This is the twenty first chapter [ex twenty two] of a novel about gay sex and present-day slavery.
Keywords: authority, control, gay, loyalty, slavery, punishment, retraining, sex, submission
This novel, The Dahran Sands, is the eighth novel in the Dahran series.
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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/
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Chapter 21 - The new citizen
Never sit in the place of a man who can say to you, `Rise'.
(Arab proverb).
I was sitting on the veranda getting a report on the al-Kadir property from my new head of project there, Georgi Gridov.
Unlike the other reports I tend to get, it was entirely verbal as Georgi has limited writing and literary skills. That did not bother me in the slightest. Georgi could get himself a scribe who knew how to use a computer from among any number of the slaves. Vaz Atagi, one of my supervisors in the fifth compound was also present.
Bob came out and served us some lime-juice on the veranda and seeing as something was up, I noticed that he hung around within hearing distance. Bob, just like my secretary Ben, loves to be on the inside track of things.
As we were chatting away, Tony Sert, the head of a new complex arrived at a nice trot. He had a three-foot camel cane in his hand as per the message I had previously sent him.
`Ah, Tony, there you are!'
`Master, you were looking for me?'
`How is the new sports complex coming on?'
`It is on target, Master, another month, six weeks at the most and we will have it ready. Swimming pool and all.'
`Programmes in place and all?'
I saw a second's hesitation in Tony's next reply.
`It will be a fight, Master, to have the programmes ready from day one. But I will do my best for you.'
Good, Tony. To help you, I am giving you the slave here,' and I pointed to Nigel Broaders at the foot of the veranda steps. He's English so you won't have language difficulties in the morning at least, and Tony, he is older than you. He is more intelligent than you, so you have to put the stamp of your authority on him. Go down, have him bend over and give him five strokes on his buttocks. Let me see how you do it.'
Without hesitation, Tony took the camel cane and bounded down the veranda steps.
`Slave, bend over and grasp the back of your knees and count off the strokes!' he said in a loud voice, full of command.
The camel cane flashed in the sun and the muffled voice of Nigel Broaders counted off `one, thank you, Supervisor; two, thank you, Supervisor....'
When the number of strokes had been delivered, Tony bounded back up the steps, as the slave straightened up there was sweat on his forehead.
`Done, Master. Do you wish me to do anything more?'
`Yes, Tony, pour yourself a glass of lime-juice.'
Tony poured himself two thirds of a glass, and taking it, raised it in toast to me and those present.
`This lime-juice is mine, Master, to do with as I wish.'
`Yes,' I said without thinking and a bit puzzled that he might not like lime-juice.
He nodded to me and went down the steps and handed my good Baccarat crystal glass to a surprised Nigel Broaders who downed the glass in two gulps. I heard a `Thank you, Supervisor,' being spoken.
Vaz looked amused. Bob from the angle I was looking at him also looked annoyed at his famous lime-juice being given to a mere slave and one who had just been punished at that! Georgi was smiling at what had happened.
Tony, pour yourself a glass of lime-juice this time,' and I emphasised the yourself'.
`Thank you, Master,' which he did and started to drink carefully.
`What was that all about?' Vaz finally said to him referring obviously to the previous glassful being given to the slave.
Tony Sert first looked at me, not knowing if he had the right to reply to another supervisor with me being there. So, he replied to me.
`If this slave is to work well for me, Master, he must know that I am able not only to punish him for no apparent reason, but that I can reward him for no apparent reason either. The slave does not know me and he has to learn to trust me. I think he will trust me in time, particularly if I rub some Aloe sap on to his backside later tonight.'
Vaz, who has a good sense of humour, roared laughing. Bob looked unsure if not entirely nonplussed.
Tony, he is yours to do with as you please' I said. He has not a buddy yet, but if Dr. Miraldo tires of you any night, I am sure that this slave will be a very willing bed companion for you. You have put him through his paces on that score, I'm sure?' I commented looking at Vaz, part of whose procedures in the fifth compound include the introduction of the slave to the largest cocks from among the slave population of the Palaces, and who was nodding at my comment.
Thank you, Master,' Tony replied. He will be a big help. Thank you for thinking of me. You say, Master, that I can do with him as I please?'
`Yes. What do you want?'
`I would suggest respectfully, Master, that I get rid of the adornments. He is the only slave I have seen in the Palaces to have them, and with what I may have to get him to do, they could get in the way.'
I looked at the large rings in the slave's nipples.
`Have them removed if you wish, Tony. There were there anyway as a punishment not as a decoration.'
`Thank you, Boss.'
There is nothing quite like sincere gratitude in a well-trained slave such as Tony.
