Date: Tue, 12 Aug 2003 17:45:09 +0100
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Kazakh's Story - Chapter 8 & 9 - Gay Authoritarian

There are the 8th and 9th chapters of The Kazakh's
Story, a novel about slavery and gay sex in modern
times.

Key words: 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.

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

The Kazakh's Story by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 8 -- A good day

`Yuriy, Yuriy...' a voice is coming out of somewhere, out of
nowhere. It is in the distance. It is in my ear. `Yuriy,
Yuriy...', a hand is shaking me by the shoulder. I open my eyes and
the dentist is looking down at me. Something is not right. I feel very
hungry. It is not morning. It is now afternoon. I can see the angle of
the shadows through the back of the lorry. Yes, something is wrong, my
entire jaw and face are numb. I have been kicked in the face by a
Tibetan yak! Something is wrong. I need to take a piss, but I don't
need to take a piss. I look down my body and my corporal is at
attention.

`Yuriy, Yuriy...?' The dentist says something, with `Ok? in it. I
start to say something, but he waves his finger in my face. He brings
over a mirror and hands it to me, propped up as I am in the
dentist-chair, and I see my face. It looks frozen. He raises my upper
lip and I see the most perfect teeth staring back at me. There is blood
on one of them, and the dentist dabs it away with some cotton wool. He
pulls down my lower lip and my crooked teeth have disappeared to be
replaced by the most beautiful pearly white teeth not even possessed by
the film stars of Astrograd.

Again, the dentist says `Ok?' and this time, I just nod as he helps me
up from the chair. I see why my corporal is now at full erection. There
is a tube catheter in the sink with a plastic bag of at least two litres
of piss in it. No wonder my corporal is standing up if that tube has
been up his little eye all day!

I am getting back my bearings quickly. The dentist walks me down the
steps of the mobile dentistry, and we meet Cook coming down the steps of
the Master's house. He looks concerned for me, but smiles up at me as
if to tell me to be brave. The dentist takes some silver foil with
tablets stuck in it from the breast pocket of his greens and gives them
to Cook who has obviously been briefed as to what they are for. Cook
puts my arm over his tiny shoulder and other his arm around my waist and
leads me up the steps and into the house and through to the kitchen.

Although by the time we get to the kitchen, my senses have returned to
me, and a numb pain has started to kick in to my face, I wish that I had
further to walk with Cook's arm around my waist. He is a truly caring
person.

He points to the floor and I sit down. The smell in the kitchen is a
smell to end all smells. It is of beef and onions and I can even smell
pepper. My stomach starts to rumble and rumble and Cook smiles over at
me as he hears my body's approval of his cooking.

Cook fills a plate of something steaming from a pot. I am too low on the
ground to see. He comes over with the plate and a small spoon, and opens
his mouth which he expects me to imitate. My jaw will not work, but when
a spoonful of this delicious soup comes towards my lips, I pull open my
lower jaw with my hand. There is no way I am not going to miss out on
this food!

For all of forty five or fifty minutes Cook pours spoonful after spoonful
into my mouth. Twice he fills up the plate. I could stay there all
evening being fed, but the Master comes in and sees me and smiles and
says two words and `Yuriy'. Only when he has gone, do I realise that
he has said, "Well done, Yuriy!'

Cook then takes out the tablets and splits open two of the capsules into
the bottom of a glass and fills it a quarter full of water. I have to
sip the glass until it is all gone. From his gesture, I get the idea
that they tablets are painkillers, and then, he says `Sleep' a word
which I now understand.

I make it to my bedroom and into the bathroom where I suddenly have to
piss. How is that if I have pissed so much today into that plastic bag?
But a long satisfying piss it is and then I realise that I have to do the
other business as well, and seeing the douche nozzle beside the toilet,
decide that I had better practice with that as well from now one. Two
quick goes of the douche, and I have shit like a conscript with a dose of
the runs, long and hard and very liquid and smelly.

Something is strange. I am very tired. I make it to my bed and do not
remember getting up on it at all.

I awake to the most awful pain in my jaws and face. I see a glass a
quarter full of water, just like the one Cook had used in the kitchen
beside my bed, with two tablets beside it. I do what Cook did and split
them and spilled their inside powders into the water. I can actually
drink the powdered water now, my jaw is working a little. And I remember
no more until, the morning is well advanced.

