Date: Thu, 30 Dec 2004 14:06:57 +0000
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Seventh Desert - Chapter 13 - Gay - Authoritarian

This is the thirteenth  chapter (ex twenty two) of a novel about
present-day slavery and gay sex.

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

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.



		 Chapter 13 -- The motivation of marzipan



  The medical staff and I together with Sir Alan Young who was back on
one of his sporadic visits, were having dinner on the veranda. It had
been a delightful supper a light rocket lettuce with balsamic vinegar and
goat's cheese as hors d'oeuvre, a simple plate of fettuccine ai funghi
and a lime sorbet for coolness in the heat.

  The slaves, or some of them at least, were still sitting in the
courtyard, some having gone wandering off in the gardens, when there was
the sound of feet running in unison and a group of some ten slaves came
jogging around the edge of the courtyard, followed by a further ten. Each
group of ten was being followed by its own trainer-coach, if that were
the word and there was an almost rhythmic marine-like chant being sung by
each group. Running also beside the two groups was Rolf Hanzer, my Gym
Manager, who on passing threw me a left-handed salute and a big smile. I
merely waved back not knowing what was going on.

  My Head of Table was serving at that moment so I asked `Bob, what's
this?'

  `That's Rolf's new PB programme, Boss. Top secret.'

  `What is it?'

  `Top secret, Boss. Only Rolf can tell you.'

  `How would you like a couple of weeks, Bob, on the waterwheels?'

  `You wouldn't do that to me, Boss, would you?' and he looked
dubiously over at Sir Alan as well trying to gauge if I was serious or
joking.

  I smiled my most evil grin and Bob looked worried.

  `Boss, don't say you heard it from me. It's PBs'

  `PBs? What are PBs?'

  `Personal Bests, Boss. Rolf has devised this new programme for all the
slaves in the Palaces, no exceptions at all; even Master Gustav's Swedes
are included. All the Heads of Household and Stables are in agreement on
it. It's very simple. Each month everyone must produce a Personal Best
in just one of ten fields of fitness.'

  `Ten fields of fitness?'

  `Yes, Boss, each slave can choose out of any of nearly a hundred
tests. Fifty push-ups, sit-ups, twenty five lengths of the pool in any of
the styles, you name it. He has it down on his list. Each slave can
choose ten and must produce a Personal Best each month in at least one of
them. Rolf says that once you level out in any test, you simply choose a
new one in which to improve.'

  `And if the slave doesn't,' Sir Alan interjected.

  `Then, Sir Alan, you are on a two-week two-hours a day extra get-fit
course. These are the first twenty who have not produced a Personal Best
in the past month. These PBs are not easy, Boss, I can tell you. A little
more Sancerre?'

  As a wine glass was being refilled, in a clear attempt to misdirect the
conversation away from `PBs', I smiled to myself. Rolf had asked for
two extra assistants and had ended up with three. That must have been
part of his plan.



  As I said, Sir Alan was staying with us again for a few days having
flown in from Amman, where he was ostensibly at a conference and had
delivered another of his papers.

  Despite his original misinformed opinions on slavery and slavedom--now
accepting that slavery did exist in some parts of the world--his ideas
had matured quite a lot on the useful position of slaves in society and
the enslaving of those who in one part of society no longer had a viable
function, but at least for some slaves at least, who in another part of
society, as in Dahra, had an important role to play and a humane
existence far removed from prison bars and the opprobrium of society. He
had come or so it appeared to me, to a more watered-down opinion that not
all slave owners were arrogant or criminal, as what is approved by law in
one country is condemned by law in the next. In this sense, he began to
enjoy taking advantage of the legal privileges of slavery in Dahra.

  Sir Alan had formed an attachment for a blond Estonian slave who worked
on the farms. He was a hard and diligent worker, who had a splendid bush
of reddish blond pubic hair and an equally splendid and proportioned
cock. The Knight and the slave got on tremendously well, as indeed did
the slave's regular buddy.

  I deemed it very thoughtful of Sir Alan when he arrived that he told me
he had a small present for his favourite and would I object were he to
give the slave the present. It was a small box about ten inches long of
two lines of marzipan sweets, made into the shape of various pieces of
fruit. I said, I had no objection whatsoever and thanked Sir Alan for his
courtesy and thoughtfulness in asking me first.

