This is the twentieth chapter ex twenty two of a novel about slavery and gay sex.
Keywords: authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, gay, sex
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The Dahran Way
Chapter 20 The importance of submission
Bozo Kalik
The average prisoner whom we receive from the EU jails has a number of common characteristics. First, he is male. He also a lifer,' serving not less than twenty five years of a sentence, but more likely a sentence for the rest of his natural life, a without possibility of parole' prisoner as they say in some jurisdictions and most likely a multi-crime criminal. We have never received a `single crime' prisoner that I can remember.
We have received prisoner-slaves, who have quite literally got away with murder, but have been convicted on technicalities, which would have no relevance in other places. These are prisoners, who have never been seriously challenged before in giving their total obedience and submission to anyone and certainly not to any authority other than themselves.
The majority of the new prisoner slaves also share a number of other characteristics. They are in their majority out-of-shape, with a history of violence and are heterosexual.
Bozo Kalik, the recalcitrant Serbian slave, with whom Bryce Sands had to spend so much personal time breaking down his walls of resistance, one after the other, was perhaps the most typical of these new arriving slaves.
In summary, a nasty piece of work, of faulty and from what his file said, sadly, lacking education.
Taking over from Ivan Sorovich during the afternoons in the last compound are Mirzan Babak, my Iranian trainer and his partner Vaz Atagi, the Chechen trainer. They are my two trainers in charge of this last compound and not only do they work as a team, they work as an excellent team with a streamlined and seamless set of actions and performance.
As I was following the training of Bozo Kalik, I was there when he was strapped down onto a table and saw Vaz insert a small stainless steel brank into Bozo's mouth and a similar one into the mouths of the other four slaves. The brank, something akin to the bit of a horse-bridle, but in two parts, was then locked into position, keeping the mouth wide open, but not painfully so.
It may have come as a surprise for the slave lying on the table, having a view of his world temporarily half upside down, to see various very well endowed slaves walk in and each one stand at the head of each bound slave on each table.
Bozo Kalik gave a gargled cry and his body gave a shudder, as far as it was possible strapped down tightly on his back. The penny had dropped as to what was about to happen.
On Mirzan's nod, the slave standing by his table introduced his cock into the open orifice before him. As all the slaves in the team of volunteers, he was well endowed in length as well as in girth, which must have been six inches in circumference -- the size of a small apple.
If you have ever tried to introduce a small apple in its entirety into your mouth you will know just how much the jaws have to stretch wide open to even try and accommodate it. Bozo tried to avoid the cock entering his mouth by moving his head, but the training slave merely held his head still and let his member rest between the lips of the strapped down slave. He was in no hurry. He gradually introduced his cock into the slave's mouth, so that Bozo could feel its size and taste his precum.
I watched Bozo Kalik struggle with the size of the penis being inserted into his mouth. His training slave was patient and unhurried. Very gently an in-and-out motion was started and soon the friction brought the training slave's cock to full erection. In some cases, such as with Bozo, this can cause a problem, as many of the slaves have difficulty with a sizeable cock in their mouths for the first time, to say nothing of a cock, which is touching the back of the throat.
After thirty minutes, Vaz gave the sign for the next phase to start.
Most persons have an automatic body gag reflex in the mouth. It stops us swallowing what has not been chewed properly and it stops liquids going down the wrong way. It therefore takes a little time for the gag reflex to be overcome.
The training slave now started to test Bozo's gag reflex, as the four at the other tables started doing the same. This was done carefully and gently. There was no point in distressing the strapped down slaves too much. They were being trained after all, not being punished.
The gagging point was easily ascertained. Bozo's body bucked as he felt himself being choked from within. He was quickly distressed at the gagging reflex. The training slave immediately pulled back and started a gently rocking motion in and out aiming for that point.
I would have said that this went on for about half an hour and seemed to be going well, when the training slave stopped, pulled out his cock, which was leaking precum profusely and called Mirzan over and asked for a replacement slave take over. The first training slave was too close to coming.
The second training slave arrived and as soon as he was at full erection he started to press his cock in an inch, but not more, down Bozo's gullet until the gag point was reached afresh.
`Master, some refreshment?'
