The Torn Contract

The flight from Newark Liberty International Airport to Cairo was nonstop. I slept as the airplane flew over the Iberian Peninsula. The sunrise visible through the window on my left woke me as the plane crossed the shoreline into Egypt. I could barely see the eastern edge of the Mediterranean from my position. An announcement in Arabic told the passengers when we could unbuckle our seatbelts after the plane had landed.

There was a newspaper stand on the way from the arrival gate to the baggage pickup. Most of the papers were in Arabic, the language introduced to Egypt about 15 centuries ago, but two were in English. Front page articles in those newspapers told of thwarted attacks in Rome planned by Muslim terrorists. My new master's voice stopped me from picking up a paper to read the details.

"Hello slave," he said.

"Hello Master Gabriel," I replied.

Gabriel wrapped me in his strong arms without another word. His lips found my mouth. I let them open it. His tongue explored the inside like a conquistador. I had to breathe through my nose, he took so long roaming every centimeter. Another organ of his pressed again me. It reached noticeably higher than my belly button. This knowledge made be a bit afraid of what I might experience that night. Fear kept my own organ from rising.

When my master released me, people were staring at us. "Open romantic displays between men aren't socially acceptable in Cairo," he explained, "but you should not worry. My stature will protect you as long as you are tied to me. You can be as flamboyant as you want without fear of attacks. Let me buy you some pastries. The trip must have exhausted you."

He brought me to a shop in the airport where we could sit down for some local dishes. For some reason, an old habit came back to me. Perhaps I was nervous in this new environment. I said the blessing over the pastry before eating it.

Gabriel slapped me on the cheek. "I gave you that pastry, no one else. Don't ever do that again."

My conscious bugged me, but I ignored it enough to quietly apologize. Gabriel accepted my apology with another open mouth kiss. He laughed, saying that I should open my mouth for a kiss every time he slapped me. Telling my conscious to back down, I agreed. He had fun walking me around the airport and slapping me whenever he found a crowd so that they could watch me submit to his kisses.

Gabriel's limousine picked us up outside the airport. We got into the back. His driver and a female servant sat in the front. The moment the vehicle started, Gabriel's hands were all over my body to inspect his new purchase. He didn't even bother to close the partition between the front seats and the back seats. Embarrassed, I moved my hands to stop him.

It was easy for him to pin my wrists behind my back. "You belong to me. You have no right to stop me from doing whatever I want to your body, whenever I want to and wherever I want to. It does not matter who can see me do it to you," he said.

There was a leather strap near each window so passengers could hold on to them for support when the limousine makes sharp turns. Gabriel tied my wrists to the one near me with his head covering. The limousine driver adjusted his rearview mirror to glance at my shame every so often. I could only watch as Gabriel unbuckled my belt, slid down my pants and underwear, and inspected my most private areas as far as his fingers could reach. My shoes and socks came off next.

It took a knife to remove my shirt without freeing my hands. I had come to Egypt with only a shirt on my torso, because I was rather secular by then. Gabriel enjoyed my breasts very much. I was physically fit, but not nearly as muscular as him. The nipple play was new to me. So was the shaving. There was cream in the compartment in the door. That and the knife made my torso silky smooth. He loved the feel of it so much that he had the driver circle a block several times to give him more minutes to caress it.

My master had me put my pants, socks, and shoes on when the limousine stopped. My boxers got tossed into the gutter along with the shredded remains of my shirt. I had to walk topless with Gabriel and his two employees through the open air market. My tanned neck and forearms stood out against my milky white torso. It was obvious to everyone that I was a foreigner. It was obvious that I was Gabriel's by the way he treated me in public.

He lead us to a back ally near the market. Some steps brought us to a basement shop with covered windows. Inside was a wide selection of women's lingerie. It was clear that the shop owner knew Gabriel from the way they greeted each other. His lack of amazement when Gabriel had me try on lacy slips suggested that he had done this to other men before. The shop owner chuckled when Gabriel picked out a white garter belt. As he was ringing up the purchases he winked at me and said, "I see that tonight will be a special night."

With the shopping out of the way, it was time for more pastries. This time, we sat at a table in the market with our snack. I tried to bring up the planned terrorist attack in Rome, but Gabriel slapped me before I could finish my first sentence. Well trained, I raised my head and opened my mouth for his kiss.

He spat into my open mouth instead. "Don't ever bring up that topic here," he said. "I find it offensive."