  We were in my study when this conversation took place and upon going
out to take a stroll in the gardens before dinner who were in the
portico, on the other side of the courtyard but Sir Alan's favourite
slave and his buddy. The Palace grapevine had not failed them. I
signalled them across, and they came at a gallop and made obeisance to me
-- they not having previously seen me that day and we were all outside
the Palace itself. The two slaves then went and stood `at rest', their
hands behind their backs and their chests proudly pushed forward, so that
pectoral muscles and nipples are at best display for the Master.

  `We have a visitor who has returned to the Lime Palace. Will you both
be able to look after him?' I said as Sir Alan appeared into view.

  `Yes, Master,' the two slaves chorused, grinning at each other.

  `Sir Alan has brought you a gift,' I said to the Estonian slave, and
Sir Alan extended the box of marzipans, visible through the transparent
clear plastic top, to the slave who took it, as if it were the crown
jewels of a kingdom and kissed Sir Alan's hand.

  `Thank you, sir. I will share them with my buddy and we will both look
after you while you are here as if we were looking after the Master
himself.'

  The Estonian slave's eyes were shining bright with pride that the
Master's friend had brought a present. He was a sturdy yet slim blond. I
had never bedded him myself, but had told him that he was to keep himself
only for his own buddy and Sir Alan. He had looked very pleased with that
being assigned such an important job directly by his Master.

  Again, the ability of the slaves generally to think about their buddies
came across to me very forcibly. The buddy slave also kissed Sir Alan's
hand and then dropped on his knees to kiss his feet, which the Estonian
copied. They stayed for some seconds on their knees with their bums up in
the air.

  `A glorious sight, Sir Alan, would you not agree?' I said with a
laugh.

  `Yes. Most definitely! And a sight that I will put to good use.'



  I had not intended to enquire further about Rolf Hanzer's fitness
programme because I knew that Rolf, being Rolf, would in time get back to
me on it. There are those who believe that a Master knows everything that
goes on within his ownership of slaves. In a large establishment, to say
nothing of one comprising two palaces and three extensive farmlands, that
is simply not the case. Believe you me.

  For over a week after first stopping the teams jogging around the
Palaces, I still did not know precisely what was going on with slaves
being put through their paces around the grounds of the Lime Palace. I
even saw some of the Overseers participating in the runs. Runs now seemed
to include the pathways of the Lemon Palace as well.

  I had asked Bob, who looks after my table and under threat of being put
on a water-wheel for a month or so, he did give me some information, but
not a lot.

  One afternoon, after a swim, I finally asked Rolf Hanzer, my Gym
Manager, what was going on, he merely replied with a big grin `You might
say a test run, Boss, of a new training programme. I won't know the
results for at least another week or so.'

  `Something to do with the three new assistants you needed and whom I
allowed you have from those slaves who arrived from the opal mine?'

  `Yes, Boss, something like that,' he said evasively.

   `So, not even giving you all these new assistants gets me more
information on what you're doing?'

  `Boss, if it works I'll tell you. If it doesn't, I don't want to
appear a fool.'

  There was little chance of my Swiss-German Gym Manager ever appearing a
fool, so I left him to his devices.

  As we were speaking, one of the groups of ten came back and stood there
`at rest', perspiring in the evening air, with steam rising off their
bodies, which admittedly looked very appealing. I could not see any
common denominator as to why any of them were in the group.

  `Okay, okay,' I said, in mock frustration.

  `Thanks, Boss, for your trust,' Rolf said with a grin as I walked
away.

  At times, a Master has to give leeway to the slave whom he trusts and I
thought that this was one such particular occasion.



  It wasn't for a further ten days that Rolf Hanzer came to me beaming
with the first results of his programme.

  `Boss, I didn't want to tell you until I knew it was working. It is
working and working beautifully; if I say so myself. I have this new
computer programme from Jens. The new assistants put in all the data and
every slave in the Palaces can check his rating, from the top guys among
the seven hundred and fifty or so slaves right down to the worst
performing slave of all. Each slave is on a programme of performing of
their own choice any one of ten Personal Bests. The first two groups of
ten are getting fitter by the day.'