Drink, my body slave, was at my side offering a glass of Bob Conrad's famous limejuice, which had been brought down from the Lime Palace in a thermos flask.
I sipped it for a while as the day was quite hot and calling over Mirzan and Vaz when the procedures were to my opinion running smoothly, I had Drink fill up my glass again and I offered it first to Mirzan, who drained it in two gulps. When refilled, I gave it to Vaz, who drank the cooling limejuice down likewise. The sign of favour to my two trainers was not lost on the training slaves present.
After an hour of this new procedure an end is called by Mirzan.
The training slaves slipped the branks off their trainees to rinse them. The slaves on the tables were now bathed in sweat. For some reason, slaves sweat a lot during deep throating. Perhaps it is because they have just come in from training in the outside heat; perhaps, it is because the day, even inside the training unit of the compound, is getting hot. I have never quite understood the reason.
`Bozo, would you like some water?'
The training slave was offering a cup of water to the slave whom he had been deep-throating. It is not just an act of kindness to one, who is thirsty, it is a psychological act of bonding between the trainer and the trainee. It is a statement that the deep throating is nothing more than a training technique, akin to having one's hair cut or face shaved.
I noticed that Bozo had difficulty in speaking, but hoarsely said something.
The trainer said, Please. You say please' when you reply.'
Bozo hoarsely said `Please,' as the sweat poured off his face and into his blinking eyes. For some reason, he looked over in my direction. I raised my glass to him and nodded my approval of his efforts to date.
I noticed that Bozo Kalik was maintaining eye contact with me as I sat there looking at him and the other slaves being trained.
The next step in the slaves' sexual training involved probing at sphincter muscle level and touches of the prostrate. Their legs were released from the tables and raised up to be attached to ankle restraints hanging from bars, which gave the trainers full access to their now well-stretched and well-fucked anuses. The excitement of the situation alone may cause the trainee to get a hard-on and the insertion of fingers into his hole certainly will.
Bozo Kalik was no exception here and after some minutes I noticed his full erection. His trainer was good in that he kept Bozo on edge for all of fifteen minutes, massaging the gland of his prostate and allowing the erection to rise and fall, but never pushing the orgasm over the lip of the sexual precipice from, which there is no return.
However, all physical bodies have their physical limit of endurance. If the pain becomes too much we pass out and faint, if the pleasure becomes to much autonomic reactions occur, we giggle, we laugh, we shiver. They are reactions over, which we have no control.
Bozo Kalik was held on the brink of orgasm as long as the his trainer could. But the point came when release was inevitable and Bozo's cum splattered up his smooth hairless torso in three jerking shots.
When Bozo came and came and came, I stood up and took the wet cloth from the trainer and wiped him down myself. I washed the cloth clean, wrung it to semi-dryness and proceeded to wipe down Bozo's body starting with his head and neck. His black eyes were on me in their piercing stare. His oval face, which had been three times treated with the depilatory cream was already beardless and soft.
Drink was beside me holding my glass of limejuice in case I were thirsty again. I dipped my middle-finger in the limejuice and brought it to Bozo's lips and wiped the drops of limejuice across his lips. He licked them greedily with his pink tongue. I dipped two of my fingers in the limejuice and in what is always a dangerous manoeuvre were it ever to go wrong, I brought my fingers to his lips and inserted them in his mouth. Bozo started to suck my fingers of the cooling drops of limejuice.
He was on the way to being trained as a properly adjusted slave despite all the negative baggage, which his environment and his own bad choices had inflicted upon him.
The training slave returned to Bozo's side with the cleaned brank in his hand.
`Will you need this again, or will you promise to open your mouth and not try to bite? If you will be obedient, just say: Yes, sir.'
I could see the wheels turning in the Serb's head. He hesitated, opened his mouth, hesitated again. No sound came out.
Time out. You get the mouth spreader again. You can think about whether it might be a good thing to say Yes sir' when you are asked the same question again tomorrow.'
I missed the group's further days of training in the fifth compound because I had business to attend to elsewhere.
