Date: Sat, 05 Aug 2006 21:52:56 +0100
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Time Line - Chapter 15 - Gay - Authoritarian -[Dahran series]

The Time Line by Gerry Taylor

This is the fifteenth chapter [ex twenty two] of a novel about gay sex
and present-day slavery.

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

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.

=============

The Prison Doctor and The Changed Life [the first novel of this series]
are now available as full novels in Adobe Acrobat format on
http://www.geocities.com/gerrytaylor_78/

===========



  Chapter 15--Agnosticism



  There were few at the August meeting of partners in London. The board
meeting was only half-full with the others video-conferencing in from
holiday resorts for the two hours. Thankfully, it was all reports and
nothing contentious, allowing us to end on time, and for me to give my
excuses for the usual lunch.

  I met up with my son, Richard, for a midday sandwich close to where he
worked and we walked down the Embankment seeking a bench on which sit and
eat our grub.

  `Jonathan, you won't get annoyed with me if I say something? Will
you?' he said to me.

  `Of course, not. What a thing to say!'

  `I've applied for a job and there's a good chance that I may get it.
It's precisely what I want at this moment in my career.'

  `Excellent. The World Bank or where?'

  `Not quite. I have applied for a Senior Executive position in
long-term planning with a national central bank.'

  `That's wonderful. And you think you might have a chance? Where is
it?'

  `In Dahra.'

  `What?' I said abruptly.

  `I knew you would be annoyed.'

  `No. I mean, yes. No, I mean no. I don't know what I mean. When did
this happen?'

  `It was advertised in the Financial Times at the beginning of July and
I sent in a detailed profile as they requested, and last Friday, they
interviewed me. A Mr. al-Akhri even flew in from Geneva to interview two
others and myself....'

  `And?'

  `It all went very well until we got down to the section on the
application form where it asked for references. I put down the senior
partner's name in the firm and I had put down also your name. I should
have told you. Mr. al-Akhri asked me how I knew you and I said you were
my father.'

  `That must have been a moment.'

  `In fact, Jonathan, it was. I think the interview actually stopped
there, because it was all light and joy after that, but no serious
questions on the work I was doing, and Mr. al-Akhri was looking at the
other two interviewers who were looking at him. If the first part of the
interview had not gone so well, I would be in doubt, but the leading
interviewer from the Central Bank of Dahra said I was the top candidate
so far that they had seen. I do know, because they said so, they were
interviewing only three of us in London.'

  `Don't get your hopes up, Richard, they will have interviewed
everywhere the Financial Times is read,' I said trying to defuse a
situation which I did not know how and where it would explode.

  `I don't think so. The ad and the documentation said "Interviews in
London. Attendance costs covered". At least, that's what I think it
said.'

  The rest of the sandwich lunch break sped by. Richard had to get back
to work and I had a phone call to make.



  `Abdou al-Akhri, please?'

  `Who shall I say?'

  `Sir Jonathan Martin,' I replied into the mobile as I looked down the
Thames.

  `Jonathan?' Abdou was on the line.

  `You're back in Geneva?'

  `Yes.'

  `You're in London for your regular board-meeting?'

  `I have just been informed of an interview for a position at the
Central Bank.'

  I could hear Abdou laughing at the other end.

  `You are a dark horse, Jonathan. I had it down to ring you tomorrow
when you were back in Dahra. You didn't know of the application and
interview?'

  `Not an idea.'

  `What do you want us to do with the application?'

  `You mean that you are seriously considering it?'

  `Definitely. He is the best of a very good bunch. In fact, he is
superlative and exactly what Tariq is looking for. It's a sort of link
between the national Bank and the Finance Ministry in their long-term
planning. You know how the Sheik is on that topic of planning for when
our reserves finally run out in fifty or so years time.'

  `They are now up to fifty? I thought it was forty.'

  `Now you know a Dahran state secret. The application?'

  `You decide, Abdou, on a professional basis, and on that alone.'



  Three days later, Richard rang me at the Bank. He was ecstatic.

  `Jonathan, I've got it! I'm going to Dahra! We are going to be
together finally.'

  I could not stop his enthusiasm and I really did not know what to say
other than offer my sincerest congratulations. I shared his enthusiasm
and offered my sincerest congratulations. At the same time I could see
problems looming and hoped that time as usual would offer solutions.

