Date: Thu, 26 Feb 2004 18:32:34 +0000
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Dahran Way - Chapter 22 - Gay - Authoritarian

This Chapter 22 is the last chapter of a novel about slavery and gay sex.

Keywords: authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training,
submission, gay, sex

This story is entirely a work of fiction and all rights to it and its
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The Dahran Way

Chapter 22  The importance of mercy

                  Jerzy Zarchewicz

 A wide-eyed David Tuttle arrived at the Bank, having been collected by
Jack and Faisal at the airport in the limousine.  Jack was overjoyed to
see his cousin and vice versa. They were chatting thirteen to the dozen.

 When he arrived from the airport, full of smiles, David said `Sir
Jonathan, I don't know what to say. When I went to collect my tickets as
your fax said, it was for the New Concorde. I told them it must be a
mistake and I wouldn't be able to pay that type of prices. But they said
it was all paid for. The same at the tailors and the shoemakers. I also
collected the packet you wanted from Taspells, the jewellers.'

 He was so excited; there was no stopping him.

 Jack was just looking at his cousin and laughing.

 `Now, David, it is my turn to laugh at you. You'll get used to Uncle
Jonathan's very strange ways of doing things.'

 Business at the Bank was almost over, so we headed home to the Lime
Palace giving David the longer scenic route on the way back on the
western road. He was agog at the development of the capital city, the
architecture, some bridge that had appeared in an engineering magazine,
the city planning and layout. To each his own, I thought.

 As we finally got out onto the road proper, David Tuttle asked the
question that I knew he would have to sooner or later.

 `Sir Jonathan, you have not said what your project is?

 `I want you to help me build a large property, David, based on, or
rather copied from, where I live at the moment. I have two modest Palaces
side by side and I want you to build me a third.'

 David looked at me and then at Jack and then back at me again to see
where he had missed the joke.

 `Sir Jonathan, did you say `Palaces' in the plural and you want a
third.'

 `Yes. I live at the Lime Palace. For the moment, Jack, here, lives with
Fiona at the Aloe Palace. But I need another to be built on its own land.
I am already calling it the Lemon Palace. It will be about a hundred
thousand square feet with outhouses, buildings, compounds, etc. It will
keep you busy for certainly a year and a half to two years.'

 David's mouth had dropped open. Jack was laughing at his surprise and
leaned over and with a finger pushed his chin up and closed his mouth.

 `Sir, what is the budget for this, may I ask?'

 `About thirty million euro, I hope, but that will include the sports
facilities and the swimming pool.'

 `Olympic sized,' Jack chimed in with a smile.

 David was quiet for the remainder of the journey. I put my hand on his
at one stage, smiled and said `Don't worry, David, my lad. You will
have every help. Annan and Annan, the architects in the capital, will
help you. And the odd night you can tell me all about it.'

 There was wonder in David's eyes and laughter in Jack's.

 Faisal dropped David and myself off first at the Lime Palace, before
continuing on to the Aloe Palace with Jack, who would return later with
Fiona for dinner together.

 As usual, Food and Drink were in the courtyard waiting for my arrival,
together with Zoran and Jan whom I had training with them for the past
week to be body slaves to David.

 David's face was a picture when he stepped out of the limousine and saw
four naked men waiting for us.

 Food and Drink no longer really pranced, now that they had become
assistant overseers. They moved quickly and, with grace born out of years
of practice on others and on myself, took my briefcase and papers.

 `Welcome home, Master.'

 Zoran and Jan echoed the greeting, but made no move to come forward.

 `David, welcome to my home, the Lime Palace. These are my slaves, Food
and Drink, and these two, Zoran and Jan will be your body slaves while
you are here. I do apologise for not telling you that slavery exists in
Dahra. There is no way to explain it to strangers, other than have them
plunge in at the deep end.'

 `Zoran, Jan, this is Master David, my guest. You will serve him as you
serve me.'

 The two slaves came forward, knelt down and kissed David's feet and
still on their knees kissed his hand. If he had been hit with a crowbar,
he could not have appeared more stunned.

 Faisal by this time had two suitcases and a haversack out of the boot of
the car and the two body slaves rose and took the luggage.

 `I see that you will need a little time to take it all in David. I
think a long cooling shower will help you relax before dinner.'

 I said in Arabic, to Food and Drink, `make sure that his body slaves,
not you two, but his body slaves, make him relax at least twice.'

 Food and Drink smiled hugely. They were clearly enjoying their newfound
status as assistant overseers.



 When his friend and lover, Marek, was killed by the raiding attackers
from the north, I feared for Jerzy. He was in shock, cradling the head of
his dead friend when I saw him in the slave quarters that early morning.
Ricochets are not supposed to kill the people you love, but one had
killed his lover.

 Stan, my property overseer, had taken him in hand and under his wing.
Stan told me that they were not quite lovers yet and stressed the `yet'
bit, `but I am very, very fond of him and when he wants a quiet fuck, I
oblige as best I can.'

 `I thought you and Wik had a thing going for each other,' I commented.

 `Oh, we do, Boss, but Wik has a low sex drive, while mine needs daily
exercise and at times, more than once a day,' Stan smiled back.

 I think `quiet' would indeed have been the word that I would have used
to describe Jerzy. Nacho Cuesta, our eye doctor, had taken a bit of an
interest in him for some months, but has since gone back to living a busy
professional life treating the slaves.

 `Quiet' was the one word, which described the former Polish waiter to
a tee. Jerzy went about the grounds quietly, about the Palaces quietly as
he noted things to be done. He quietly went about his life. Also, I had
never known him to ask for anything. I even had Ben Trant check his file
to see, if apart from wanting Marek as his buddy, he had ever made a
request for anything.

