Dahran

This is the sixteenth chapter of part three of a trilogy of novels of gay sex.

Keywords:

authority, control, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, loyalty

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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Contact points:

e. gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com

w. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories

The Market Offer by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 16 -- Visitors

Just when I thought that the afternoon would calm down a bit, Gus Jennings, who was the deputy Finance Minister's stables overseer, arrived `to take a look at the new Palace' as he put it, but from the look in his eye, I knew that he had something else on his mind. It turned out that he was still unset about having recommended an unsuitable overseer to me, the Russian guy Ivan, but I told him, not once, but twice to put that thought out his mind.

I reminded him how `his' six slaves -- Radek, Flavio, Dumi, Vitali, Bob and Rolf whom he had trained for a month while I was first settling in the Aloe Palace -- were doing so superbly and working so well. That seemed to really please him.

I asked him how his boss, Tariq al-Akhri, the deputy Finance Minister was -- he was well - whenever Gus saw him. With that, Aziz, my head of household came out to greet Gus. They greeted each other with slight bows of the head like lords of all they surveyed and monarchs of kingdoms whose rights of overseership there was none to dispute.

Gus paid Aziz the ultimate tribute of one civil servant to the other -- the confidence between equals -- `Aziz, we have a new head of household who would make you weep. I won't tell you the disasters we have had.'

With that Yedo, Aziz' assistant, arrived -- all six foot eight of him - and I heard Gus murmur `My god, I heard of this guy. They build them big in Bulgaria.'

My other two guests for dinner that evening were Felipe and Ramon, the two Spaniards who had built the tennis courts at the Aloe Palace. There was such a demand for the sport in the evening before and after swimming, that it was almost taken for granted by me that sooner rather than later I would be asked if there were to be new courts at the Lime Palace, and so there were, beside the handball, volleyball and basketball areas.

The two Spaniards were staying for some days, though the slaves had done most of the backbreaking work in double quick time -- such was their eagerness to have the new courts.

`Felipe, I have assigned you again Vitali and Ross as your body slaves while you are here. And if you don't mind, Ramon, I shall have Ali and Jiri look after you again. Their massage technique has improved greatly in the past year.'

Ramon who had been so uptight last year about going nude and about being given a body slave, merely said, `Thank you, Sir Jonathan.'

Felipe smiled broadly as he remembered his pleasure previously at the hands and tongues and cocks of Ross and Vitali.

Dinner that evening which had been one of Flavio's usual superb offerings, a soupe de tous les legumes whose vegetables he mentioned were all from our farms, a veal tournedos with a cold cream and chive sauce -- excellent after the heat of the day - and ice-cream with afresh apricot sauce. My guests lingered over the coffee and a good Carlos I brandy, and I realised that even ex-pats abroad need the comforting contact of their own from time to time.

We had all retired early because the weather had become unusually sultry and humid for October, even with thunderstorms at night in the mountains and rumours of flash floods in the lower hills. I was putting some papers back in the safe, when my eyes fell on the reports on the some slaves which I had requested from Josh Green in the Grand Cayman and which had arrived a few weeks earlier.

What with the amount of work at the Bank and the transfer over to the Lime Palace a number of things had got behind. I resolved to see Stan, the water overseer, and Yuriy, the stables' overseer, the following day.

That night my playmate for the night was Bryce Sands and to my knowledge he was unique at the Lime Palace in that he was a widower -- his wife having been killed in a car crash before he was `lifted'. He had worked in a garage in Texas.

At twenty nine, he was lanky and nicely muscled but not overly so, and as he stood at `display' in the bedroom suite, like so many other slaves on their first night with me, their Master, he eyes betrayed his nervousness.

I believe in touching and gentle talking close to the ear of any such individual and I put my hand on his heart and said `Bryce, calm down. Tonight is a night for you to enjoy yourself. Did you buddy Scott not tell you anything nice about his night here with me?'

`Master, he could not stop talking about it. You just don't know Scott when he gets going.'

`And you, Bryce, what do you like sexwise?'

`The truth, Master?'

`The truth, Bryce.'

`I like to fuck missionary style, but what I really like is just to have someone in my arms -- but that not really sex is it, Master?'

`Wrong, Bryce, it is in fact two types of sex. Now while I take a quick shower, I want you to think of something for me.'

`Yes, Master,' he said a bit puzzled.

`Yes. Tell me when I come out, the three things you don't like about the Lime Palace?'

`That I don't like about the Lime Palace -- you mean about living here or working here or what?

`The three things you think are wrong and should be changed. Now let me grab a shower.'

`Ok Bryce. Time up,' I said as I came out of the shower towelling my hair.