  The thought came to me that I should visit Fiona and Jack, and I asked
Jack one morning at the Bank over coffee when they would be free so I
could drop out to talk with them both which turned out to be two days
later.



  Fiona's unfinished comment as I arrived at the Wisteria Palace that
evening was `Great minds think alike, Jonathan...' and we gave each
other a hug. `Jack and I were about to go and see you.'

  Two of their Scottish slaves came in with some dainties, cheese
crackers and water biscuits, and fruit juices on a tray. Young Thor was
to hand placing serviettes on our laps as we sat down. The healthy glow
of his skin, as indeed the grooming of the two Scottish slaves, who did
not have a spare inch of fat on their physiques, showed that their
Mistress and Jack had a firm hand in the control of the household.

  Jack waved the slaves away.

  `Jonathan, I have to reply to London about the post in Rio de Janeiro.
We are so looking forward to going there. But the Palace here and the
household slaves are the problem as you may have guessed. We wanted to
seek your advice,' and he reached out and took Fiona's hand in his.

  I looked at these two who in many ways were still young love-birds and
said straight out, `there is only one thing both of you can do and that
is to sell the Palace and the slaves lock, stock and barrel. After all in
Dahran law, the whole lot is only property.'

  `We were thinking that as well, Jonathan,' Fiona said, `but the
question is to find the right buyer or buyers. The household slaves are
fellow Scots after all, and while we owe them nothing in law, they have
served us well and we both feel more than a sentimental bond towards
them. But we and the bairn now have to move on.'

  Jack was nodding his agreement.

  `Good analysis, Fiona. I see that Jack is for this as well. If you are
selling, I know of a buyer.'

  `You do?' Jack said. `Yourself?

  `Heavens no, Jack, I have all the Palaces I need and slaves as well.
Now, that is not actually true as I am going to need a final batch for
the al-Kadir property. No, I have a buyer for you. I'd say he would get
on with the Scottish slaves okay, and the five others. Are Thor and Andy
still an item?'

  `Indeed, they are. Can you say who the buyer would be, Jonathan?'

  `Yes,' I said with as enigmatic a smile as I could manage.

  `Well who then, if you don't mind me asking?' Jack insisted.

  `Your cousin.'

  `David? I didn't think he wanted to move from the Lemon Palace.'

  `No, your cousin, Richard Black.'

  `Who?' Fiona and Jack said as one.

  `You have a new cousin, Jack, my son--Richard Martin Black.'

  There was a look of bewilderment and incredulity on both faces.

  `I suggest we refill our glasses with something a little stronger than
fruit juices, and I will raise a toast to the new member of my family as
I tell you his story.'

  Fiona had rung a bell and Thor was back in to us in a flash.

  `Champagne and three glasses, Thor.'

  `Yes, Mistress, immediately.'

  `Well, enough of the suspense, let me tell you both the story of
Richard Martin Black,' and I began my story.



  Half an hour later, Jack made his first comment, apart from telling
Thor who had arrived with the champagne, to pour out three flutefulls,
`He's coming to Dahra?'

  `My son is coming to Dahra.'

  `And he doesn't know anything yet of the Dahran way of life?'

  `Yes, in the sense that it is different. No, in the sense that it is
very different. I am going to have a lot of explaining to do.'

  `That, Jonathan, is the understatement of the week,' Fiona commented.
`I know in my own case that it was a shock to my values system.'

  `As for the Wisteria Palace and your slaves, Jack, Fiona, just name
your price. Take what things and all the furniture you want from your
home. The rest I shall buy for Richard as a gift to him. I can see how
well trained, you have the slaves, Fiona. I notice that Thor is
discreetly in and out every ten minutes to top up glasses. The other two
served well. The Palace and grounds are looking spectacular.'

  `It will be sad to leave all of this splendour and such marvellous
Scottish slaves behind,' Fiona murmured, `but life moves on.'

  `I don't know how things will ultimately work out here with
Richard,' I said, `but with such a well-run Palace, it will be all that
much easier for him. One thing, however, I would request of both of you
is that you stay on here until the end of September. It will give Richard
time to find his feet, learn some Arabic and come to terms with Dahra.'

