Date: Thu, 20 Jan 2005 12:54:44 +0000
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Seventh Desert - Chapter 17 - Gay - Authoritarian

The Seventh Desert by Gerry Taylor

This is the seventeenth  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 17 -- The service from slaves

  Todd Allen is one of the farm Supervisors; he looks after one section
of the vegetable farms in getting ready the early morning delivery of
vegetables, which are collected for the capital city's markets, but
before being lifted he was a long-distance truck and lorry driver. I told
Ben, my secretary, to go find him. When he appeared some minutes later,
he had a number of files in his hand.

  He came up to me and made a full obeisance though for an Overseer that
was not technically necessary.

  `Todd, if you were to choose a coach or bus to seat around twenty
which of these would you go for?' and I handed him the brochures from
various dealerships. He seemed a bit surprised and put down the folders.

  The brochures which I had Faisal, my driver, go round previously to
collect at the dealerships in the capital city were catalogues of small
buses or coaches. He had come back with ten. Faisal is a great messenger.
He never queries an order and never appears surprised. If he were not a
freeman, he would make an excellent slave.

  `That's the only criterion. To seat up to twenty? How soon do you
want an answer, Boss?'

  `Yes, up to twenty or so. Whenever. You decide on which would be the
best one, price-wise, service-wise, every-which-wise.'

  `Okay, Boss, I'll read them right away. I thought you wanted to see
me about the production targets.'

  `These the files?'

  `Yes, Boss.'

  `I'll read them and give them back to you when you come back.'

  This I did and I thought to myself that a good slave like Todd should
always be thinking how to serve his Master best. As one of my first
slaves, an American, he had settled in very nicely into supervising the
early morning deliveries of our vegetable crops to the capital city
market. A natural leader, he had been wasted driving a lorry and was
typical of so many talented and under-used freemen. I liked to think that
in a way I had helped him reach a lot more of his potential, even if it
had involved him losing his freedom and his continuing being a slave.

  There are things a Master can do and does for the simple act of
enjoying them. When the Fates have smiled as much as they have in my
life, there are many things I can do and enjoy doing. One such thing is
being able to surprise those around me either friend or slave--for my
friends for the joy that it will bring me as they share part of my life;
for my slaves as they depend ultimately on me for everything.

  On this occasion, it was the slaves who were in for a surprise and one
that delighted them in its simplicity.

  Todd Allen chose a Mercedes-Benz Vario coach which could seat thirty
passengers. I ordered its clear glass windows taken out and smoked glass
put in at the dealership. In this way, the passengers could look out, but
no one could look in. If my passengers were to be naked, or mainly naked
slaves, it would be better that they not be seen by those passing by, or
when overtaken on the roads.

  In a manner, it was my way also of saying `thank you' to Rolf Hanzer
for having devised the keep-fit programme the end result of which would
be to give me even healthier and more fit slaves for my service. It was
my way also to give him something, with which to reward the slaves who
had improved most in their training each week, even though as a Master I
was under absolutely no obligation to do so.

  However, it also gave him the opportunity to reward those who had the
highest points in the overall tests without ever needing to come near him
for a keep-fit session.

  When Rolf presented his first `team' of keep-fit slaves I was quite
amazed at how very ordinary slaves, with good natural physiques, had
improved physically and put on clear body definition.

  A number had quite well developed, but not overly muscled arms, just as
I like them. Others had started to develop abdominal six packs and I even
thought, though it might well be just my imagination, those who were so
trained, actually had cocks which seemed to be semi-tumescent more of the
time.

  I mentioned this last opinion to Rolf and he smiled and said, `Yes,
Boss. It is true. Better fitness. Slight weight loss, because none of our
slaves is overly showing fat, but the extra exercise does increase the
number of erections due to their general fitness, which I am glad you
have noticed.

  `Now, Rolf, I have a surprise for you as a `thank you' for this
great programme you have devised.'

  Rolf blushed as only he can, but he stuck out his chest in pride and
his nice pointed nipples took a salute. I think he manages to do this by
somehow clenching his arms behind his back.

  `Surprise, Boss?'

  `Yes, I've bought you a coach. A bus.'

  `What am I to do with a coach, Boss?' Rolf asked.

  I motioned to Todd Allen, who had come up to us and was standing by.

  `Todd, you are going to train a team of drivers, Dmitri, Sasha and
Jess and a couple of others to drive the coach. There won't be much
training to do on it, as these future drivers I have mentioned were
either coach or lorry drivers before Dahra. When they are all trained to
your satisfaction, then Rolf will be able to choose from the overall best
performing and most improved slaves and send up to twenty or so a day, to
a beach property I have purchased off the South Road.'

  Rolf looked at me and then at Todd.

  `Boss, what are they going to do at the beach?' Rolf finally asked.