I jump up. It is so late. The pain in my jaw is a dull ache but not
really a pain, more like a boxing blow gone wrong. I rush into the
Master's bedroom, but he is gone. His bed has been slept in. But he is
not there. A pile of yesterday's clothes on the floor, a wet towel on
the floor of the bathroom. What will he say for my sleeping in? Why did
I not awaken, as I always do? I rush out and down towards the kitchen.

The Master is sitting in the inner courtyard where a table has been moved
out, and he is working on some papers and sipping a coffee.

`Ah, Yuriy,' he says and get up to greet me. The Master get us to
greet ME, do you hear? He comes over. I am going to make obeisance to
him as it is the first time I see him today. But he does not want that.
He wants to see my face and my teeth. He opens his mouth and I try to do
likewise. I can manage about an inch and a half. He barely touches my
upper lip to raise it and then the lower one. With all his fingers, he
touches my the cheeks of my face and there is still a slight pain there.

`Beautiful, Yuriy, ...beautiful.'

I understand `beautiful'. The other word I did not. Suddenly the
Master stops and sniffs, he is smelling me. I have not shaved or
showered since yesterday morning. Nor did I even wash myself after
stuffing that nozzle thing up my backside. He turns me round on my feet
and pushes me towards the bedroom, and shouts after me to come and eat
when I have cleaned myself up.

I am learning words much more quickly now.

The following day, parts of my jaw and mouth were still sensitive, but I
bravely opened wide when the Master asked me to and saw that my Russian
dentistry fillings were gone and that the most magnificent set of capped
teeth were shining out.

When we made love that even, it was love not sex, as it was so gentle, he
merely concentrated on my ball-sack and perineum.

I say `merely' because the number of place he touched down there
between my legs were few. When I had come for a third time after a
decisive assault on my frennulum and on the rough skin behind my
sensitive deliciously acorned cockhead, I offered to do the same tot the
Master. The Master touched my jaw with his fingers and shook his head.

Cuddling up to the Master, I put his hand over my smooth chest and held
it there. After that I remember no more until morning.

Those first few days with the Master were the best days of my life for
such a long long time and each day made me wonder about him more and
more. He cared little about some things, and a lot about others.

He ate little food and drank almost nothing of the many bottles in an
actual bar which was in the Master's eating area. He spoke always
softly and in those days, never once did I see him angry.

I think it was two days after my teeth being done -- I know that I was
still running up to the Master's bedroom where there was a mirror almost
on the hour every hour to look at them, they were so beautiful -- when
just before six o'clock, a large white Transit van drew up at the gate
of the house, and was admitted.

The Master seemed to be on edge for some reason. In fact, he had been on
edge all day, even anxious perhaps. The van deposited two slaves in the
outer courtyard and the driver came up the steps with the delivery papers
to sign. I knew they were slave because they were naked. The Master
signed for them and waved the two slaves into the house.

Their arms were held behind their neck with a tight neck collar. One of
the slaves seemed to be taken aback on seen me in the background. The
Master himself went over to one of the slaves who was pale of skin and
fair, but looking like an East European, and unhooked the neck collar.
The slave dropped to his knees and put his head on the marble floor of
the hall. That was one slave who knew how to make a fast obeisance to a
Master, I can tell you!

The other slave was different. He was also fair but taller and held
himself differently, like a free man who just happens to find himself
naked.

The Master started to unhook the slave's collar, and tears started to
stream down his slave's face. The Master took him in his arms like a
long lost friend, and the slave started sobbing `Boss, oh Boss, oh
Boss,..' and something else which I could not understand. I think
`boss' is another word for `master'. I remember it from an American
gangster movie. And then the slave fainted. Yes, fainted and slid to
the floor!

The first slave started to scuttle sideways, but I stopped him with my
foot. The Master called on me to help him bring the fainted slave and the
other one to the shower in my bedroom, and also mimed that he wanted them
washed, shaved, and cleaned inside and out, pointing to the toilet
douche.

The Master was back in ten or so minutes to review our progress and then
had me pat the still woozy slave down with one of his own white towels to
get him dry and what shocked me more than that was that he himself
supported the slave out and onto his own bed and covered him with a
blanket where he appeared to fall fast asleep as if exhausted! Who had
brought him from the hallway? Who had showered him? Exhausted, my back
passage!

The Master wanted to swim, so we went down to the pool. The other slave,
whose name is something like Jeery or Jiri does not know how to swim, so
the Master tells him to get up on a treadmill beside the pool and lets
him run on that. Again, I pace the Master, but his thoughts are
elsewhere. I paddle, I splash, I swim on my back (I am not good at
that), I do everything I know to stay beside the Master and have him look
at me and at least smile at me. I wouldn't bet a brass rouble but that
he is thinking of this new slave!