  `But what about the posting to Rio?' Jack interjected.

  `Let me have a word with Personnel in London. I am sure that they can
reschedule--let's say to have someone cover for you for two months in
Rio. I do have a little clout with the Chairman after all.'



  With a promise to be in touch over the coming days, I left for home.

  I had arrived back earlier than normal from Fiona and Jack's and as I
alighted from the Rolls, I saw a naked Sabir Temirov coming out of one of
the storerooms with a wrench in his hand. He immediately dropped to his
knees and touched his forehead to ground in obéisance as he had obviously
not seen me previously that day.

  `Sabir, have you found a function for yourself as I suggested?'

  `Master, I may have one or two suggestions for you in some weeks'
time, when I am finished the various maintenance projects which Overseer
Stan wants me to look at.'

  `Good, and young Mikey? Is he behaving himself? Where is he now?'

  `At the moment, Master, he is at a sex-techniques class. Yes, he is
behaving himself very well and learning to be very obedient. There is a
stubborn streak in him, but a good fucking twice a night will soon help
that to disappear.'

  `Twice a night, eh?'

  `Yes, Master, it makes him come as well, and then he sucks me off in
the morning. Correct sucking he finds difficult. But he is learning
fast.'

  `You have my permission to cane him if he does not respond well.'

  `Thank you, Master, but I think my cock will be enough punishment for
him for a while.'

  The former Kazakh officer before me was semi-erect and his incipient
hardon had pulled the foreskin back along the glans of his penis.

  `It looks like your cock likes inflicting that punishment on young
Mikey.'

  `Yes, Master, it does.'

  `Now get on with your work and let me know when your suggestions are
ready.'

  `Yes, Master.'

  `And Sabir, if you wish to wear shorts at any time, I trust Yuriy's
assessment of you entirely and consider you already one of my
supervisors.'

  `Master, thank you,' Sabir said with a smile, `but I'm still
working on an overall tan.'



  Being near Frank Kovacs' quarters where the sex-techniques are taught,
I decided to drop in unannounced. There are two things which are never
missed by slaves and supervisors alike I am told. The first is a call to
visit the barbers' shop and the second is a training session in
sex-techniques, or vice versa.

  As I approached the quarters which for some reason I had never visited
in all the time of their existence, I could hear gasps and groans and the
odd cry, and one voice which was saying, `please no more. No more,'
followed by a strangled and cut-off shout.

  As I went in, I saw five beds to one side of the quarters and five
brown leather adjustable tables on the other side. A number of what I
would call `sex toys' were hanging from hooks on walls and visible in
two cabinets. At that moment, there were five slaves on the tables with a
further slave in attendance on either side of each of the tables. The
slave on the last table had his arms tied to two hooks on the front legs
of the table and a leather strap was securing the back of his widely
splayed kneeling legs on the other end of the table.

  Each of the four other slaves was lying on his belly, his two hands
reaching right back to clasp the insteps of his feet, one in each hand.
In so doing, he was actually pulling his legs apart to reveal a perfect
hole in a hairless crack, moist and pink, striated and cerise, centred
and purple. A perfect anus for rimming training, which was precisely what
was going on!

  Frank Kovacs had his back to me talking to his assistant Vitali Belov,
who on seeing me, shouted, `the Master'.

  The slaves on the tables hopped down from their prone positions, apart
from the tied up slave with a white cloth covering his head on the last
table, but not before one upon drawing himself up to go `on display'
shot a three foot volley of semen across towards the beds. Too close to
coming and the quick jerk of his body off the table had sent his sexual
arousal over the edge. His circumcised cock started to deflate rapidly.

  I was about to say something when the door opened and in walked Jake
Peoples, who upon seeing me stopped in his tracks, and went `at
display' as he had seen me earlier in the day.

  `I was in the neighbourhood, Frank,' I commented. `What is going on
today?'

  `Let us show you, Master. Vitali and I are showing these ten slaves
the art of rimming and how to give their buddy the most exquisite of
sexual pleasures with only a tongue. Let me show you,' and he snapped
his fingers at one of the four slaves who had hopped down from the tables
as I had come in, and who now lay belly down on the table. `From the
beginning,' he said to two of the slaves who had been on either side of
the table.

