Date: Sun, 30 Jan 2005 13:51:53 +0000
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Seventh Desert - Chapter 19 - Gay - Authoritarian

This is the nineteenth chapter (ex twenty two) of a novel about
present-day slavery and gay sex.

Keywords:  authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, retraining,
submission, gay, sex

If you are underage to read this kind of material or if it is unlawful
for you to read such material where you live, please leave this webpage
now.


   Chapter 19 -- The fine-tuning of training


   A small number of slaves is always in some sort of trouble; never
serious stuff, simply annoying to their assistant Overseers, or worse
still to their Head of Household or Stables, with situations of lateness
and the likes.


   Because of the level of consistent manual labour on the farms, the
slave biscuit diet had been expanded to include our own vegetables in a
type of soup, or ratatouille at the evening dinner. Flavio coped
marvellously well in the kitchens, part of which was dedicated
exclusively to preparing each day a hundred and fifty kilos of the
vegetables in season on the farms for the slaves.

  One of the advantages of well-trained Overseers and Heads of function
is that there is an over-flow system as we call it. If a slave is not
busy, he must offer his services first to the Head of Household where he
is based and then to the Head of Stables. So, one day a slave may be the
lead worker of a kofila and the next part of another helping out.

   I noticed this in the kitchens, where Zoran and Jan were now almost
permanently assisting Viktor and Efim with the preparation of over a
hundred kilos of our own vegetables for the evening meal of the slaves,
as David Tuttle was normally out of the Lemon Palace and gone to work in
and around the capital city. I also noticed that Marko now had a
permanent helper in young Luke Peoples learning how to prepare desserts.

   The first day I saw them there, it also happened that there were two
others whom I did not recognise, making up the half dozen on the
vegetable preparation. One of these two unknowns had two fresh weals
across his buttocks. As I passed him by, I put my hand in the middle of
his back and as he caught my eye, I let my hand slide down to his
backside and lightly let my fingers run over the two weals.

   Luke let out a guffaw at this, but kept his head down doing whatever
he has doing.

   `Why were you punished?' I asked the slave and before he could
answer there was the sound of a big snore from the far side of the
kitchen, again from Luke's direction, but I could not be sure. The
teenager was the only one smirking in that area where he and Marko, Sevil
and Vidor were working

   `I overslept, Master.'

   He saw my upraised eyebrows.

   `Twice, Master.'

   `And only two strokes for that. You have a very kind Overseer. Others
would have given you six at least.'

   There was a further smothered laugh from the far side of the kitchen.

   `Yes, Master. Flavio is a good Overseer.'

   `There is something we must remedy. Get me a cane.'

   The slave's eyes opened wide and I saw Flavio looking at me. The
laughter and sniggering had died down. The slave went over to Flavio who
reached inside a counter press and drew out a three-foot camel-cane.

   It might have been my imagination but I thought the slave was slower
coming back to me than he was going over to Flavio, but he handed me the
cane.

   `Bend over and hold your ankles.'

   The slave complied immediately, his smooth wrinkle free skin the
colour of light coffee drawn tight on his back, the vertebrae of his
spine each individually creating a small mountain range of bone from his
mid-back to his coccyx.

   `Luke. Come over here.'

   There was glacial silence in the kitchens.

   Luke Peoples came over, his eyes blinking rapidly.

   `Now, tell me, Luke, what was so very funny about anyone getting
punished for sleeping in?'

   `Nothing, Master,' he said, very quietly.

   `And laughing at the marks of punishment on a slave?'

   `Nothing, Master,' again spoken even more quietly.

   `Do you see how the slave is bent over in the position to receive a
punishment?'

   `Yes, Master.'

   `Bend over beside him in the same way.'

   Luke's eyes were blinking now even more rapidly, but he did as he was
told.

   I tapped the bent-over slave on the head with the cane, who
half-twisted his head to look up at me.

   `Do you wish to punish this slave for laughing at you?'

   `Oh, no, Master. It was nothing. I deserved my punishment.'

