guests tomorrow.”

Steven smiled. “Fantastic idea, sir,” he grinned. “Perhaps we could even arrange for Reggie here to do a little fashion show. If I could get the help of Konrad and Brigitta, we could do the changes quickly.”

I tipped my glass in Steven’s direction. “That’s an even better idea,” I said warmly. “Make it happen. Pick out about a dozen or so other slaves and have them model other slave fashions while you’re overseeing the changes on Reggie.”

Steven quickly warmed to the idea and kicked out several possible slave outfits – everything ranging from simple leather collars and cuffs, to heavy steel collars and restraints, to diapers. While we were going over all the possible combinations, Simon and William entered the room. Simon wasted no time in making himself comfortable in my lap.

“Got a surprise for you,” he announced, wrapping his arms around my neck and giving me a peck on the cheek.

“Is that surprise that Matthew warned me about?”

Simon pulled a pouting face. “He told you already?”

“He told me nothing,” I said, returning his kiss. “He just warned me that there was something up that might surprise me. Well, what is it?”

“Actually,” Simon said playfully, tracing the scar on my cheek with his index finger. “It’s William’s idea.”

I looked over at William who looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Well, what is it?” William looked as if he wanted nothing more than for hole to open up under his feet and swallow him whole. His face went through the whole red spectrum and even invented a couple of new and rather interesting shades as his mouth opened and closed without making a sound. “Well, what’s the big surprise, William?”

“W-we-well, you … you k-k-know how we talked about me ge-get-getting cir-circ-circum …,” his face turned so red that for a moment I was afraid he was going to burst a blood vessel.

“Circumcised,” I finished. “Yes, I remember. Have you changed your mind?”

“Oh no, sir!” William said quickly. “But, I was thinking – with this auction going on for the next coupla days, and I was hearing that there were going to be demonstrations and all … well, I was thinking … I mean, what do you think Sir Bernard would feel if the … if the … if the cutting was done in public?”

I eased Simon off my lap and leaned forward. “Could you explain your thinking, William?”

William’s face went through the red color spectrum again. “Well, I thought it would be like a public declaration of my commitment to him,” William said quickly as if he were afraid that if he didn’t get the words out fast, he’d never get them out at all.

“You’re still pretty shy, William,” I said softly. “You do realize that there will be strangers there and you’d have to be naked in front of them all.”

William nodded. “Yes sir, I realize that,” he nodded. “But, what better way to get over that shyness than to jump in with both feet like? It’s kinda like swimmin’, ease into the water and it’s a shock. But, jump straight in and it ain’t – sorry, it isn’t – quite so bad.”

“That’s a good theory,” I admitted, rising and walking around the nervous slave. “Let’s see it in practice. Strip out of those clothes now.”

William swallowed and looked pointedly at Steven and Reggie. He swallowed again and quickly removed all of his clothes while we all watched with interest. He neatly folded each article of clothing and stacked them neatly on the chair. When he was totally naked he stood straight and tall, clearly making an effort to not hide his genitals with his hands.

“Matthew,” I called. The slave shyly appeared from where he had clearly been hiding and watching everything that had been going on. “Get Konrad and Mackenzie over here and Brigitta, too, if she’s free. Add Pashir, Sam and Dianna to the list. After they’re all here, I’ll want you to call Sir Bernard.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Once you’ve contacted all of those people,” I said resuming my seat on the couch. “We’ll want tea and some refreshments.”

I leaned forward and watched William intently. The color remained in his cheeks and his ears were nearly glowing they were so red. But, to his credit, he kept his chin high and his hands neatly folded behind his back.

Konrad and Mackenzie were the first to arrive. Konrad let out a low whistle of surprise, but didn’t say anything. I explained to them what William had in mind and that was the reason for him standing naked in the middle of the room.

“William needs a haircut, too, Konrad,” I said. “Something boyishly cute, but not severe.”

Konrad studied William, who was again blushing under the renewed scrutiny. “Yes, I can do that certainly,” he said slowly. “Remove some of the present length and add some more layering. It’s not a problem.”

Before long the room was filled with the people I had sent for – all of them openly staring at William with interest after they had heard of his request.

“How are you feeling, William?” I asked gently. “These are all people you know, friends of yours. The crowd tomorrow will be mostly strangers.”

William looked around and the color in his cheeks brightened, but he squared his thin shoulders and looked right at me. “I can handle it, sir. It’s not so frightening,” he lied.

I told Matthew to make the connection to Sir Bernard and put it on the speakerphone. Moments later when the old boy’s voice came through the speaker, I again repeated William’s request. At first Sir Bernard was speechless.

“Sir Bernard, you’re on the speakerphone,” I said.

“Yes, yes – I could tell that from the echo,” the old boy said. “Is William there, now?”

“He is.”

“William, are you serious about this?”

“I am, sir, yeh,” William replied. I noticed that the more nervous William got the more his old speech patterns surfaced.

“Why do you want to do this, boy?”

“To show everyone that I’m proud to be your boy, sir,” William replied evenly. Looking at him, I could see that his eyes were shining with emotion. “It’s kinda like a weddin’ ceremony, yeh, with me willingly givin’ meself to you.”

“Well … well, I’m dashed,” Sir Bernard said. “Duncan, what do you think? Can he handle that?”

“Sir Bernard, William’s been standing here totally naked for over an hour,” I said. “There’s a roomful of people who are looking at him and openly staring at him. He’s handling it well. It’s clear to me that he’s serious – he wants to publicly demonstrate his commitment to you in front of an audience. I say you should let him go for it.”

“Then, it is decided,” Sir Bernard announced. “William shall be circumcised publicly tomorrow with me by his side.”

“Fine,” I said. “We have to get William prepared for tomorrow, so we’ll see you here at breakfast.” I broke the connection and looked over to William. “It’s a done deal, William. By this time tomorrow, you’ll join the ranks of the circumcised.”

To my amazement, William practically leapt at me thanking me for sticking up for him. He hugged me as tears ran down his face. I disentangled myself and motioned for Konrad.

“Take him away and get him prettied up for tomorrow,” I said. “Take your time, but don’t be all night. I want to eat before midnight.”

“I’ll do my best with him and return him in a short while,” Konrad promised. He looked pointedly at William’s underpants on the top of the pile of clothes and raised an eyebrow questioningly. I nodded and Konrad offered William the underpants for the trip down to the salon.

William took the underpants and examined them. “If it’s all the same to you, sir,” he said in a quiet, small voice. “I’d rather go down there exactly as I am now. After all, as you pointed out, I need to get used to being naked in front of other people. I might as well start now.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. I watched as he tried to put on a proud face as he followed Konrad from the room.

“He’s going to be okay,” Simon said softly from beside me.

“He’s going to be better than okay,” I said. “He’s had a great bunch of teachers.”

To be continued…