  `Rolf, I know you are a genius of a Gym Manager. But you have lost me
already. So what is this programme really about?'

  `Boss, it's an ongoing programme to keep the slaves you own in
tip-top physical condition for your pleasure,' and he held out a
printout to me, of which I could make neither head nor tail.

  `Boss, I want you to have the most beautiful slaves in all of Dahra. I
know the differing types you like and I want to train those we have to be
as close to what you like.'

  I looked at Rolf in amazement that a slave could be so concerned about
the well-being of the slaves I owned and who wanted them in tip-top shape
for my own enjoyment. I merely said, `Rolf, I love it,' and Rolf's
face lit up.

  One of my first and original slaves beamed at the praise given, and he
knelt down beside me and started to explain its rationale.



  In fact, Rolf's programme turned out to be so simple, it was indeed
the work of a genius. Each of the slaves had a choice of tests to do and
if they failed them, it indicated that they were not as fit as they
thought and so onto the fitness course.

  `Boss, I have only one question to ask of you and it is a matter of
taste.'

  `And what is that?'

  `Do you like well defined nipples or not?'

  I looked at him and thought, `what an odd question'.

  `You mean to say, you don't know what I like after all these years?'

  `Boss, some slaves say you play with their nipples, others say that
you don't. You have touched mine when I've been in bed with you, but
not really played with them.'

  `Rolf, I answer you this way. I like sensitive skin on a slave. If
that sensitive skin is in the nipple area and playing or sucking the
nipples gets a reaction, I am all for it. So why this line of
questioning?'

  `Boss, you know the House of Khan brochure we got with the last set of
gym equipment? One of the new items they have is nipple trainers which
can make nipples bigger, longer and more sensitive.'

  `How long? How big?'

  `Up to an inch and a half longer, almost four centimetres and half as
wide again.'

  `Rolf, I do know what an inch and a half is in metric. So, what's the
problem?'

  `The procedure is rather painful for about a month.'

  `How would you know?' and I knew I had caught Rolf out. He blushed.

  `Because Master, I took the liberty of ordering half-a-dozen pair. You
know, Master, that I always ask you first before ordering anything, but I
wanted this to be a surprise. I know the physical type you like and I
want to help develop it with good training.'

  `Rolf, don't `Master' me to get on my better side.'

  The order of some items of small value did not bother me. Rather my
curiosity was piqued.

  `Sorry, Boss.'

  `Well, do they work?'

  `I think so, Boss. I have only tested them a couple of times so far
and the result seems promising.'

  `Get me a pair and let me see them.'

  `Yes, Boss,' and he made a move to fetch a pair.

  Something was niggling me at the back of my mind and it clicked in my
memory.

  `On the way back, bring those two Kurds I bought the other day.'

  I had recently acquired a selection of additional household help for
the Lemon Palace. Among them were two Kurdish slaves, who at their first
auction had been snatched by the House of Khan. After two months of being
available to shoppers for implement testing, the Pakistani merchant had
sold them on as was his wont.



  The nipple trainers were like two large coins with a hole in the
centre. Placed over the nipple, a clear plastic suction cap was merely
squeezed to extract the air. Thus the nub of the nipple was pulled
through the hole of the trainer. It was as simple a product as physics
would allow, being held in place by nothing more than a vacuum. As the
nipple came through the trainer hole of the `coin', the suction cap was
squeezed again a couple of times and the nub of the nipple was pulled
further through the hole.

  I tested it briefly on Rolf who looked a bit uncomfortable wearing it.

  `Painful?'

  `A little bit, Boss.'

  `But then you have nice nipples, Rolf. Do they actually need
re-training?'

  `Thank you, Boss, for saying so. It is up to you to say if they have
to be improved.'

  `They are fine, Rolf, as they are. Your little nubs always look well.
It is a matter of proportion, don't you think? Now how do I get it off
you?'

  `You just slip this bit of plastic, or any flat surface between the
metal and the skin of my chest, Boss.'

  I did and there was an audible pop and the nipple re-trainer was in my
hand.

