Date: Thu, 07 Aug 2003 19:43:43 +0100
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Changed Life - Chapter 18

This is the 18th chapter of Part One of a trilogy of
novels of gay sex.

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

This story is entirely a work of fiction and all rights
to it and its characters are copyright, and private to
and reserved by the author. No reproduction by anyone
for any reason whatsoever is permitted.

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

Contact points:
eMail: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com
Web: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories

The Changed Life by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 18 -- Routines

I love the change my weekends bring and my weekend had
started well. I had broken Greg Logan far more quickly
than I had hoped to believe. I therefore had a little
more time on my hands that Friday morning and
afterwards. I called Aziz in to discuss the running of
the Aloe Palace, a place I was getting to like more and
more as my home.

Cook was really getting to be a pain, so I told Aziz
about Flavio being able to cook. So for the next week,
Flavio would be in the kitchen with Cook to see how
things got on.

The slaves' day was now organised as follows

06.00 piss, shit, showering and shaving of the buddy and
then vice versa. The shaving of body hair was clearly
laid down. Then each buddy would milk the other, as the
other wanted it, but they were not allowed to fuck. Some
preferred to be sucked off, some pulling themselves off
while being rimming, some were sucked and finger fucked
off, one merely sat on his buddy's chest and jerked
himself off.

06.25 breakfast on two of the slave biscuits with lots
of water.

06.30 manual labour and tasks until the heat of the day
started outside in the farther fields.

10.30 light tasks inside the buildings and out of the
heat.

12.30 two hours hard training in the gym and swimming
pool. Ali, Jiri and Ross, of all people, had to learn to
swim from scratch. It turned out that Rolf had been an
amateur swimming coach and taught them for half an hour
each day until they could do twenty lengths of the pool
unaided.

14.30 two hours of learning. This was new to Aziz. But I
thought it was essential. It was fine to gesticulate to
Yuriy in the privacy of the Villa in pidgin heaven knows
what, but it is quite another matter to have to give
specific orders which all will understand.

First, I wanted all who had no Arabic to learn the basic
3,000 words of the language so that they could be
understood by others. So each day, they would learn 20
new words and be re-examined on twenty of previous days.
Aziz took great delight in doing this for half an hour.

I then had Bob and Ross teach those who had no English
to speak it. Bob was assigned Ali, Dumi, Jiri and
Vitali, while Ross was given Radek, Rolf, Flavio and
Yuriy.

After a week, Greg asked humbly if he could teach
English as well. So, Dumi and Yuriy came over to him on
a trial basis. There was some sort of contest between
them all to see who could excel over the others.

16.30 manual labour in the fields and gardens nearer the
Palace.

18.15 piss, shit, shower

18.25 dinner on two of the slave biscuits with lots of
water.

Although three biscuits might have done for Food and
Drink and the two layabouts, Aziz had them working so
hard that I agreed with him that all should have a total
of four biscuits each day.

While some Masters can be cruel, I felt I was not, and
Food and Drink had the job during the working hours of
making sure that plenty of water was available to all
outside working in the heat.

18.30 two hours easy training in the gym and relaxation
at swimming pool.

20.30 was thirty minutes of making love to your buddy in
any way that you, not he wanted, but no fucking.

As Greg was without a buddy, I assigned him Food and
Drink until they were to return to Tariq, their true
owner. In their case, it was the other way round. They
really initiated him to man to man sex in every aspect
of cumming and wanking and fucking. With their total
lack of inhibitions, when a cry could be heard from the
pens as I did often look and listen it, it was more
likely from Greg as one or other of them found a new
sensitive spot on him as they were the only ones allowed
to fuck.

The two layabouts seemed contents with their own company.

21.00 the lights when out, and the buddy slaves spooned
each other until a new day.

Two things happened on the Saturday of that weekend.

The dentist, Dr. Hal Thiecke dropped by, to see how my
own teeth were behaving after their capping. He was just
about to go on vacation to the eastern US seaboard and
for a walking trip down some trail in the Appalachians.
I was in fact delighted to see him and called in his six
former patients and he was delighted with the over all
effect.

I told him that I had acquired a further four slaves,
they being Jiri, Ross, Ali and Greg, and upon my
invitation said they would be his first patients in
September on his return, which they were in due course.

The second visitor for the weekend was Gus Jennings,
waving his new black onyx fly-swish, and saying that
Tariq would be delighted to sell to me Food and Drink
and the two layabouts, whose names turned out to me
Mehmed and Mamoud.

Gus mentioned the price for the four and he added, `I
think, Master, the price is fair for the four of them.'

I wrote him a cheque for the four there and then and saw
that the actual price per slave was seven thousand euro.
Food and Drink must have been around the ten K euro
apiece and Mehmed and Mamoud, the two layabout slaves
about four K euro apiece.