  The two slaves went on either side of the table and started touching
the prone slave's shoulder-blades with their finger tips and then every
so often, bending forward to touch a spot with their tongues, letting
their fingers wander down the spine, back and sides of the slave, whom I
saw was beginning to raise his backside slightly off the table with the
pleasure he was receiving.

  `Physical size is also very important here, Master. If one buddy is
very big physically and the other small, the sexual pleasure of dominance
with only a tongue is highly increased for the smaller buddy, and vice
versa, when the larger buddy submits to a very tiny mahout.'

  `Mahout? I thought that was someone who rode on an elephant.'

  `Yes, indeed, Master, and very often a mere child. It is the control
of the smaller slave over the larger.'

  Georgi Gridov came immediately to mind. There was one slave in the room
who had not moved.

  `What's the matter with that slave?' I said pointing to the one with
the white cloth over his head.

  `He has not yet learned a procedure. He must report here every day
morning and afternoon until he has learned it properly.'

  `What procedure?'

  `This procedure, Master. Rimming. His family and social upbringing
left him with limited values and knowledge about sex. He thinks rimming
is dirty.'

  `Are you telling me, Frank, that he won't obey your orders? Why have
you not punished him for not obeying you? You certainly have all my
authority as an Overseer.'

  `No, Master. It is not a question of punishment. He simply has not
learned how to get his head around rimming yet. Each day he comes along a
little bit more, and soon he will be as experienced as any other slave
who pleasures his buddy every evening. Think of French irregular verbs,
or written accents in Spanish or something like that. He simply has
difficulty in learning them. He does not understand their value. In this
case, he does not understand the value of rimming.'

  `And the white cloth?'

  `That is so as not to embarrass the slave, Master!'

  `You don't want to embarrass the slave, Frank? What type of training
is that?'

  `Training that will always be appreciated, Master, and improved upon
in time. The sex-techniques classes are not here to embarrass anyone,
neither the more modest slaves nor the really shy slaves. Some, I can
tell you are very shy in sexual matters due to their former cultures or
those because they have never learned the value of sex in life.'

  `Are you telling me, Frank, that you don't want me to see the face of
one of my own slaves under that piece of muslin cloth?'

  `Precisely, Master. Think of it like the lawyer-client relationship.
What happens here in the training quarters is not talked about outside by
either Vitali, myself or this slave.'

  `So what has his training been so far?'

  `He has come through the compounds some time back so he was broken
anally in the fifth compound very well, but as a sub. He has rarely taken
an active role with his partners. We are changing that attitude, little
by little. Vitali,' and he nodded to his naked assistant who walked in
front of the slave, and lifting his flaccid cock, put it in under the
white muslin cloth into the slave's mouth.

  From the bobbing head, the slave was fellating Vitali Belov very well
as a big grin broke out on his face, as he commented, `Last week,
Master, this slave,' whom he patted on the shoulder, `could barely kiss
a cock without being forced and almost got sick taking our cocks in his
mouth. Now, he is developing a nice blow-job technique as you can see.'

  `So, no punishment?'

  `No, Master, education and patience. Little by little, we are teaching
him how to rim.'

  `How?'

  `We explain just like all the other slaves, when he comes in here, he
must be perfectly clean after his shower and douche inside and out. He
starts off by kissing the palms of the hands of every slave here on his
day. Then the backs of their hands. Then the glutes of the slaves. As you
can see, Master, each of the slave here is perfectly prepared in the
style of the Palace,' and Frank indicated the buttocks and crack of the
slave still being finger-tip massaged and whose butt was now definitely
up in the air trying to keep his body in greater contact with the
massaging fingers.

  The slave's knees had come wide apart, and in so doing he was
revealing a crack devoid of all hair, as it should be after several
applications of the body hair removal cream which all my slaves receive.
His anus showed a tight sphincter muscle contracting the centre into a
tight dark hole. The hole was not virgin and was moist. I touched the
inside of the slave's gluteus muscle and the skin reacted in galvanic
response. I let my finger wander to his most private orifice and touched
the moisture. I guessed that it was Aloe cream by its smoothness and
consistency, and when I smelled it, so it was.