  At that moment, the two Kurds arrived accompanied by a Greek slave I
had purchased in the same batch of domestic servants.

  `Why are you here?' I asked the Greek.

  `Master, I go, where they go.'

  For a reply, it seemed eminently sensible. Not very accurate, but
practical to say the least. Find one and you would find all three!

  I held out two pairs of the nipple trainers to the two Kurds. There was
a flash of both insight and fear. They knew precisely what the trainers
were for. They took them out of their foil and proceeded to put them on
their nipples, which were already standing proud on their chests.

  The Greek slave was looking at the two Kurds with his eyes wide, wide
open. Was there the wish at the back of them that he had stayed wherever
he had been? His own chest was underdeveloped, but his two nipples were
small, brown and well developed. I handed him a third pair of trainers in
foil and taking the foil off with practised ease, he was looking at the
progress of the two Kurds as they pinched the suction caps.

  It was not a question of astrophysics for the Greek slave and soon he
too had the trainers on his chest and pinched the suction caps until the
trainers seemed to be sitting properly.

  `You know about these?' I asked the Kurds in Arabic.

  `Yes, Master' was said and echoed.

  `How often have you worn them?'

  `Several times a day for the past two months, Master. Since we were
first bought by Master Khan.'

  `Do you have better formed nipples now than when you first used
them?'

  `Oh, yes, Master. Our nipples were flat before, now they have a nice
pointed centre all the time.'

  The Greek was just kneeling there. I reached over and pumped the
suction cap a couple of times. The nipple came through the hole quite
visibly. The slave gasped in pain with a shortness of breath.

  `So, Rolf, what are you going to do then when the slave feels the
pain?'

  `Swimming and press-ups can be painful, Master, but jogging either
over a distance or on the spot is not.'

  I slipped the plastic release under the metal on the Kurds' nipples
and there were four very satisfying `pops' and a couple of relief
sounding gasps from each slave. Neither said a word.

  I just kept looking at the Greek slave and he did not move. He was `at
display'. I was still looking at him, when he reached out his hand, took
mine in his and brought his lips down to kiss the back of my hand, saying
a single word in English, `Master'.

  `Well, Rolf, what do you think of that?' in Arabic.

  Rolf was smiling at the Greek.

  `I think, Boss, that slave will go far,' Rolf replied in the same
language which the Greek slave did not know yet.

  I motioned the slave closer and slipped the plastic under the metal of
each trainer and released his straining nipples, which even after those
few minutes looked like miniature volcanoes and quite flushed.

  Again, the slave took my hand, kissed it and said `eucharistoó,
Master,' which from his grateful nature I took to mean `thank you'.

  I patted his head and gave his a scratch behind his ear at which he
grinned. With a flick of my head, I sent the three slaves off whence they
had arrived.

  `Okay, Rolf, make these nipple trainers part of this programme of
yours if you wish and let's see the results when you get them.'

  `Thanks, Boss, I'll get a further proper batch of them.'

  The slaves on his get-fit programme were not to know what was going to
hit them with those nipple trainers. Of that I was quite sure and I was
also quite sure that they would help the slave re-focus on their slavedom
and what it meant to be a slave to me their Master, by keeping fit at all
times, in readiness to serve my wishes.

  `So, Rolf, how many slaves are going to be on this programme of
yours?'

  `Only those, Boss, who fail one of the ten tests that they have chosen
for themselves. For example, if a test is chosen at which the slave is
very bad, like chin-ups, the slave can improve his timing on it once to
get rid of the test and then choose another test programme.'

  `Rolf, I think you have thought of everything. Each month let me see
your ten most improved slaves. Do you think they should be rewarded for
their effort somehow?'

  `Boss, you don't have to, but if you did, and the reward was
something small but interesting, the programme would be a roaring
success.'

  `Okay, Rolf, let me think of a really good reward and I'll get back
to you.'

  The type of reward came to me as I was walking through the gardens and
I laughed to myself at its simplicity.

  I gave Faisal my driver the assignment to pick up some brochures and
catalogues and on coming back from the Bank one afternoon, I thought that
I might have the solution for a reward.



End of Chapter 13

To be continued...



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