Oh Ghalib, my sweet stubborn boy, it’s not as bad as it seems, I promise.

Growth, part 1 ~ Growth, part 33



Ghalib was annoyed, frustrated, aroused, and… confused. He could deal with the frustration because it was caused by the arousal, which he had accepted as simply a huge part of his life now. His cock, though caged, seemed to want to stay semi-hard at all times.

He still woke with it straining against the cage. The first morning that had happened, he’d been intensely embarrassed because he’d seen none of the other male slaves with that problem. It wasn’t until he was in training later on that day that Nadir assured him it was only temporary and not a weakness or failing of any sort on his part. But it hadn’t yet subsided, his body hadn’t learned its limits, so he woke each morning with his cage full and ballsac stretched.

His cock was learning its daytime limits, though. Or it seemed to be. Though it filled the cage, it didn’t quite strain as much as it did in the mornings, for which he was intensely grateful.

The annoyance he felt over all of this came from his confusion. Every time he was consciously aroused, he thought of that damnable qadi. Within seconds of Nadir stroking his cock to full erection, Adel’s face and voice filled his head, and his skin tingled remembering Adel’s touch.

And when he wasn’t consciously aroused—like at night—Adel provided the semi-hard, semi-aroused state he seemed to stay in the rest of the time. His dreams brought him back to his knees in front of Adel. He woke with the taste and feel of Adel’s cock on his tongue and lips.

In the early morning hours, when the rest of the slaves snored, Ghalib allowed himself to admit he wanted more of it—more of the touch, the taste, the smell of Adel. He allowed himself to fantasize what that cock would feel like filling him. What Adel’s weight would feel like, pushing him into a bed.

He’d had to grip the edge of his cot tightly to keep from touching himself over those thoughts. He groaned softly as he strained, yet again, against the cage, frustrated at its limitations. In those moments, he actually looked forward to the conditioning sessions, despite the frustration and denial, because at least the cage was off then.

One positive to this was that his conditioning was going very well. It still took time for his cock to harden when the cage came off, but not too long, and it did so with only the anklet, bells, and incense. He no longer needed touch; his mind filled in the ghosted memory of Adel’s instead and shortly thereafter, he was hard and even sometimes desperate and needy.

He wondered if he’d still think of that after Adel tired of him. Or if he would need reinforcement conditioning when he no longer had Adel to think about.

Or would he still think about, lust after… want… Adel when he knew Adel no longer wanted him?

He couldn’t bring himself to answer that question. And while the room was dark, the slaves snored, and Rasheed watched over them silently, Ghalib refused to think about that. He let himself fantasize instead, about serving Adel for a very long time.

Of course, once the sun came up, he couldn’t bring himself to admit he was looking forward to the end of training. He would not answer the thinly-veiled hints Cyrus and Nadir dropped that he might be happy to serve Adel. He wasn’t ready, in the light of day, to actively think about wanting the qadi.

Adel still infuriated him, still roused his ire in ways no one else did. It made no sense to him, why he would react so strongly to the qadi. He’d never felt like that before. Then again, he’d never been so aroused by a simple touch from someone, either. His mind went back to that first meeting, the night of the Midwinter’s Feast and the violent arousal that had coursed through him just from Adel touching his arm.

He couldn’t figure it out and the confusion mixed with the arousal frustrated him. He finally gave in one evening during a break in his conditioning and spoke his confusion out loud. Cyrus had gone to help a sick slave and he was alone for the moment with Nadir.

Nadir looked thoughtful as he gave Ghalib the light touches he used between the conditioning sessions intended to keep Ghalib’s cock hard. His dark eyes held humor and something else Ghalib couldn’t quite figure out. “Have you considered there might be more than simple sexual attraction to him?”

Ghalib couldn’t begin to contemplate something like that. He scowled. “Who says I am sexually attracted to him?” he asked, instead.

Nadir laughed. “Ghalib, my friend, I saw you when you returned from your meeting with him. Your face held the burns of his rough skin, your lips were swollen and your body belied your need.”

Ghalib’s cheeks heated. He knew he couldn’t argue the evidence that he’d done something. “I was still aroused from the conditioning.”

He knew he hadn’t fooled Nadir, who’s smile only widened. “Indeed. I was aware he didn’t allow you release.” That caused Ghalib’s face to burn even hotter. He sobered a little and reached up to turn Ghalib’s face to him. “Tell me truthfully, do you not want his attention?”

Ghalib sighed. He didn’t want to tell Nadir—or admit to himself—the truth, but he wasn’t about to lie, either. “I do,” he whispered. “I… I do not understand him. In one breath, he shows his disgust for the slaves and in the next, tells me I am training to please him. I don’t understand!”

Nadir’s eyebrows went up. “He told you that, did he?”

Ghalib blinked then bit his lip. Adel hadn’t told him not to speak of it with Cyrus or Nadir, but it was out now. He nodded. “He did. He said he would be my first.”

The smile came back, wider than ever. “So that is how it is. I see.” He nodded, turning his attention to Ghalib’s cock again. Ghalib sucked in a breath as he was brought back to the sharp need quickly. He groaned as Nadir worked him over, felt his balls tightening ridiculously fast. As soon as his eyes slid closed, Adel waited for him, heated eyes fixed on him. He felt, not Nadir’s hand on his cock, but Adel’s, teasing him, telling him he was not allowed release.

Who are you seeing?” Nadir whispered.

* * *

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