Though many slaves put on a brave face, internally most are terrified of the unknown. In fact, if we really state the truth, we are all terrified of the truly unknown. We are so happy with the facts and faces and situations we know. We are even happy with a know danger. What we fear and frequently reject is what we do not know, simply because it is just that -- unknown and unfamiliar. The new slave has to cope with the climate, one or two new languages, a strange diet and the fact of having to go around naked before total strangers.
I am always aware that for the bewildered slave coming into this new environment, the pain of total loss of his freedom should be minimised while the pain of acceptance of his new status in slavedom should be lessened by the touch of a buddy, the approval of an overseer and especially from time to time, by a happy Master. I have always felt that touch is an expression of humanity to a prisoner slave, who is now on humanity's lowest rung.
Both Mirzan and Vaz were very watchful for any signs of residual resistance, which would have the slave sent back to the fourth compound even on the say-so of one of them. On this there was no dispute. No resisting slave would ever be let out of the compounds.
The second last of the procedures was actually for me as Master to deliver.
Under the canvas awning in the centre of the fifth and last compound was a large wooden table, which served a number of purposes and, which I used for my first personal examination of each slave at the end of their training.
The slave was required to willingly get up on that table, kneeling forward put his head and shoulders down on it, clasp his hands in the middle of his back, spread his knees two feet wide and wait my examination of his prostate gland. Even after the removal of a testicle, all managed creditable performances in shoot-lines of cum.
At the Lemon Palace, punishment had its public place and reward for effort was publicly given as well. Well-shooting slaves received another biscuit that dinnertime.
Bozo Kalik, who in the opinion of both Mirzan and Vaz, his trainers, was the most difficult slave coming into the fifth compound with my first group of prisoner slaves, rose with the rest of his class and graduated into the small body of original slaves, who had come with the Lemon Palace purchase and who would be the workforce of the Lemon Palace
On the day when the first five EU slaves graduated from the fifth compound, I thought it was time to take another look at Zeki Kemal, Berk Onur and the other original farm slaves on the new property.
The original twenty nine slaves whom the al-Shaad brothers had sold me along with the Lemon Palace were lined up before their quarters for evening inspection.
The work on the farms at the Lemon Palace had been progressing slowly but surely with Komil, my stables manager in charge. I had not got around to giving the original twenty nine slaves their gold necklaces. Some had seen my overseers wearing theirs, but had not really associated it with being the property of a mere slave, as the training slaves and normal slaves do not wear it while working.
Ben Trant, my secretary, stood beside me with a tray of golden sparkling objects. Komil called out each name. The first slave came forward hesitatingly and could not believe it when I placed a necklace of gold around his neck.
I explained to all that it was a sign of my favour and should that favour be lost, the necklace would be taken back. It was also a sign that the slave was owned by me and accepted fully being owned by me. The slave half-stumbled back in line, fingering the gold object around his neck.
The original slaves of the Lemon Palace looked much better than when I had purchased them. They had been cleaned up. They had lost their tattoos and metal ornamentation. Their bodies had the depilatory cream applied with great and beautifying effect. Their hair was short, their teeth capped and even. Over half of them had received laser treatment on their eyes and various of them now wore the new permanent anti-sun glare contact lens. None of them had been gelded, as they were a submissive lot to start with -- though it had been up to Komil to teach them proper behaviour in the presence of a Master again -- and I deemed that they had suffered more than enough in their previous plight.
The fifth slave forward was the one whose wrist had been broken at some point and, which had been badly set, if it had been set at all. Yves Fournier, the Palace surgeon and doctor had operated on it, having had to break it again and re-set it. The wrist and forearm was still in plaster and held in place by a string mesh looped round the slave's neck. He was crying when I put the necklace round his neck. From his name I judged him to be one of the Iraqi slaves, who had been acquired by slave owners in Dahra after the war in that country. He was a small man, with a narrow face and jet-black eyebrows, the stubble of hair on his head was streaked with grey.
`Master, Master...' he started to say, but could say no more and fresh tears streamed down his face. He took my hand and kissed the back of it.
Komil ushered him back in line, in case he got too emotional.
The only remaining slaves, who had not received gold necklaces were the two former supervisors, Zeki Kemal and Berk Onur and the five, who had just graduated from the fifth compound.