   I jerked my head to indicate to him to get out of the way.

   `Indeed, you did. But you did not deserve being laughed at.'

   The slave half-shuffled back and over towards the safety of Flavio.

   `Flavio, it is your kitchen and your right to punish or not as you
see fit,' I said extending to him the cane.

  `Yes, indeed, Boss, it is,' he said with a smile. `I think the same
for this pagliaccio as for the other, who really did deserve another two,
but it was a busy morning. Please step to one side, Boss,' he said as he
took the cane from me.

   Flavio landed two resounding strokes on Luke's teenage backside. Luke
shot up in the air at the second stroke clutching his bruised buttocks.

   `Flavio, he did not count off' I said. `Do you want to do it again
and have him count this time?'

   `Boss, with respect, if I may I'll keep those two strokes in reserve
for another day.'

   I nodded to Flavio at his respectful approach to the matter.

   `Now, Luke, in this Palace, you have just learned that you do not
laugh at a slave who has been punished; secondly, you must always count
off the strokes and thirdly, you must thank the Overseer who has punished
you for doing his duty in correcting you.'

   `Thank you, Flavio, for correcting me.'

   `And what about him?' I said motioning with my head towards the
slave he had been laughing at.

   `Sorry, for laughing at you.'

   The slave nodded back that he had understood at least the apology and
seemed to be a bit wary of saying or doing anything else.



   By the time, the evening meal had come around; the rumour had it that
all the slaves in the kitchens that day including the Overseer had been
personally punished by the Master. That there were a couple of weals on
two of the kitchen slaves' backsides did nothing to stop the bushfire
comments.

   Some rumours are too good to contradict, especially when they help
fine-tune the training of the Palace slaves.



   With the two Russians at the Lemon Palace, I was more concerned with
their general health than anything else. Fotis had gone into the first
compound rather quickly after his tests.

   I asked Randy in charge of the surgery and hospital ward to have the
medical staff see me when the files on the three recent slave purchases
were ready.

   It was Miraldo Coelho who actually came across with them.

   `The Greek is perfectly healthy, Jonathan. The other two are
reasonably healthy slaves considering what they have gone through.
Perfect eyesight in both of them. Extensive dental work needed on both
according to Cal, who took these two beauties out of their mouths.'

   Miraldo pushed across the table towards me, two pieces of shining
metal. The bits, for that is what they were, were dental plates each
about five centimetre long and three wide, of very thin stainless steel
with holes.

   They looked clean and I presumed that they had been washed. I put one
in my mouth and almost choked as my tongue was forced to the bottom of my
mouth.

   `They were attached to molars on either side and apparently are put
in to stop the slaves screaming when being flogged or being kept
permanently quiet. Some beauties, eh, Jonathan?'

   I didn't answer Miraldo as I was dabbing my lips with a handkerchief.

   Miraldo pressed on, `However, from the medical point of view, Lev
Radkov, he's the older of the two, needs an urgent operation for a large
hernia; the other, Rurik Vasilov -- they are first cousins by the way,
Jonathan, did you notice the family resemblance? -- is going to need
reconstruction work on his anal passage. From what we understand he has
had various objects inserted into him over the years.'

   I told Miraldo to do what had to be done and to have them brought to
me when they had cleared all the medical hurdles. That finally turned out
to be the middle of September.

   For two slaves who had been in Dahra for all of four years, the Arabic
of Lev Radkov and Rurik Vasilov was all but non-existent. They had been
impeded from speaking by the bit-plates, but they seemed to understand
only about a hundred or so words or phrases. If it was that it was a lot.
I also thought that as former sailors they would have had more English,
but it was not so.

   I dropped over to Yves Fournier's surgery after about two weeks. A
slave, whom I did not recognise, was sitting at the ward desk and he
jumped up immediately and said, `I'll get Randy, Master.'

   I thought it was interesting that he did not say, `I'll get Dr.
Fournier' or `one of the doctors', but Randy, the assistant Overseer.