Nigel Broaders stood `at display' in the courtyard, now well-trained for service to me as my slave, not knowing why he had been lifted from his legal life in London, not realising whom he had insulted and who had unwittingly intimated his removal. He had been a predator hunter who had himself been hunted. His former friends in the legal profession now thought that he was an amnesiac wandering the world or dead in some unknown place. If they but knew his fate!
When Tony Sert was raising the matter of the steel piercings, I noticed that the slave was staring at Tony, realising that his future lay in Tony's wishes and in my commands. It was only for a fraction of a second but I saw a combination of relief and adulation and thanks in the slave's eyes for his new Supervisor. There might be some hope for Nigel Broaders after all if he could just stop thinking of himself before my needs as his Master.
Poor Nigel, not only lost freedom, but lost purpose in life too! It was up to me as his Master to give him a new purpose in his slavedom, and that, come sand or high water, I would do!
While in theory, the water-wheels are supposed to give water to the gardens, it is really the Palace reservoir on its high vantage point which provides all the volume and the force needed for the water and its supply to the gardens if the two deep wells were ever to stop shooting water out at pressure.
I found myself at one point walking by a number of slaves who were weeding some of the beds and stopped to look at them. It was clear they had a feel for what they were doing, respecting the plants and shrubs but getting rid of the offending weeds and dead leaves, and I nodded my approval at their work.
As I was standing there, Komil Rostov, who is my Head of Stables for the Lemon Palace and who deploys the various hundreds of slaves in their work, came along.
`Boss, is there a problem? I heard you were out here.'
`No, Komil, just looking at some work being done well,' and the slaves smiled at Komil upon hearing the comment.
I always feel tiny compared to the Uzbeki's six foot seven frame, but I know from my own experience with him in bed, that his size is a direct contradiction to his gentleness as a lover. When he had been lifted and enslaved, he had been engaged to be married. His bisexuality had therefore been a gift on finding himself in a totally male environment, and in the small intimacies of post-coital relaxation he had made his true orientation known to me.
From the point of view of a slave-owner, Komil Rostov was a dream. Once he knew his owner's wishes, he carried them out. He needed no supervision himself, and when he did not know something he asked. Unlike Yuriy Obov, who has a very hands on attitude in supervising the slaves under his supervision even to the extent of stripping off and working side by side with them on a time consuming or difficult project, Komil would let his slaves work as best they could and would wait until they came to him with whatever problem they have. When the work is over, it is then that Komil reacts and congratulates even the weakest slave on his performance and the good points of the slave's work done.
Komil makes the slaves in his care feel wanted and appreciated. For each of them, their own systematic approach works and I never interfere. While I loved Yuriy dearly as my first slave, it was really to Komil that I always felt myself close to on a sexual level and one of affection which is why I try to arrange having him in my bed once a month.
During the week at the Bank, I got a call from Tariq al-Akhri at the Finance Ministry, where he is number three in the pecking order, though he is in fact the true financial power in the Sheikdom.
`Jonathan, if you are free for lunch, I'll send a car round for you.'
I agreed immediately because Tariq was a good friend whom I see few enough times. As the middle of five brothers, he was a significant influence in the country, both individually and with his younger brother Abdou, who is very close to the Sheik.
When Tariq's Mercedes collected me, the driver said his Master was lunching at the Dahran Hilton which now had been fully rebuilt in record time after the damage of the abortive invasion. There was little midday traffic and we were there in no time at all.
I was ushered through and up and into a private dining room, where Tariq came to greet me and to present me to his own boss, the Minister for Finance and his deputy, two elderly Dahrans dressed in white disdashas with a simple gold trim. I had not met any of them personally, though I had been at function where the Minister had been present.
The lunch was Dahran cuisine and we reclined on various couches as the food was brought in and served to us. I noticed that the Deputy Minister ate sparingly, and the Minister even more so. They were there for matters other than eating. Such matters would arise in due course and never directly.
Tariq was relaxed and kept the conversation going until about half-way through the lunch, when the Deputy Minister with a mere gesture of his fingers dismissed the maître d'hôtel who quickly took his serving staff out of the room.
Looking over at Tariq, the Deputy Minister started by thanking me for the Bank's work in the Sheikdom. We do handle funds equivalent to 37% of the Sheikdom's investments, and if I say so myself, through my previous junior Partner, Gustav Ahlson and the brilliance of my other junior Partner, Colin Bowman, we did more than well for the Sheikdom.
`You do realise, I am sure, that the Minister and I leave the investment side of things in the hand's of Tariq's brother, Abdou, in Geneva and your Bank. Indeed, also for the running of the Ministry, we rely entirely on Tariq here for day to day matters.'
It was the nearest statement to confirming my opinion of Tariq as the true financial power behind the throne as I was likely ever to hear.
`The Minister is also, ex officio, on the Council of State,' the deputy Minister said.
Now that I did not know; there is no listing, at least not publicly of its membership, other than it being twenty in number.