The Master soon tires of swimming, his arm is still not the best, and I
shower him in his bedroom. I notice that when he walks thought the house
he always wraps a white towel around himself if he does not have clothes
on. My Master had nothing in that department, I repeat, nothing to be
ashamed of!

Jiri attempts to follow us into the Master's bedroom where the slave is
still asleep, but I quickly send him to mine. I do not want the Master
distracted with a second slave. Being distracted by one is bad
enough! But when the shower is finished, all three of us go toward the
Master's eating area and we, the slaves, on to the kitchen to eat.

The Master has decided as usual to retire early and we follow towards his
bedroom. He tells me to go on to mine and Jiri, who obviously
understands English better than I is also sent into my bedroom.

The Master says `Good night' -- that I understand and he closes the
door between our bedrooms. He does not want me in his bedroom! He has
the other slave as his bed companion for the night!

I look around and Jiri is just standing in the middle of my bedroom. I
look at him and see not a man but a rabbit, just like you see them on the
North Road when driving in the middle of the night, frozen by the lights
of the jeep and the roar of the revving engine. He is petrified and,
like a little rabbit, his eyes never leave the immobilising sight of my
eyes for a second.

I walk over to my bed and even in those few steps my corporal is getting
hard. If the Master is not to be mine this evening, then the Master's
new little rabbit will have to do. I sit on the bed and recline on my
side. My manhood has now swollen and lying over my thigh like a large
ripe banana awaiting to be peeled.

I pat the bed beside me three times with the palm of my hand. The rabbit
swallows. I can see his throat apple bob up and down. I smile. I pat
the bed again and the petrified little creature comes and sits on the bed
with his back to my thighs.

With one swift movement worthy of any martial arts combatant, I have this
Jiri slave on his belly and I am kneeling between his spread legs. His
little hole glistens where I had lubricated it in the shower. I position
my engorged member directly just touching its entrance. The little
rabbit is trembling. In anticipation, perhaps. In fear, more likely.

I slip my arms under his outstretched arms and under his chest, and with
thrust worthy of a master swordsman I am in him and all seven powerful
inches of my corporal are up him. Before he can even cry out, my lips
are at his ear, and I whisper `Shhhhh' and I ride him with an abandon
born out of jealousy and envy of the slave who is now receiving my
Master's attentions next door, even if they are only those of the
Master's presence in the bed, even if they are only of the Master's
breath on the sleeping slave's neck!

I fucked the rabbit long and hard. I realise that I am not fucking him in
my mind, but fucking the slave next door who has wheedled his way somehow
in my Master's affection! I take no pride in the ride of the young
rabbit now that I recall it and it was only when I heard a sniffle at one
point, and looking round to his face, I could see tears of pain, and
humiliation and something else.

I am good at reading body language. The pain, I could understand. I had
ridden him hard. The humiliation I could read and understand. He was
being taken whether he liked it or not. And then it hit me, that
something else in his face, was shame. He had been a virgin and I had
taken him like ....like I know not what...I had taken him as less than a
man and as less than a slave, and certainly as less than a lover would
ever do.

I turned him over and with an index finger raised and then pointed to his
backside, I let my face ask the question. Yes, it had been his first
time with a man. A sadness came over me. I had allowed my jealousy of
my Master's care for another slave lead me to, I suppose at the very
least, hurt the little rabbit lying beside me.

I pulled him close and when I saw that the tears had dried, I spent the
next hour or so touching him in all the places where the Master had
touched me the night before. His pain and shame turned to sighs of
delight and joy at being the object, now not of my jealousy, but of my
loving care. In time, this Jiri Aron, as I found out his name to be,
would become not just fast friends, but he would be become of great
assistance to me. But at that time, I was to know none of this.



Within two days, the house was upside down again. The Master was moving
out of the city and going to live in the country. We are all going to
live in the country! The entire household, Cook, driver and myself and
the other two slaves were to move with him.

I can only say that when we did move -- in one of those vans which had
brought the two slaves to the town house -- and when I stepped out of the
darkness of its interior and into the outer courtyard of the Aloe Palace,
I was dumbfounded.

This was not just a house, it was truly a Palace so long that I had to
turn my head to see from one end of it to the other. And it was a shade
of lime-green. I loved that colour because it reminded me of Cook's
afternoon drinks.

