Wednesday Briefs #16: Growth, Part 14: Ghalib’s Decision, Part 4

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Ghalib’s Decision, Part 4

In which Ghalib is embarrassed, Bathasar is comic relief and Teman runs interference…

Ghalib

His heart started pounding at the thought. He’d certainly contemplated it often enough when he’d been alone at night, asleep on his pallet in the room he shared with the other male servants. He’d wondered what it would be like to be more… visible to someone than he was as a servant. Even temporarily, even for only a night, someone would call him by name. They would know him, he could serve them and only them.

He certainly hadn’t forgotten Teman’s words. He knew very well what the slaves gave up. But as he’d never actually had sex and wasn’t likely going to be able to unless he did something like this, he wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing. He thought he could live with that.

If you are requested by a mistress—a woman, you must please her. But… he thought, perhaps, he could handle that if he was taught how. And, just maybe, the conditioning he’d heard bits and pieces about might help with it. He didn’t know what all went on with that, but as he thought it through, his cock twitched, his heart sped up and he swallowed. Did he want this?

“Ghalib?” Teman asked and Ghalib pulled himself together. He might be wrong, it might not be what they were discussing.

Ghalib smiled. “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. What is it?”

“Obviously.” Teman chuckled. “Let’s go back to His Highness’s rooms. We will talk there. He should be through with Lord Atherol soon.” Teman turned to Cyrus and the two kissed deeply then he also gave Nadir a very long, thorough kiss. “And I will see you soon, yes?”

Nadir nodded, kissing Teman again. “Yes, yes.”

Teman grinned and stepped back. “I better.”

Ghalib glanced at Nadir then to Teman then back and bowed his head. “Uh… Good-bye.”

Nadir smiled. “Good-bye, Ghalib. I’ll see you.”

“Bye,” Cyrus said. “Nadir is right. We’ll see you.”

Ghalib raised a hand in a wave. “Uh, yes,” he mumbled not knowing why that would be, but he didn’t know what else to say. With another head bow, he turned and followed Teman down the stairs.

 

“Please, have a seat,” Teman waved a hand at one of the chairs by the fire. Ghalib frowned, but perched on the edge. Teman shook his head. “Please, relax. I don’t bite. Not even if you ask.” Ghalib blinked at him and Teman rolled his eyes. “It was a jest.”

“Oh!” Ghalib blushed and he shifted back a little, but not much.

Teman tilted his head and considered Ghalib who shifted back onto the chair more. Teman gave a nod of satisfaction then took a chair of his own. “Tell me, Ghalib, are you aware that… some people like pain?”

Ghalib frowned. “I have heard that, yes. It is rather difficult not to, here in the palace.”

Teman nodded, smiling ruefully. “Indeed, that is true. Then you are also aware that some people like to give it, including many of the nobility here.”

Ghalib nodded. “That… does not surprise me.”

Teman raised his eyebrows and paused, eyes going to the fire crackling on the hearth. “When I first came here… it seems so long ago.” He shook his head. “When I went through training, I was, of course, trained to accept pain.”

Ghalib’s eyes widened. He wondered why the idea of pain made his cock twitch. Pushing it off to consider later, he nodded at Teman.

“It is… designed to help the slave learn to deal with the pain. People, even people who like to take it, do so in different ways. Nadir, that you met today, enjoys pain. Not all pain, of course,” he said and Ghalib guessed he had a disbelieving look on his face. “No. There are good kinds of pain and bad kinds, even for people who like it. But Nadir likes pain from the beginning. I enjoy it, too, but I work through it and find pleasure later. Others simply learn how to handle it to get through it. The slaves are conditioned to stay aroused though pain, even if they don’t enjoy it. It’s another aspect of the slavery to consider.”

Teman looked back from the fire and opened his mouth to speak when the door opened. Ghalib turned around to see Bathasar step in. He spang to his feet and bowed low.

He heard Bathasar sigh. “Please, Ghalib, that is not necessary.”

Ghalib looked up, puzzled. “Your Highness?”

Bathasar shook his head. “If you wish to bow, that is fine, but please, I do not stand on ceremony in my private quarters. I try not to stand on ceremony most of the time, but no one seems to listen. Especially, however, please, in my private quarters, be comfortable.” He smiled and Ghalib felt himself relax a bit. Bathasar nodded. “Good. Please, sit. I am guessing you were visiting with my love. I must go clean up. I will return.”

“Bathasar,” Teman said, standing to follow.

Ghalib wondered if he should leave but before he could decide, Teman turned around. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay. In fact, have some wine and sit.”

Ghalib blinked at Teman but nodded his head. “Yes, yo—uh, Teman.”

Teman grinned and rolled his eyes. “We will be back shortly.”

Ghalib sat back down. He still couldn’t quite bring himself to sit all the way back. And even if he felt comfortable having wine, he doubted he could handle it in that moment. He tried to get himself to sit back in the chair farther and work to relax at least a little.

He let the last hour work through is mind, trying to make sense of all that he’d heard and learned. He couldn’t pretend any more he didn’t know what they were discussing. He was very sure that, at that moment, Teman was talking to His Highness about the possibility of Ghalib becoming a pleasure slave.

Despite all he’d fantasized about, despite all he’d heard, seen, felt, the idea that he actually could become one had never really occurred to him. Yet, he had a feeling that he would be facing that decision in very short order.

Could he give up his freedom? He thought about never leaving the palace again, about never having the chance to leave Behekam, much less Neyem. Yet, he’d had plenty of opportunity and still, he hadn’t left the palace more than a handful of times since he’d arrived. He’d never been outside of the city. And when he thought about not having that ability, he felt… nothing, one way or the other.

He’d certainly already considered the conditioning. His cock hardened embarrassingly fast already. But he knew there was more to it, even if he didn’t understand all of it. He’d seen the cages. Could he wear one? A collar?

Could he be—live—naked?

* * *

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