   Four of the ward beds were occupied. One slave had what I took to be a
dislocated shoulder in web-netting and was asleep; a second had a large
gauze on his head.

   `What happened to you?'

   `The doctor removed two cysts, Master. Thank you for asking.'

   The third bed was occupied by one of the two new Russian slaves lying
on his stomach with what had to be a cage over his lower back covered by
a sheet. He was fast asleep and slightly snoring every second or third
intake of breath.

   The fourth bed was occupied by the other Russian. Whom I did not yet
know. He too was fast asleep and his left hand was out holding the left
hand of the other slave.



   My reverie was broken by Randy's voice at my side, `Boss, I didn't
know you were coming over. I was in the laundry.'

   I smiled to myself. The hospital ward apart from the Palaces
themselves and the medical staff quarters are the only places where
sheets are used. It was Randy who had insisted through Dr. Fournier that
`a real hospital has real sheets', and so it has been almost since day
one.

   `These two?' I nodded in the direction of the Russians.

   `They have been attended to, Boss. Both have had a full day's
session with Dr. Thorson and they both now have a perfect set of teeth
each. Rurik here has had extensive anal surgery with Dr. Fournier. You
could have put a fist up there no problem and he was cut up internally.
It will take him a couple of weeks yet to recover.'

   I nodded at the other.

   `Lev had quite a hernia at the back of his balls, as big as a
mandarin. He'll be fine. They sleep a lot as you can see and quite
literally after every meal they go back to sleep as if they are trying to
catch up on a month's lost sleep.'

   Randy was smiling to himself as if at some private joke.

   `What's so funny?'

   `When they're awake, Boss, they keep touching the sheets as if they
have to prove that they are here. And they hold hands all the time they
are awake. It's strange.'

   `Not strange at all, Randy. They've just never seen such clean
sheets as in this well run hospital ward,' and I ran my hand over his
shoulders and gave him a pat on the back, `and as for holding hands,
maybe they just want to know that they are still together. Someone said
they are first cousins.'

   `Yes, Boss. We found that out when Ivan and Bob came over and Ivan
translated what they were saying. They have learned nothing here in
Dahra. They were not even sure whether they were still in the Gulf.'

   As we were speaking, the slave in the last bed woke up with a start
and blinked his eyes. They flew open when he saw me.

   `Boss, this is Lev.'

   I went over to the slave who had now dropped the other's hand and was
protectively clutching the edge of the sheet with both of his. He
appeared as skittish as a frightened colt. I just stood there for some
seconds until he seemed more settled and reached out slowly and touched
his chin, pressing down. His mouth opened slowly and the newly cleaned
and capped teeth shone out.

   `Has he seen these, Randy?'

   `I don't think so, Boss.'

   `Get me a mirror.'

   As I waited I let my hand rest on the slave's chest. I could feel the
hammering of his heart. His eyes never left mine, but they had stopped
their rapid fearful and almost feral blinking.

   Randy was back with a square surgical mirror.

   `Let him see Cal's handiwork.'

   I think Lev Radkov was shocked to see his own face after all these
years, let alone his new mouth of teeth. I leaned forward and pulled down
his lower lip and he half-smiled into the mirror at the sight.

   `Okay, Lev?'

  Again, he seemed shocked that I would know his name, but he answered
something of which I only understood the `okay' and the `spassiba'
bits. At least, he had said thanks for what the doctors had done. As I
was about to leave, he seemed to pluck up some more courage and pointing
to his companion still flat out to the world and then back to himself, he
repeated the `spassiba' bit. I got the message.

   Two weeks later the two new Russian slaves looked much improved. Their
infibulation rings and nipple rings had disappeared, as well as the rings
in their ears. I knew from past experiences that the hole in the
underside of the urethra would most likely heal over in about six months.
That of the nose might require surgery. Their teeth looked fine and the
medical reports said their operations had been a success.

   I wondered to what use I could put these two and told Randy to find
them something to do.



End of Chapter 19

To be continued...


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