I asked Gus and the dentist Hal to stay that evening
for dinner, and knowing of Cook's complaints about
forgotten items of food and the inability to get them
quickly, I went out and spoke with Flavio and finally
got the message through to him with Bob's help that I
wanted him to do the dinner.

His only questions were for how many? I held up four
fingers as I wanted Aziz to be present as well. And at
what hour? I said for seven. He flashed me and Bob a
dazzling smile and dashed off to the kitchen. I told Bob
to go quickly and tell Cook to take the evening off --
the driver would leave him in to the city - and that
Flavio would do us something. Cook took off like a flash
and said he would be back on Monday, which was fine by
me.

Gus said that had a suggestion for me, but that I might
want to think about it. He had heard of an overseer who
had become available and was looking for a position as
preferably a stables overseer like himself. The man was
Russian and had been a major in the army in the
transport section. His name was Ivan Urlov.

I asked how he had become available, and Gus said that
he had killed two slaves who had failed to respond
quickly enough to training. The Master of the slaves was
particularly annoyed not only at the financial loss but
at the inconvenience of having to have two new slaves
trained from scratch. He and his stables overseer had
separated.

There was a message somewhere in there, that while
overseers had extraordinary powers, there were
limitations both expressed and unspoken in that power
and Ivan Urlov had overstepped that boundary. I said
that Urlov should visit me during the week and that we
would speak.

Hal and Gus got on quite well. Both had visited various
places in the States and were soon talking most
amicably. As dinner time approached, I call in Aziz and
asked him to join us. He was very surprised at the
invitation obviously a first in his book, and even more
surprised when we went in to find a table laid out -- by
Bob, it appeared -- with the Aloe Palace finest wares.

The dinner was remarkable and Hal even asked who the
chef was. We had a cold cucumber soup with cream and
fennel. This was followed by an amuse-gueule of caviar
on ice -- I had not known we had caviar in our stocks. A
rack of succulent lamb followed with a rosemary herb
dressing sitting in a bed of haricots verts, mangetout
and baby sugarsnap peas, with saffron and chickpea
risotto. Dessert was a vanilla pod ice-cream with a
double chocolate sauce, and Earl Grey tea and plain
biscuits. The wine had been a Fleury of the early
nineties. Aziz would only take water throughout.

Hal Thiecke said, `I don't think I have eaten this well
since I last dined at Claridges'.

`I know I haven't since I arrived here in Dahra,' Gus
Jennings commented.

Aziz merely helped himself to more Earl Grey. He did not
praise slaves and knew who had cooked the meal.

Gus Jennings made his excuses quite early and left. Hal,
I invited to stay overnight and not return to the
capital until the light of morning. I mentioned a
problem of one of the slaves, not mentioning Flavio's
name, of having a very distended rectum and anal cavity
from some severe fist fucking and if he had ever heard
of anything that could be done about it. He said that he
had not but would ask a surgeon colleague.

As it so turned out, there is a surgical procedure for
tightening the anal passage, as indeed for the vaginal
passage, and vice versa. When I found out that it was
possible, I had the best surgeon in Dahra attend Flavio
in the slaves' section of the capital hospital in mid-
August when most of the private clients were away and
the surgeon was not busy.

I had the pleasure two weeks after Flavio's release from
hospital of bedding him and his cries of joy resounded
through the Aloe Palace as his g-spot was hit with
precision and regularity. As I am an expert lover, I was
not worried about hurting him, but I told Bob to treat
Flavio's ass with tender loving care as soon as Bob was
permitted to fuck ass. They having become fast lovers,
and Bob had received some private rimming lessons from
Ali Tasani, or so I thought.

The meal which had been such a success, thanks to
Flavio, was sufficient for me to confirm him in his
position of cook, though I said to him that the meal was
only passable and that he must try and do better next
time, he seemed pleased with the modest praise.

Cook returned the following week to the capital and took
up a position immediately in one of the Embassies with
glowing references from the Bank! It is curious how we
unload our problem people with a good reference.

Flavio, on the other hand, prepared a weekly list which
was delivered each Monday by my driver to the
supermarket and which was in the trunk of the car that
evening. Flavio never stated that he was ever missing
anything after each weekly purchase. Which just goes to
show.

The following week Ivan Urlov arrived in the afternoon
before I had got back from the Bank, and had walked
around the yards and stables and the fields and gardens.
He had met various of the slaves while working and had
put some of them through their paces, as he said to me
`to see how fit they were'.

`And were they?' I enquired.

`No, Master, they are not.'

I held my comment thinking of the work Gus Jennings had
done on them and on the fact that he himself had recommended
Urlov for working at the Aloe Palace, a fact which Urlov
knew.

We had some finger food for dinner as they say. It had
been a particularly hot day and a large meal was out. I
asked him to stay overnight, as I had things to do, but
that at dinner the following evening, if he could spare
the time, we might perhaps be able to make a decision.