 The investigators of the Buddy Foundation had not been able to find any
family of his in Poland, so we created a playground, as it was the custom
in such instances, in the primary school, which he had attended.

 It was therefore a little bit of a surprise when I found Stan and
himself queuing up to see me after dinner one evening, as slaves are wont
to do, normally requesting changes of buddy for the following month.

 When it was their turn, Stan merely stood back and while slaves normally
stand at `rest' when making a request Jerzy knelt down and kissed my
feet. I looked to Stan for a hint, but none was forthcoming.

 When he had straightened up sitting back on his hunkers, he said,
`Master, I want to ask for mercy.'

 I looked at him, the quality of his spoken Arabic surprising me -- in
the evenings we speak Arabic -- and again looked at Stan, who revealed
nothing in his glance.

 `Mercy, Jerzy? I don't understand. You don't need mercy from me. I
know you. I love you, not just as a slave, but as a friend like so many
others here.'

 `Mercy not for me, Master, but for those on the water-wheels.'

 Time stood still in the courtyard. The five, who were on the
water-wheels were the attackers, who had raided the Lime Palace and
killed his lover. They had been condemned to slavery in my ownership by
the Sheik himself. When I die, they would die the following day. Their
punishment with me for the rest of their lives, since their assignment to
me by the Dahran courts for punishment, was to tread five of the eight
water-wheels on the estate and on the date each month corresponding to
Marek's death, they received thirty two strokes of a camel-cane.

 `What precisely do you want, Jerzy? And more importantly have you
thought it through?'

 `Master, it has taken me all this time to get over Marek's death. I
don't want to live the rest of my life hating these attackers and being
angry with them for killing my lover.'

 It was the first time that he had ever mentioned in my presence that
Marek was his lover.

 `Yes, Master, I have thought it through. Just have mercy on them and
assign them other duties. Nothing else.'

 `Do you want them not to be caned either each month?' -- they were
getting thirty two strokes once a month on the date of Marek's death.

 `No more caning, Master.'

 `And for yourself, Jerzy.'

 `Nothing, Master. I have all that I want,' and he looked back at Stan
and smiled, who gave me a funny smile and waggled his eyebrows up and
down, as if to say `there you have it'.

 I knelt down beside Jerzy and hugged him.

 `Jerzy, you have a beautiful soul to be able to forgive so much. I
would have left them there another five years, at least. I'll have them
taken off the wheels one at a time over the next five weeks and put into
training in the compounds at the Lemon Palace. In that way they won't
disturb the training programmes in place. But they are murderers and like
all new slaves to the Lemon Palace, I will have them half-gelded. Each
will lose a ball.'

 Jerzy smiled and laughed a little, `I think, I think, Master, that
Marek would have liked that. Each of them will lose something precious
just as I have lost something precious in Marek.'

 I looked at Jerzy and thought that in all of us at times there are
hidden depths. In retrospect, I think that this was one of my better
decisions in all my time in Dahra. Hate and anger are poor friends.

 When I told Rob Kuiper and Niko Ziel that they would be getting one of
the water-wheel slaves per week for training over the following weeks so
as not to interrupt the inflow of EU prisoner slaves, I said, `if you
flog them half-way round the compounds and back again, I won't lose any
sleep.'

 Rob looked at Niko and then said, `Boss, they will be treated like all
trainees being processed. They'll get their fair share of flogging.'

 And I thought that he might have emphasised the `fair' bit, a little
more than the rest. But it might have been my imagination.

 `When each one is finished with the training, each is to be brought to
Jerzy for assignment as their overseer,' I said.



 Stan told me afterwards that when each arrived for work to be assigned
to them, there was little likeness to the slave, who had been on a
water-wheel for months on end and that the first thing Jerzy did in each
case was to beckon them and have them follow him out to Marek's grave.
If they did not understand what was going on and where they were going,
they did when Jerzy left some flowers that he would collect on the way on
his lover's grave.

 One thing, which did happen with Jerzy and his five former water-wheel
slaves was to put each of them, with Komil's permission, on a clean up
job of the Lemon Palace grounds for three months, clearing debris and
surface rocks and if Komil was short a slave for a particular job, he was
able to call on Jerzy.

 Jerzy housed his five water-wheel slaves at the Lemon Palace and since
none of the other slaves was volunteering to be their buddies, Jerzy
assigned the two youngest to the next two youngest and the oldest of the
five, who had, in fact, been the ringleader of the entire group, had the
early morning duty of sucking off his four co-conspirators and in the
evening of offering his ass to each of the four each night before they
bunked with their assigned buddy.

 Every time I think of mercy and its importance, I think of Jerzy
Zarchewicz. Even though many of the ways of Dahra are strange to the
outsider and particular to the slave, certain great and basic qualities
remain to surprise us all and I think one of these is mercy. For me, at
least, mercy also forms part of that list of important matters, which
constitute the Dahran way of doing things, at least at my Palaces.



End of chapter 22

The End



The third and final novel -- The Dahran Rebuttals - of this second
trilogy of The Dahran Stories will be serialised in late March 2004.

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      I would like to take this opportunity to thank the many readers who
have emailed me during the course of presenting The Dahran Way over Nifty
and YahooGroups.

The fact that the storyline is both gay and erotic is merely the medium
to the ultimate end -- the telling of the story. That readers have
enjoyed the story -- and have said so to me -- is the greatest compliment
that I, as storyteller and author, can receive.

Thank you.

Gerry Taylor