`Well, Master, the first thing would have to be the size of the laundry bill,' and he grinned from ear to ear. As the slaves did not wear clothes, there was no laundry as such.

I could not help but grin back at his impish sense of humour.

`No seriously, Master. The heat perhaps. It is very hot here at times, out in the fields.'

I just looked at him and waited for him to continue.

`The food is a bit monotonous.'

The slaves just ate the special diet biscuits to keep them perfectly fit and at the correct body weight.

`The heat. The food. What else Bryce?'

He hesitated. He was not good at concealing his thoughts, which the jut of his doubting shoulders revealed.

`Spit it out, Bryce. Do you think I am going to think less of you for saying that I am a bastard?'

`Oh, no, Master, it's not you...not you at all. It's just that some of the other slaves do not work very hard in the fields and leave work for the others to do?'

This was news to me and the sort of news I did not like. But that was not his problem. So I pulled him to the bed and lay back missionary style, and said `Now what were you saying about sex, Bryce?' as I raised my legs and put them on his shoulders.

At inspection that the following morning those of the prisoner-slaves who completed their first thirty days at the Palace without problem received a gold necklace each. Even though they had seen others wearing theirs, when it was their turn to actually get their own, they seem to be most astonished at getting something so beautiful and so uniquely personal. But in a way as well, it was a sign that they now belonged to me, in both title and in possession.

I mentioned after breakfast to the overseers the problem of the work not being done which Bryce had mentioned.

Greg murmured, `A little retraining, I think, Master.'

Yuriy was over from the Aloe Palace and Stan suggested oxen buddies with each of the new arrivals for at least sixty days, and I agreed to this.

Aziz did not offer an opinion one way or another, but noted that buddies were to remain in place for double the time where necessary.

I mentioned to Stan and Yuriy that I wanted to speak with them privately. Yuriy who had the more pressing duties came in first into my study.

`I am sorry, Boss, about the workers. That is my fault. I am sorry.'

`Yuriy, that is not what I want to talk to you about. I am sure you will sort that out, one way or the other and perhaps with a couple of days retraining where your powers of persuasion fail you.'

I was thinking of the utter fear he had put into Marek and Jerzy when they first arrived with a single roar in Russian.

No, I wanted you to see this' and I showed him a file with Yuriy Obov' stamped across its front.

`I wanted to find out more about you and had an investigation done.'

Yuriy did not seem to understand.

`An enquiry into your background in Kazakhstan. You had a fine army record there.'

`Yes, Boss, I joined the army two days after my eighteenth birthday and when I was nineteen and a half, I got into the Spetnaz. I...'

He seemed to be lost for words for a second.

`I was a comfort boy of one of the majors who got posted to the Spetnaz and he had me transferred. No sooner was I there, than he found someone else, and I just continue training for the special services with an old Major who became my friend and teacher.'

`Yes, and you were promoted in the field to Lieutenant and then to Captain.'

`Yes, Boss, those were great days on the Afghan border. Others did not like it. But the lads and me loved the work.'

`It says here that you have no family.'

`No, Boss. My parents were both sent to work camps. My grandparents on Lake Ozero reared me. I have no brothers or sisters.'

`Girlfriend, perhaps?'

`Yes, Boss, a number of girlfriends. None for very long, because we would be moved around. I remember one girl very well, Irina. I was with her the longest. That was in Chimkent, but she was from Bukhara in Uzbekistan. A great girl. She was only twenty and worked in a food factory.'

I slipped a photo across the table to Yuriy. It showed a very pretty blond woman in her late twenties with her two hands on the shoulder of a blond haired boy outside a shop.

`Boss, that's my Irina. Where did you get it?'

`The man hired to do the job located her. Look again at the photo. Who else do you see?'

`Irina and a boy.'

Not a boy', Yuriy, your boy. His name is Yurikin -- little Yuriy. He is your son. I thought you would like to know.'

Yuriy was not saying anything but his eyes were filling up very quickly.

`You are a great worker here, Yuriy, and I though you would like to know about this. You see the food shop behind Irina. That is her shop, which has been bought for her and for Yurikin. She moved back to Bukhara. She now supplies four of the biggest hotels in Bukhara with specialty foods flown in from Europe to her shop alone.'

Yuriy's wet fingers were touching the photo of his son and his former girlfriend.

`Read the file then it goes in the safe. You will see one thing though. Irina is thinking of marrying a Sergeiy Dimitrikov. He was also in the army.'

`I know him. He was in the Spetnaz unit with me. He was a strange lad, a very gentle lover, and if he marries Irina, he will be good to her.'

`I had hoped, Yuriy, that you would say that. I cannot do anything about your status here, but we can both look out for Irina and Yurikin, if you let me help them.'