I let him know that I might wish to change the direction
of things at the Aloe Palace which might or might not
require a stables manager. It was how I finally would
approach the running of the fields and the grounds.

Out of courtesy, I asked him if he wished to bed one of
the slaves. He said he would and that he had seen a
Czech, whose name he could not remember -- I thought that
was a lie -- but let it go. He describe Radek, whom I had
sent up to his room in the servants quarters.

I went, as my custom has been every evening I am in the
Palace, to see the slaves before being bedded down.
Normally, they stand in `display' mode after their
ablutions and then go in with their buddy for the night.
However, Yuriy was the last to go in. In fact, he was
deliberately hanging around not to go into the communal
cell, not that it is locked, but merely its open barred
door closed over for the night.

Yuriy suddenly fell at my feet, kissed them and putting
my foot on the nape of his neck. He was trembling and
saying, `Yuriy good. Yuriy Master. Yuriy Radek.' It was
to the limits of his English vocabulary. He was clearly
upset about something and I finally made sense of what
was trying to say.

Ivan Urlov had met him that day in the fields where he
was working. I remembered that Yuriy being Kazakh spoke
Russian and had been a captain in the Kazakh army, so no
chicken he, as his tight asshole had proven when first I
made his acquaintance.

Urlov had made him run on the spot as they say for 30
minutes in the full sun and then said that he would have
him and his Czech lover, a fact which he had discovered
somehow, any time at all when he became stables overseer
to the Master. And I had unwittingly given Radek over to
Urlov for the night!

I calmed Yuriy down and said that he and the Master were
like two intertwining fingers and showed him what I
meant putting my two index finger in a link. He nodded
vigorously. And he imitated this that he and Radek were
like two intertwining fingers, saying `Yes, Master. Yes,
Master.'

Just about to leave, I saw that Greg was still standing
at the door of the cell where Food and Drink were. He
came over and to my surprise took the `display'
position. He should have in fact taken the `obeisance'
position, but it was late and I was not going to argue.

`Master, permission to speak?'

`Rest. Yes, what is it?'

He went to the `rest' position.

`Master, permission to speak frankly?'

Now I was intrigued, and nodded affirmatively.

`If Urlov stays, Master, slaves will die.'

`Why do you say that?'

`Because I have seen his type before?'

I noticed that his nipples were exceedingly engorged and
one was actually torn, having been previously bleeding.
I went to touch them and he jerked back instinctively
before my fingers touched his chest.

`What happened here?' I asked.

`You can say, Master, that he had me on my knees in less
than a minute.'

`Go to sleep,' I replied and switched out the last light
on the way out.

The following morning when I had finished breakfast, I
enquired from Aziz where Ivan Urlov was and found out
that he had gone to look at the fields.

`And where is Radek?' There were glances between Aziz
and Bob who were both present.

`He is in the stables, Master,' Aziz replied.

`Master, he flogged Radek. Radek had to be carried out.
He could not walk this morning. The Russian flogged him
because he would not scream,' Bob blurted out.

It is one thing to give a guest a bed companion. It
quite another matter for the guest to abuse hospitality,
even if that hospitality is nothing more than a slave.

I went over to the stables, and the first sound I heard
was crying. Yuriy weeping, tears freely flowing down his
face, was on his knees beside Radek who was prostrate on
the pallet bed. From his neck to his lower back and backside
and thighs was a mass of weals. There was not a single cut
in the flesh. It had the flogging of a very experience wielder
of a cane.

Yuriy looked up at me in his helplessness and continued
to try and pour some cold water on Radek's caned back.
On a sudden impulse, I went over and looked between the
cheeks of his bum. His hole was still intact.

Aziz was at my side and I told him to get something to
relieve Radek's pain which he scuttled off to do. I was
due in the Bank for some important meetings, so could
not delay long. I shouted for Vitali who spoke Russian
who came running and told him to get Ivan Urlov that I
would be waiting at my car, as I was in a hurry.

I waited some three or four minutes for Urlov to be
found and to get around to the front of the Palace. When
he arrived, I told him that I would not be hiring him as
my stables overseer. I was still seething at his
actions.

He said slyly, `Have I done something to displease, the
Master.'

`No, overseer, it is not what you have done. It is what
you not done. You failed to tell me you are a sadist.
And you failed to ask my permission to flog one of my
slaves without even being in my employ. Good day.'

I never saw him again. But I subsequently heard, from
Tommy Elford in Tokyo of all people, who has the strangest
of contacts in the former Soviet states with access to the
most arcane of databases, that Ivan Urlov was never in
transport but in a special interrogation unit where
there were as many dead after interrogation as there
were alive, and that he was also HIV positive.

When I heard this I closed my eyes and was glad that
Radek had not been raped as well. But I nevertheless had
Radek checked out subsequently. The last thing I wanted
would be to have a rampant disease among the slaves.

To be continued...