Date: Sat, 14 Feb 2004 16:03:23 +0000 From: Gerry Taylor Subject: The Dahran Way - Chapter 17 - Gay - Authoritarian This is the seventeenth chapter ex twenty two of a novel about slavery and gay sex. Keywords: authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, gay, sex 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. If you are underage to read this kind of material or if this material is unlawful for you to read where you live, please leave this webpage now. Contact points: e: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com w: http://www.geocities.com/gerrytaylor_78/ w: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories Yahoo! Messenger : gerrytaylor_78 The Dahran Way Chapter 17 The importance of esteem Andy McTee Every slave, who has adapted to his status has the wish to know his value to a Master, be appreciated or at least fleetingly acknowledged. Self-esteem is needed in all humans, freemen and slaves -- a knowledge of our worth and value. Unless a slave needs to know his value to a Master in a totally submissive existence. This does not mean that the slave is always looking for the explicit approval of the Master, because many slaves have busy lives with little direct supervision. One of a slave's greatest fears is to be perceived as worthless and therefore to be dispensed with. A slave, who is submissive to his Master's wishes gains self-esteem from the thought that he has a job to do for his Master; that he does his job well for his Master; and finally, that the Master knows all of the above and knows him. A well-adapted slave's self-esteem springs chiefly from interaction with the person whom he is serving. And a submissive slave hopes that his Master will also love him. Self-esteem is like the air in the bubble or in the balloon -- invisible, but essential for the shape and structure of balloon itself. A true slave will quite happily perform his duty while that self-esteem is in place and even if it is not, but self-esteem makes those unpleasant duties and there are at times unpleasant ones, all the more bearable. Esteem is three-pronged where it exists. It starts with esteem of yourself and of your own abilities. It is followed by the esteem in, which you hold others and then by the esteem in, which others hold you. I saw its lack the day Andy McTee was first purchased by me -- half-starved by a former Master, in need of a special diet for months to undo the damage caused by a lack of calcium. I saw its growth with his slow realisation that he not only was a good English teacher, but a great one. After his purchase, Andy had been bedded by both Yuriy, now my head of stables at the Aloe Palace and by his lover Radek. He never had any further problems, he said, with man-to-man sex after that. In fact, he said that it gave him great confidence in dealing with his adult slave students. I had heard from one of the slaves about a student, who had not been making an effort in English class. Andy whom I had regarded as somewhat meek and mild, had told the slave to come forward, bend down and grasp the back of his knees. Andy had gone out, got some lubricant, come back and oiled the slave's butt-hole to the merriment of the class. One or two of the class had got a hard-on from the scene, so Andy called one of them up and had him unceremoniously fuck the bent-over slave before the entire class. `Do you know why I ordered that? he asked the slave, standing now quite embarrassed with cum running down his legs. `Without effort on your part, which includes learning English and many other things at the Palace, which you will be taught here, you will be worth nothing more to the Master than a pair of hands for field-work or a butt-hole for some other slave's pleasure. If this happens again, you will be fucked by every slave in this class.' The slave, who related this to me, said that there was absolute silence in the class as that particular lesson sank in and the fucked slave never gave a problem again. I found myself free on the afternoon of the day when one of the batches of European prisoner slaves were at language lessons and came over to the first compound to inspect them. The lessons took place under an awning over the four midday hours when the heat of the day is at its highest. I arrived just as Andy McTee was finishing the first English lesson and bidding them goodbye. All five slaves had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, no doubt feeling the butt-plugs, which stay inserted all day with every shifting of weight. They quickly made an obeisance and went to `display' when told to by their teacher. I nodded to the training overseers, who had been seated silently on the side for surveillance and then addressed the group of slaves. `Andy is one of our best teachers. He is here to teach you English. So, learn it well in the next six months. Andy is the best. You will be the best.' I looked at Andy. He was blushing at the praise. `I will walk with you to the door, Andy..' As Rob unlocked the exit from the first compound for him, I asked Andy, `How are you getting on with the Mistress?' I was referring to Fiona. `Very, very well, Master.' He did not volunteer more. `Will I be hearing from you in some months time?' I had made a promise to Andy to buy him back from Fiona, if he was unhappy after being sold to her. He had been my first sale of a slave. `I think not, Master. But, if it pleases you, I will come back to you when the six months are up. And Master, thank you for what you said to the class.' `Andy, every word of it was true. Your teaching ability matches Roge Harte's body or Yuriy Obov's farm management. It is superb. By the way, I saw your name on a list, which Tommy Saunders was compiling for this week. You really should have been taken off it, but I forgot to tell him.' Andy did not understand what I was saying and queried, `Tommy Saunders runs some special programme for you, Master?' `Yes, Andy. We'll talk some evening during the week. Do you have any further lessons today?' `Yes, Master, in an hour and a half.' `Maybe you would like to take a relaxing swim before yet another group of students.' `For me, Master, no group so far has been just yet another group of students. They are all interesting in their own way.' `Well, these five must certainly have been interesting!' `I think they will make progress if given time, Master. None of them seems to have much confidence yet in his own abilities to learn anything, but they are making an effort.. As it is a group of just five, I can address every single one of them again and again and have them speak and practise individually. A teacher's dream in comparison to teaching a class of thirty or forty, I can tell you, Master.' `I am glad to hear it. Don't forget your swim.' `Thank you, Master.' Upon my return under the awning's shade, the five trainees were standing, unplugged now, at `display' for my inspection. Even after six days they looked well and I told them that. I ran my hand over each of their smooth bodies. Felt the weight of their remaining ball in my left hand, squeezed it every so lightly in approval and with a smile clapped them on the shoulder, saying `Well done.' I had each slave bend