He nodded and started to read the file slowly.

Twenty minutes later, Yuriy pushed the file back towards me. He kissed the photo of his son and put it inside the folder.

`That was a lifetime away, Boss. My new life is here.'

Yuriy Obov's ability to put things into their proper perspective was one of his greatest organisational talents.

When the following year's updated report came in, Irina was holding a baby in her arms in front of the shop with her new husband beside her and Yurikin again to the front, this time holding a skateboard.

When Yuriy saw the photo, he just grinned and said `Sergeiy Ivanovich could always shoot hard and fast, and it looks like he has not lost the talent for it. Do you see how much, Yurikin, has grown in a year, Boss?

Just look at how big he is!' and as he went to kiss the photo, Yuriy stopped and looked at it again. Sergeiy Ivanovich Dimitrikov had his had resting over his chest and his first two fingers were intertwined.

Yuriy told me it had been their special sign -- Yuriy and Sergeiy -- Sergeiy and Yuriy. It was as if he had known when the photo was being taken that one day Yuriy would see it and know that he was taking care of the family, just as he had been batman to Yuriy in the Spetnaz. This all came out much later, when Yuriy and I talked and told me some of his army yarns. But now, he kissed the photo and again slipped it into the folder for another year.

The other slave overseer I had wanted to see was Stan Mercer, the New Zealand geologist, who had found me the seemingly inexhaustible supply of water on the property of the Lime Palace.

`How did you know I wanted to see you, Boss?' was the first thing he asked.

`I didn't, Stan, I have a report here I want to talk to you about. But you first.'

`Ok, boss. I have been puzzled for the past month by the water pressure in the two wells.'

He was referring to the two wells that we had drilled down to just around four hundred feet under the Lime Palace lands. Geology is not my strong suit, and Stan knew that, so I let him explain matters in his own way.

`Boss, we have been taking water from the wells now for over six months. There should be very very slight drops in the pressure of the water from time to time, but there is not.'

`Stan, I know you explain things well, but simple English please.'

`Boss, if you pour water out of kettle, the kettle should get empty. Here the water being forced out of the earth is being forced out at the same pressure -- almost the same pressure -- all the time. That means that the water reservoir underneath us is filling up from a height just as quickly as we take the water out.'

I was looking at him. That sort of made sense, I think.

`It was only last week, when the rains fell in the mountains and there were flash floods in the foothills that the penny dropped when I saw the readings.'

Again, Stan had lost me and he saw it.

`Boss, three days after the rains in the mountains, the pressure went up and almost off the scale in the wells. The water from the mountains had somehow got down, or forced previous waters already in the ground, into our reservoir. This, Boss, is like having a kettle with the water pouring out of it at one end, as in our wells, and a tap of water filling the kettle the same time into the other end, like the rains from the mountains.'

`So what you are saying, Stan, is that we have truly an inexhaustible supply of water.'

`You have it in one, Boss, in one!'

I let that piece of good news sink in a second, and smiled at my own basic grasp of hydrology.

`Well, Stan, let me give you also some good news. I had a report done on you back in New Zealand.'

Stan had gone very still.

`I did not realise you had no family at all.'

`No, Boss, I was reared in an orphanage.'

`Yes, just outside Invercargill. St Michael's Orphanage. Then to the local school and on to the University of Dunedin on a half-scholarship.'

`Yes, Boss. Those were the days. I worked in a pub in the evenings. That was my one full meal a day, and pocket money to get through the uni year.'

`Stan, St. Michael's Orphanage is still there and through an organisation I am connected with, the Buddy Foundation, I have set up a two million dollar trust fund for the orphanage. The immediate effect was that they all got new pyjamas and swimming togs among other things. But the orphanage will get each year from now on about a quarter of a million euro each year in dividends from the trust to help it. I also want you to look at this tape. Will you put it in the video over there?'

Stan obliged and a scene unravelled of persons in gowns sitting before a stage, where someone was reading from a text:

`The Buddy Foundation is pleased to announce the five million dollar endowment of the Stanley Kingsley Mercer Chair of Geology at the University of Dunedin and wishes the senate of the University well in finding a first suitable candidate for this new Chair' and then the screen went grey.

`It's my way, Stan, of saying thanks for all your hard work. If you want, we can get a yearly update on the orphanage.'

`You know, Boss, at times things were so bad financially at the orphanage that we used share shoes with one another when we had to go out. Yes. I think I'd like to see how the kids get on there each year. '

It was typical of Stan that he thought of the orphanage first before himself or the new chair at the university that had been created in his name and honour.

Statistically speaking, Stan was in the majority of the slaves at the Lime Palace. The majority who had no family in the world other than their fellow slaves.

To be continued..