  The slave was now quite definitely becoming erect from such contact
with his masseurs and myself.

  Vitali Belov had withdrawn from the other slave's mouth. His penis was
at full erection.

  `Well done, Vitali, I see you have overcome your premature
ejaculations.'

  `Yes, Master, quite a while back. Another technique we teach,' he
said with a grin.

  The slave tied down to the table raised his head a little under the
muslin cloth and said something out of my hearing in a low voice to
Vitali.

  `Master, I think we are having a bit of a breakthrough. This slave
wants to try rimming. Patience pays off again, though I think on this
occasion it might be just because you are here,' he said with a smile as
he signalled two of the slaves to untie their companion.

  One of the former table slaves took up a position in front of the
cloth-covered head of the slave, bent down and clasped his ankles which
were at least two feet apart. Another slave came and rubbed the slave's
buttocks and crack dry.

  Like the launch of a boat in reverse, the buttocks inched their way
closer to the head of the slave on the table, who now free from his
restraints positioned himself and his face towards the approaching crack.

  The instructions started.

  `Kiss each buttock first. Then use your tongue up and down each cheek.
Take your time. Now tongue at the top of the crack and down the side and
underneath, that's the way, right down to the balls and back up again.
Take your time. There is no rush.'

  Vitali was talking the slave through the procedure. The recipient slave
had his head to one side, his eyes closed in pleasure, his mouth slightly
open emitting little gasps of pleasure and his hole had not even yet been
touched.

  `Now, try that again, but in a smaller circle,' Vitali advised his
pupil. `Nice and slow. No rush.'

  When the bent over slave, jumped I knew that the rimming had achieved a
bulls-eye, and Vitali was saying, `Well done. Very well done. That's
all for today.'

  Frank was at a computer monitor and was typing something in and seeing
me looking at him, he commented `Technique 43, day 1. We have it all
logged in, Master.'

  `Another programme of Jens?'

  `Yes, Master. Every one of the slaves has to take this programme. A
sexually trained slave is a happy slave. One who has improved sex
techniques has pride in himself and in being able to pleasure his buddy
even more, and he knows that his buddy is or will be equally trained to
please him.'

  `How many techniques do you teach, Frank?'

  `Eighty, Master, and two to four hours for each technique to each
slave. For the Palaces, it will take at least another three years to get
through all the present slaves.'

  `And Master,' Vitali added, `no one misses a session. Almost
never.'

  `So, I've heard. Like the barbers' shop.'

  `But much better. Much, much better than the barbers' shop, Master,'
Frank commented.

  `What are you doing here, Jake?' I said to the young Peoples brother
slave who was still standing beside the door, and who started to blush
when I addressed him.

  `I am an instructor, a part-time instructor here when rimming is being
taught, Master.'

  `Part-time instructor?' I said looking at Frank.

  `A golden tongue. A Palace treasure, Master! We can only avail
ourselves of his expertise when there are no messages to be run.'

  `Put your name down with Ben for sometime this week with me, Jake. I
will see if you are still living up to your reputation.'

  `Yes, Master,' the most excellent of my rimmers said with a smile.



  Because of my continuing interest in the new project of planting the
kiwifruit at the al-Kadir property, and because Graham Hodson was so
enthusiastic about it, I made a point of going down the Long Mile Road
every two days or so, as business would allow, to see how things were
progressing.

  Progressing they were without a doubt. There can be no mistaking the
value of a good Overseer. It is not a question of exercising authority.
It is more in the giving of enthusiastic direction to a project which an
Overseer can infuse into it. Georgi Gridov was one such Overseer.

  There seemed each time I visited to be a buzz about the work, a certain
sense of achievement among the slaves and yet I noticed no visible signs
of canings on buttocks as I went by. It was as if each kofila was
attempting to achieve its set targets and was happy and content to
achieve them.

  Accidentally on purpose, I made a point of visiting those sections
where Mikey Acton was working on rock duty. He made a perfect obéiseance
when I met him on each occasion, and managed to point out that the stones
being taken from the al-Kadir plots were, in fact, smaller than from
elsewhere as the property had been extensively farmed by the previous
owner.

  `I did notice also that you have not been caned of late.'