You will remember that I said that these two' -- indicating the two Turks -- would be gelded if three of you so voted. You must vote on these two.'
The two Turks had dropped to their knees and had their foreheads pressed onto the sand.
`Who votes that they should be gelded?'
Two hands went up.
`Who votes that they should be not gelded?'
Twenty five hands went up and I counted the hands silently.
I looked at the slave, who had not voted either way.
`You again! You have again not voted one way or the other?'
`No, Master. I want to forgive them for having hurt us all when they were supervisors, but I cannot. I also want to hurt them for having hurt us all, but I cannot vote to hurt them. I leave my vote, Master, in your hands.'
`From the reports I have received, Zeki and Berk have been servicing your sexual needs well day and night and none of you have complained on that score. Komil tells me that they have been working hard on rock duty. Only two of you have voted negatively, so I shall go with the opinion of the majority and leave them with their balls for the moment.'
There were muffled cries of `Master, Master, Master...' as the two Turks shuffled forward, took my right foot and in turn placed it on the back of their necks in submission to their owner and Master.
Master,' Berk said half looking up at me, may I give you full obeisance.'
`Please, Master,' Zeki echoed.
`You may.'
Berk undid my trousers and held up my penis to his lips and kissed it. While he was doing this, my eyes were on the five new graduates from the compounds and particularly on Bozo Kalik. Some of their eyes expressed astonished surprise, Bozo's were blackly expressionless. Zeki shuffled forward and made a full obeisance likewise kissing the tip of my penis and then lifted up my trousers and buckled it back in place.
When they had made their obeisance, I gave them each their gold necklace and each said a humble `Thank you, Master.'
It is Komil Rostov's procedure to state his dominance and position as stables manager over each of his charges that he take each such slave to his bed. That trips off the tongue easily, but Komil is all of six foot seven or eight. His penis when flaccid is ten inches and upon erection, some twelve inches. But it is its girth more akin to a young man's muscled forearm and its hardness, which makes it a formidable weapon for making slaves submit to his will and to acknowledge his leadership as stables manager.
His first choice for bedding, Komil told me the following day, of the new slaves was none other than Bozo Kalik. I asked him why, particularly since the Italian and Catalan slaves looked nice, to say nothing of the more solidly well built Austrian and Bosnian slaves.
`Bah!, Master, they will be a little dessert when I have to take them, but Bozo Kalik was a main dish. There was meat in his breaking.'
`Meat? I don't understand, Komil.'
`Master, you may think that Bozo Kalik is a trained slave. He is not. He is on the way to being a good slave, who will fully acknowledge you as Master. He has gone through the techniques and procedures, but somewhere in the depths of his soul he is holding out. He will be in my bed until I have found that somewhere and have confronted him.'
`You think he is not broken to our ways?'
No, Master, not yet. He is about there, but not just yet. I have seen his clever type before. Last night, I took him in front of all the other slaves in the sleeping quarters and ordered him on to his back with his legs held over his head. He shouted a long time while I fucked him on his back and when I had come for the first two times, I could see that he thought I was finished. But in fact, I was only starting. I had him suck me hard again and then I fucked him doggie' style another three times, until after midnight. The other slaves were all asleep by then and I only stopped when he asked to.'
`He asked you to stop?'
He said, Sir, please stop. You are hurting me.'
`And were you?'
Maybe, Master. I am big and I was fucking him for all of four hours. So I said to him, I stop when you beg me to and acknowledge, who is your overseer and who is your Master.' He replied very quietly as I continued to corn-hole him `You, sir, are my overseer and the Master is my Master.' I don't think he could remember your name, Master.'
`So you stopped fucking him.'
`Yes, Master, but I left my cock inside him for the rest of the night, just to reinforce the point of, who was his overseer. In the morning, though he could hardly stand, walking bow-legged into the showers, he washed me down as he was taught and sucked me off. And then as his buddy for the moment, I washed him down and sucked him off in turn. His cum tastes very acidy.'
`I know. So, what is your assessment of Bozo Kalik then, Komil.'
`Master, he will be either a great supervisor or a dead slave. There will be no in-between.'
It was not an assessment that I cared to contradict.
End of chapter 20
To be continued...