While the others were housed, including the new slaves of whom I am so
jealous, in slave quarters at the back of the Palace, I again have my own
room -- almost half as big again as my previous room. The Master saw the
joy in my eyes as I put on the table my video, I am sorry the Master's
video which he bought for my use, the VCR and the language videos.



Chapter 9 -- A happy life

I was excited. I was exhilarated. I would be with the Master again after
three nights of not being with him. He saw my joy and said something to
me. I understood something about `Ross' the other slave who had been
in the Master's bed. I did not understand and the Master saw that, so
he mimed himself and Ross and a bit space between his hands -- yes, Ross
and he would be apart. Then my knees actually got weak, as he mimed a
finger to himself and then said `Yuriy' and put two fingers up in front
of my eyes, the middle finger over the index finger and said `Master and
Yuriy.' He was using my sign!

My day was complete. My happiness was complete. My life was complete. I
dropped to my knees and kissed his feet and then put his foot on the back
of my head and held it there and would not let him take it away.

He said, `Yuriy' once and then twice and actually smacked my back with
his hand to get me to let go of him. I did and I saw that he was not
displeased with my action but actually smiling and shaking his head. I
smiled back at him and shook my head as well, which made him laugh.

Life at the Aloe Palace was like a dream. I had to learn English, help
Aziz the head of the household who always had a hundred and one jobs to
get done, and who would carefully explain with Arabic and English words
and gestures what had to be done, and then never bothered me until
everything was completed.

I took his `Hmmrh' after a while to equal the Master's `Well done,
Yuriy', but the head of the household never once said my name, but would
merely bring me on to the next job.

But every night, I was the Master's and the Master was mine. He taught
me a couple of tricks to do for him and I would do them tirelessly night
after night and he particularly never tired of my squatting on his member
and clenching and relaxing my sphincter muscle on his erection.

I was something that he seemed to particularly enjoy, and when he was
really busy, he would even read his reports and papers in the bed while I
blissfully performed by gymnastic duty, which after a time became as
stress-free and easy as breathing itself, something like yoga the Master
told me. One thing for sure was that I developed a sphincter muscle so
powerful that a finger that went in there for whatever reason, would not
be released unless I so willed it.

Over the following weeks at the Aloe Palace the slave numbers increased
until we were about thirty and than a whole group arrived who spoke the
language of Swedishmanland. But the were not the Master's slaves but
the slaves of a friend of his.

The Master is sometimes away for two or three days and I have discovered
that he is a banker of importance. One day I saw him in the distance
with my old Master, Master Tariq, who is important in the government of
the country and they were talking like true friends. I know. I can read
body language very well.

One strange thing happened one night when the Master had gone somewhere
for dinner and he had all retired for the night. He has told me to sleep
in the slave quarters for that night and to seek out one of the slaves
for company. As we say in my country, never turn up your nose at the
gift of an donkey, and so I did.

It was late when the Master came rushing it and literally pulled three of
us out to the courtyard where he had a slave who was almost dead. He did
not seem to know what to do, and then I saw that the slave was burned by
the sun or had walked in the desert for too long and had been dehydrated
and scorched.

What was needed there was yak butter! How many times had I put it on the
shoulders of conscripts who thought that they could stand the midday sun
of the Pamir foothills and were foolish enough to strut around without
their shirts preening their fine young chests and torsos to their
comrades.

But here there are no yaks and therefore no yak butter, but in the
kitchens....! I signalled to the Master that I needed something in the
Palace, he said `yes, yes,' and I ran like the west wind to the
fridges in the kitchens. In the second fridge, I found the artificial
butter which the Westerns use in large plastic containers. I took two of
them and ran back to the Master.

He understood at once, because my Master is clever, and soon we were
spreading this yellow butter-like-food over the slave to whom the Master
had been giving sips of water.

The slave would survive the night and the Master appeared to be happy.

The Master continued to show his love for his slaves even in those early
days. Within a week of our arrival at our new home, the Aloe Palace, we
all had to go to see the doctor who arrived. I knew that I was well and
had never been so healthily fit, so I was a little surprised when I found
myself on the flat of my back and a laser machine pointing between my
legs. It was pointing not three inches away from the tip of my happy
corporal who shrivelled at the thought of what it could do.

But the doctor was not interested in my privates or my corporal at all,
but in the removal of two small moles, not the size of my smallest nail,
which have always been on the inside of my left thigh. He shook a can of
what I thought was armpit deodorant in the air, aimed it at the two
little brownish black moles, and sprayed them for a few second. Put the
can down on a shelf, and came back to me humming to himself.