  `No, Master. Overseer Georgi accepts that my piles of rocks are
smaller because the rocks are smaller in size,' and he held up a rock
about the size of a fist, `and Master....'

  He had developed this perfect phraseology of having me ask him what did
he wanted to ask, because as is general practice, slaves don't ask
questions of the Master.

  `What?'

  `Master, are you really going to bed me some night?'

  I looked at him as he studied his feet with great intent.

  `Maybe. If I feel like it. If I feel you merit my attention. If your
sex technique classes are okay. A lot of ifs, Mikey, as you can see. Are
you worried about me bedding you? Has not Sabir done that every night
since I assigned you to him.'

  `Yes, Master, he has. But going to bed with you is different. If I
don't please you...if I can't please you, are you going to punish me?'

  `Mikey, if you come top of the class in sex techniques you will please
me, I can assure you. As you know if I so order it, you can take all the
sex techniques classes you like.'

  `Can I tell Frank and Vitali that, Master?'

  `You can indeed. By the way, how old are you?'

  `Nineteen, Master.'

  `I think, Mikey, that you and I are going to get on very well. You
have cleaned up very nicely. Those tattoos you had have been taken off
you. You are even putting on a little muscle with all this exercise you
are getting. This rock duty, I think you realise, is not just a
punishment duty for some, it is an opportunity to develop the strength of
your body. Even your cock looks happy,' and I took his half-tumescent
penis in my hand and felt it harden under my touch.

  `My cock, Master, is always happy, and Master...', he said seeming
to hesitate in putting into sound the words on the tip of his tongue.

  `What?'

  `Master, is it true that if you take me to your bed that you have two
slaves in your bedroom to tie me to the bed so you can then rape me?'

  I was looking at the slave in amazement and could only open my mouth in
wonder at what goes on in slaves' minds.

  `Tie you up and rape you? Who told you that?'

  `I said to some on a kofila one day that you, Master, might have me in
your bed one night. That's...that's what they said...that you like to
break in the fresh meat.'

  The slave was trembling and looking at the ground.

  `Mikey, if I wanted to rape you, I would tell you bend over and let me
take you. You are a slave and you obey the orders of your Master. I would
not need any two slaves to tie you up here or in my bedroom suite or
anywhere else. And as for unbroken `fresh meat' as you so indelicately
put it, Sabir has seen to it, has he not, that you have been well and
truly broken in?

  The slave nodded, still not looking up from the ground.

  `Has he hurt you?'

  `No, Master, not really after the first time the day you told him to
take me to the slave quarters.'

  `Are you worried about coming to my bed?'

  `Yes, Master...I mean, no, Master...I mean, yes, Master because of
what the others said they knew happened.'

  `I think they were winding you up. Let's settle this once and for
all. You know my secretary, Ben?'

  `Yes, Master, I have seen him.'

  `Tell him that you are to be my bed companion in ten days' time.'

  `Yes, Master.'

  `Now look me in the eye,' and the slave raised his eyes to mine.
`Mikey, you are a fine young slave. Once you are properly trained which
will take about a full year, there will be no need for you to feel
insecure or threatened or anything but loved by me, your Master. Don't
believe every old slave tale that comes out of kofilas.'

  `Yes, Master.'

  `Okay, Mikey, get on with your work.'

  The young slave went on about his work and I thought to myself that
given work and bread most slaves could find some dignity in that. If such
simple farm work was attached to opportunity, then most slaves would find
a future of limited happiness in my service. Their difficulty lay in a
lack of knowledge about their futures, an agnosticism of a rudimentary
type, where they could not say with certainty what future their slavedom
might hold. But one thing I know for certain is that all happiness in
this world is limited in nature.

End of Chapter 15

===========

Contact:

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The Dahran series -- a fictional adventure story about the life and times
of Sir Jonathan Martin -- comprises the following novels to date:

1. The Changed Life

2. The Reluctant Retrainer

3. The Market Offer

4. The Special Memories

5. The Dahran Way

6. The Dahran Rebuttals

7. The Seventh Desert

8. The Dahran Sands

9. The Time Line

These novels are all serialised on Nifty (Gay -- Authoritarian) and on
YahooGroups http://groups.yahoo.com/group/erotic_gay_stories