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.
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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 ...