The doctor's finger prodded the inside of my thigh. I could not feel a
thing there. It wasn't deodorant at all, but an anaesthetic spray!

He looked at me and said something. I did not understand. He raised
leather straps from the side of the table, and shook them in my face. I
shook my head. I did not need to be tied down.

Humming away, the doctor aimed the laser which came on just like in a
space film and a beam of very high light `touched' the first little
mole. I had to squint my eyes to see. I wanted to see, in case the
doctor decided to wander north and say hello to my privates and little
corporal -- who was being a total Cossack coward and had shrivelled right
to the back almost behind my balls and then some beyond.

I felt nothing. I smelt burning and it was the burning of the mole. Ten
seconds later it was over and the doctor had aimed the laser at the
second mole.

I was left with two little black spots on my inner thigh over which the
doctor put two bits of sticking plaster.

He then took my cock in his hand and pulled it up. My little corporal
was forced to come out of his hiding place. With his free hand, the
doctor made a scissors movement in the air. I can tell you I was off
that table and out the surgery door and my feet never touched the
ground. I almost upended someone at the door of the surgery.

I looked back and I saw the doctor grinning from ear to ear. I later
found out that his main patients were not humans at all, but he looked
after the horses of the rich! But what I did learn that was my Master
cared for me as I had cared for my recruits and my well-being even in
such trivial things as a blemish or two on my legs.

The care of the Master for us was also seen when he told of the rules of
the Palace for the slaves. Aziz, the head of the household, was in
charge and was to be obeyed as if the Master himself.

We were each to have a buddy slave as the Master called it. I was to have
my own buddy and a buddy would have me as a special friend and lover.
The only thing was that I had to move into the slave quarters and that,
I definitely, did not like. But the Master said to me that I would be
with him every second night or every third night and so it was.

The thing about the buddies was that what one did the other did, that
where one worked the other worked, that what one knew the other would
learn, that one would wash and clean and shave the other but not himself,
that each morning the each buddy would milk his buddy, that each buddy
would cut the hair of his buddy and put on the special gel for getting
rid of body hair with that cream the doctor had left.

If I could not be with the Master every night, I was determined to get a
good lover, nothing more than that, and I found such a lover in Radek,
the Czech. He was very well built where it mattered and he had a six
pack of abs like none of the others. He was also the one whom I nearly
knocked down in my flight from the doctor's surgery, where he was next
in line for treatment.

But what I like most about him was that he stood up for himself, in his
own way. One night we were going at it hammer and tongs, and I must have
bitten his cock a little harder with my new teeth more than I had
intended. It is difficult to gauge mili-millimetres of distance when you
have a new mouthful of teeth. Anyway, he yelped and sat up on our
pallet, tenderly rubbing his cock-head.

It was night so we were not making that much noise. But he reached down
between my legs and caught one of my balls so quickly I was unprepared.
He squeezed hard enough to hurt me, and I was going to shout he put a
finger on my lips intimating `no noise'. And then he squeezed again.
And held up two fingers. And again, three fingers. I was grateful that
his hand had only five fingers because each time the pressure on my poor
right private had been getting tighter and tighter.

Then must like that he let go, and grinned at me, I could see his grin
even in the poor light and wagged a finger of disapproval at me. And
then he kissed me full on the lips. It was a way of saying, so much, so
far, but not too far and not too much!

It was also that night, it was one of our first together that I made
another discovery and that was all the fault of not knowing enough
English.

I knew that he had never been entered and in very gentle love making, I
worked my way round to giving my corporal a private and intimately close
inspection of Radek's chute.

He stopped me immediately and shook his head so firmly that I did stop
and pushed my hand away for the rest of the night. We were not speaking
because it was late and most of the others were asleep.

But in the morning, I made the awful discovery. It took him a long time
to get me to understand it. Only the Master took a virgin ass, and the
Master alone!

It hit me like a thunderbolt. I had taken the little rabbit, Jiri, and
how I had taken him! I was in turmoil and very worried. It almost put
me off my two biscuits though my stomach was rumbling like an old tank.
The words of my old Major rang clearly in my ears `when you put your
boot in shit, get it off your boot as quickly as possible.'

I'll always remember that morning. It was a weekend morning because the
Master had not gone to work at the Bank.

I explained to Radek what I had done, or rather . He looked at me wide
eyed and shook his head in disbelief. I told him he had to help me. He
said no. I begged and begged him to help me because he has English and
can explain to the Master what had happened. He extracted a very hard
bargain which had my tongue in service for almost three months afterwards
with him.

To be continued ...