Confusion caused me to quiet my conscious. That was the last time I heard from it.

Our last stop of the day was Gabriel's home on the edge of metropolitan Cairo. It was a mansion. The master suite alone would cost millions in Manhattan. A suburban American home will have a "master suite", but Gabriel's master suite was truly worthy of that name. The door from the hallway opened right into the bedroom. The massive bed in the center of the room had four posts and a canopy. A pallet lay on the floor next to each side of the bed, presumably to make it easier to climb onto the mattress. A kitchenette made it possible to prepare simple foods without leaving the bedroom. A door on one wall lead to a lounge for watching TV or using a computer. A door on the other wall lead to a equally large walk-in closet. The door on the third wall lead to the bathing area.

The bathing area had multiple rooms. It was designed for entertaining as well as for hygiene. The antechamber had benches to make removing and donning clothes easier. A row of showers made it possible for several guests to freshen up at the same time. The hot tub was sunken into the floor. A couple of bath tubs on feet filled another corner. Marble and gold covered every surface. Heat radiated from the floor.

Some servants joined me in the bathroom to prepare me for my first night with Gabriel. They shaved my legs and cleaned me thoroughly. They dried my skin and applied creams to it. They placed the garter belt on my leg. My manhood went underneath the band to keep it pointing down. All the while, they explained to me what my new duties would be as Gabriel's slave.

That night was the first night anything had ever gone into my ass. Gabriel was bareback. His seed filled me. My sperm spilled down my leg unto the floor. The garter belt made sure of that. As I rested my head on my pallet, I looked sadly at the drops on the floor near me. That was the fate of my seed from now on, to be spilt. Gabriel was sleeping in his bed on the other side of my pallet. I missed him even though he was so close to me. He was even closer to me mere moments before. So close, that he was inside of me. At least his seed still lingered inside of me to connect me to him.

Before he entered me, he made me sign an agreement to make our relationship more official. I was naked save the garter belt. He had nothing on his body. There was much foreplay. I was so anxious to finally move on to the next step that I signed it without reading a word.

The next morning, there was a soft rubbery tube near my pillow. I could smell the scent of breakfast coming from the lounge. Gabriel emerged from there with a tray full of scrambled eggs. He sat on a chair while I sat on the pallet. We ate together like a couple.

My master explained to me that the tube was a prosthetic foreskin to replace the one I had lost long ago. It fit snugly on my soft penis. Hydraulics made the end close shut whenever my growing penis put pressure on the sides of the device. This ensured that I would never get the floor dirty with my semen again. I wanted to take the device off. Gabriel wanted me to keep it on. It turns out, the agreement I signed had a clause allowing Gabriel, but not me, to amend it unilaterally at will. The device stayed on.

Over the next few weeks, I became used to being Gabriel's possession. I was more than a toy to him. I was an investment. He whored me out to other men and enjoyed the money I earned him. He was always selective about whom he picked as a client to make sure that I was treated well. The entire neighborhood treated me well in some way or another. Whether I was walking down the street or buying something in a store, people treated me with respect, because I belonged to an important man. Our relationship was a convenient contractual agreement, like the arrangement American heiresses had with European nobility near the end of the Victorian Era.

There was, however, one night when things went too far. Gabriel sent me to a bachelor party. It was my first job that involved more than one client. The clients tied me up and gangbanged me. That moment woke up something in me. It was a voice that made me tell Gabriel the relationship was over. I told him that I was willing to fight him to the death if he did not tear up the contract.

Gabriel tore the contract to small pieces. He told me to shower while he got my original clothes and the key to my prosthetic foreskin. The shower was warm. The water was plentiful. The tiles were marble. The showerhead was gold. I walked out of the shower to see a pile of warm plush towels on a bench in the antechamber. My pants and socks were clean and dry nearby. My shoes and belt were next to them. The key to the prosthetic foreskin was in one of the shoes.

I am looking out the window as I dry myself. It is raining outside. The rain surprises me, because the rainy season was supposed to end in April. Something else was supposed to happen in April, but I can't remember what. I search my memory for that missing knowledge as I dry myself. I still cannot remember it as I open the door as naked as Adam. Gabriel is in his bed under the covers and wearing a suit. He is reading something in Arabic. I crawl into bed next to him. It is so dry and warm under those covers. It is so safe in his strong arms.