That, Jonathan,' Tariq chimed in, is partly the reason for the lunch today. Your very generous gift to the Council of State of the Dahran Opal and of the twenty other Opal Daggers, as they are now being called, has caused a little embarrassment.'
Tariq, Minister, Deputy Minister,' I said looking at each in turn, heavens above, there was never any intention of embarrassing anyone, I can assure you.'
`No, Jonathan, you misunderstand, not embarrassment in that sense. The Sheik is delighted with the Dahran Opal which will now be in a significant place when all meetings of the Council are taking place, just as the Scimitar of Dahra is in place for the administration of justice. The members of the Council have also seen great significance in the opal daggers -- the deeply buried treasures of our land now on an instrument of protection at the service of the Sheikdom. No, Jonathan, our embarrassment is to find a suitable gift to give you in return.'
`Minister, I can assure you I need nor want any gift in return. It is I who have received more personally and in business from the Sheikdom of Dahra that any one could ever want. I realise that you may think that you have to give a gift but I can tell you, it is not necessary and there must be no embarrassment or any loss of face at your end. Tariq, I am sure you can explain it better. Anyway His Excellency has made a gift of land to me, which is more than I could every have expected.'
`I have tried to explain all of that, Jonathan, but not very successfully,' Tariq murmured.
`One small token of our appreciation is this, Sir Jonathan,' the Minister said as he passed a small leather case to his Deputy who passed it to me.
Inside the case was a Dahran passport. I was being truly honoured. I had never heard of foreigners being given Dahran passports. There was even a passport photograph of me on the inside, thought I looked some years younger.
I looked at Tariq. I did not know quite what to say.
`It is very rare that a person not born in Dahra receives a passport. It has only been done in extremely few cases.'
I pointed to the photograph. `Dahra makes me look younger,' I quipped.
`It is the photograph from your visa application of some years ago,' the Deputy Minister said with a smile.
`Minister, I am at a loss for words at this singular honour. Please tell His Excellency the Sheik how much I am pleased.'
The rest of the lunch passed off quietly and I found out that the Minister tended his racing camel farm in the South and came to the capital city only one day a week. The Deputy Minister had factories up near Tarim in the north, and imitating his Minister came down to the capital city on the same day. It struck me that the three in charge of the finances of the Sheikdom were from the north, south and west and most likely were from different tribes as well. So, I saw that Tariq al-Akhri was left alone to run the finances of the Sheikdom, at least four days a week!
As he walked me down to his car after the lunch, Tariq apologised for not being able to put more business the way of Deckams.
`We spread a further twenty per cent among fifty other banks and Abdou looks after the balance at the Geneva end. We would lose goodwill, if we reduced the number of smaller banks around the world.'
I stated that Deckams was very happy with its share and we would ensure that the Sheikdom remained equally happy, `and Tariq, I am doubly pleased that the Council of State and the Sheik are happy with my small tokens of appreciation. It is difficult to make a gift to such a body as the Council of State a private one. But that is what it is and where possible, I would not like any public mention of it. That is the only request I would make of the Sheik.'
`Jonathan, I shall see to it that you request is honoured,' Tariq replied.
The al-Kadir property was coming on in leaps and bounds. It was a marvellous sight to see line after line of slaves sweating in the sun as they put in Stan Mercer's system of irrigation and then other kofilas breaking the ground with their hoes and adzes in preparation first for the fertilisation and the then planting of the fields.
As a slave owner, with over a thousand slaves on my properties, I have come to realise that I actually do enjoy owning slaves. The realisation has taken a long time to gel, because I am an Englishman set in my schooling, training and ways. However, also I am a banker and as such I are trained to deal with life as it comes along and I try to make the most of it.
I enjoy the ownership of my slaves first for the simple pleasure that they bring me in serving me in a thousand ways, both metaphorically and literally, because as I say there are over a thousand of them. I enjoy seeing their naked forms giving me wage-free labour at my Palaces and their forced labour at my mine, all of this out of the sheer sense of power it brings. While I enjoy many of them for the beauty of their bodies, some I enjoy for their qualities of mind. Some further still, I enjoy for their simple loyalty or their skills.
In the greater scheme of things, I suppose I do contribute to slavery in the modern world. I somehow doubt that if I did not buy my slaves that there would be fewer slaves around. But as I do admit by buying them, I am effectively creating or helping to maintain a market in slaves.
I must hold up my hand and also confess that I have in my time ordered the lifting of slaves - Jean-Pierre to save him from drugs for his father and my very dear friend, Dr. Fournier; - Nigel Broaders for the heinous act he had committed though he would never associate it with his lifting and enslavement or the lifting of the millionaire Geoff Masters who only wanted a life of slavery as his ultimate goal.
I am contributing to slavery - a fact that I would never in my wildest dreams have admitted to a mere six years ago.
End of Chapter 21
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