over and I ran my hand over the smooth buttocks and down their cracks until touching their butt-holes. The sphincter muscles of each anus were not quite soft and I pressed their puckered tightness gently to check that the butt-plug had been working and to assert my dominion over each slave. Two of them had beautifully rounded buttocks and I thought that I might be seeing more of them when fully trained. Four of the five had either a foreskin removed or a fraenulum cut and still had small dressings in place. I merely raised the bandaged penis in my hand when inspecting these slaves and smiled my approval. The training even at this early stage was holding. None of the slaves protested at having their bodies touched, as if to say that the gentle touch of their Master, another man, was to be welcomed. None moved even a fraction of an inch when my fingers touched their most intimate orifice, their butt-hole, acknowledging with their silence that the Master had a right to touch where he wished. Twelve days later, I paid the group another visit on the morning after they had advanced from the second to the third compound. In their second phase of training, they had been under the surveillance of a team led by Joao, my Brazilian trainer and Spyros, the Greek trainer, who are an excellent case of teamwork. They form a symbiotic pair of trainers, who know what the other is going to order before the command is ever given and can pass slaves backwards and forwards between them with a mere raising of the eyebrows. The two alternating procedures in the second compound are races around the inside of the compound walls and secondly a series of some thirty steel bars some two and a half meters over the sands of the compound. The slave runs up a ramp and swings like a gibbon from one bar to the next until arriving at the ramp at the other end. The slave then runs back and lines up to start again. After four such swings on the hanging bars, slaves start dropping to the sand as they lose their grips. The pain is on the arms and upper chest muscles as they are stretched and strengthened. Spyros and Joao never tick off failure when drops to the sand occur but count the completion of the `runs.' Again the those with the lowest completion of runs receive in reverse order five, four or three strokes of the cane. In the third compound Scott Billins, a former farmhand from Iowa, is one of my best American trainers. Scott loved the land and farming and he had marvellous patience -- maybe from waiting for crops to grow -- in the training of slaves. I have never seen him lose his patience or be in any way put out by a slave's attitude. Rather he is like a quiet teacher, waiting for the right moment to explain what is what yet again. Upon my entrance, Scott merely said quietly `obeisance' to have his five charges kneel on the ground and lower their heads between their hands. Walking around them, I noticed the bases of the `size three' butt-plugs firmly inserted in their rectums, the sphincter muscles clamping down on each close-to-bottom groove. This third variety of butt-plugs was shaped like a stubby penis, as I remembered well from selecting them for my en gros purchase at Shariff Khan's establishment. While every one of the five trainees showed signs of the cane, one showed multiple weals from the flogging he had received on previous occasions. He had been the one, who had had the lowest number of points in the second compound and as the programme demanded been given the choice of thirty strokes of a four-foot camel-cane and to rise with his class to compound three, or the option of remaining behind his class and repeating compound two with thirty strokes of a three-foot camel-cane. He had preferred to being flogged quickly and have it over and done with, rather than repeat six days in compound two. The training overseers are conscious that even in those few days, bonds will have been forged with the rest of the group and this must have influenced the slave's decision to submit to the four-foot cane. The slave had been left behind tied to a flogging frame to the side of the second compound and his spread-eagled figure had been the sight that had greeted my next group of prisoner slaves as they had advanced from their first to their second stage of training. With the new group's eyes riveted to the spectacle, Joao had administered the thirty strokes moving from shoulders down to buttocks on to thighs. With each searing stroke, the slave's cries had echoed from the compound walls. A memory never forgotten by the incoming slaves. I had Scott continue with the slaves' training and settled down under the awning to watch. In the middle of the third compound, there is a set of thirty or so tyres each with its gaping central eye looking skywards. It is easy to suggest that it is simple to run over and through thirty tyres, but to do it at ten second intervals after the preceding slave for over two hours quite literally on the trot, will leave the slave gasping for water at every thirty minutes in the Dahran heat. Water is quite liberally given on the run, but the training does not stop and the butt-plug works is stretching magic as legs themselves are stretched. Because of the ungainly manner in, which the slaves have to run through the tyres laid out on the sand, they have been compared with rabbits running across a field in a jagged line and the procedure has been called the `run rabbit' technique. While I was there, the tyre runs brought one slave to his knees begging his overseer Scott to allow him to stop. He had stumbled a number of times going through the tyres as I looked on. Under the coating of Aloe sunscreen, dust and rivulets of sweat running down his back, the lines from the previous evening's flogging could be seen covering the entire back of his body. Scott took the slave by the arm speaking softly to him. I was not close enough to hear what was being said, but the words had a calming effect. A cup of water gratefully received and quickly drunk and the slave was at the beginning of the run again, with Scott suggesting to him with hand-gestures to slow down and get the rhythm of the run. When the slave had completed it, Scott was there with a big grin on his face and with a pat on the back to the slave, sending him back to the start yet again. The slaves have no knowledge how long their training is going to take or how many compounds are involved, other than they are progressing. While some slaves are clearly not the sharpest pencils in the pack, most are like ordinary people and quite intelligent and some are very intelligent. I would say that on average, the prisoner-slaves coming from Europe were clever, sly and crafty, rather than intelligent. Being in jail showed that lack of intelligence. One can always suggest that jail is for the little people; the great rogues of history change the laws and make their crimes non-criminal. All of the slaves are intelligent enough to form the conclusion sooner of later that there is no way for them out of training hell than by submitting to all the trainers' commands making the greatest effort they are physically capable of and then some more. End of chapter 17 To be continued...