  A brief thought flashed through my mind that Rolf now thought that my
slaves were too institutionalised to suffer any change to their regime. I
put it out of my mind.

  `Swim, relax, have a picnic, sandboard, walk, whatever they want to do
for a day. It will be a day off. It will be their reward for keeping fit,
or for doing an exceptional job, or for whatever reason you, their
Overseer and Supervisor, may decide upon. I don't want favourites
getting favours, but slaves who have done a good job somewhere up along
the line. Let's keep this under wraps until we have the drivers and
coach bus fixed to specifications and I'll need to visit a couple of
places in the capital city to get supplies. This beach property is a mile
away from the nearest house, secluded and private. Any of my slaves there
will be unobserved, except by the Supervisor with them. It will be a case
of changing the slaves' GPS setting for that day.'

  The two slaves now had wide grins on their faces.

  `Rolf, Todd, this is not free time for slaves. Neither you nor they
have free time. This will be an appropriate reward for a corresponding
effort.'

  It is quite amazing how slaves or people for that matter can fit into a
pattern. There is no weekend at my Palaces for the slaves. Each day is
like the next with a good balance of six hours' work, four hours'
studying different things, an hour and a half for eating three meals,
half an hour for sex, four hours for personal training and sport and
eight hours' rest at night. Twenty four hours each day, every day the
same. I found the secret to be in not packing each period with too much
to, do or to be learned, or retained. When time was made, Dahra received
it in abundance and I was availing of that abundance on my own doorstep.

  It took the dealership a week to finish the darkened windows
modification to the Mercedes-Benz by which time, I had visited several
outlets in the capital city with Rolf to purchase the equipment and gear
for common use my slaves would need.

  The bus, when it did arrive, was housed in one of the larger
outbuildings of the Aloe Palace, as a result of which it was not really
seen by the Palace slaves, though a whisper had got out that the Master
was up to something special that which he had never done before.

  At that point the rumour-mill really came off the tracks and what the
Master had never done before was to sell off slaves -- some slaves have a
disaster mentality that would keep Hollywood in stories for a century -
and the alleged sales were linked to Rolf Hanzer's new training scheme.
The rumour also quickly had it that the extra training had only been put
in place to get the surplus Palace and farm slaves in tip-top condition
for sale by auction.

  This was compounded by the fact that Pete Downings announced to the
assembled slaves during their breakfast on what turned out to be a
Thursday, the regular day for auctions at both al-Qatim and al-Mera that
the following twenty slaves he listed off were to remain in the
courtyard.

  I had not got wind of the latest rumour and you could have heard a pin
drop in the courtyard at that announcement. I remember being puzzled at
several slaves hugging those who remained behind.

  Normally, slaves out of training wear their gold necklace at meals, so
when Pete told them to go into their quarters and leave the necklaces,
this copper-fastened in their mind that they had been trained only to be
sold at auction.

  I was due to go to the Bank that day and the Rolls was already waiting
with Faisal standing by the rear door, but I decided it being the first
day of this new project that I should have a word with the slaves before
I left.

  I was quite surprised as I approached the first of two ranks of ten
slaves to see one of the slaves with tears streaming down his face. As is
my custom when inspecting my slaves, I always have a word with each. On
this occasion, they were unusually reserved as I felt their biceps and
comments on their abs and their specific body features. The third slave
had composed himself somewhat by the time I had got to him.

  `What is wrong?' I said half in annoyance.

  `Master, please don't sell me. Please don't sell us. We'll work
harder. We will....'

  I looked at him not understanding. I looked at Pete Downings just back
from me.

  `Sell you? Why should I sell you?'

  At that moment, the new Mercedes coach bus, having come down from the
Aloe Palace, drove into the courtyard with Todd Allen at the wheel and
pulled up in front of the serried ranks of slaves.

  The slave blurted out, `Master, everybody says you have had us trained
and exercised better to get a better price for us at the al-Mera slave
market today.'

  I was already late for going to work at the Bank.

  `We will speak again when both you all and I are back here this
evening at the Lemon Palace,' was all I could say.

  This seemed to confuse the slave only more. It was only when I was
driving to the Bank that I placed the slave. I recognised him as one of
Jerzy's raiders as I termed them, but could not quite remember his name.
He was the leader of the raiders who had killed Marek during the
ill-fated attack on the Lime Palace.

  We were slightly delayed on the return from the Bank that day as a
lorry had overturned at one of the roundabouts out of the capital city.
Faisal, my driver who rarely if ever speeds, did make good the time lost.
Well almost.

  I was surprised therefore when pulling round the Lemon Palace and into
the courtyard to see almost three hundred slaves lined up as if for
morning inspection. When numbers were smaller, I had done this inspection
myself, then jointly with Aziz al-Aziz, now it was usually done by the
Overseers.

  Pete Downings, my Head of Household, hurried out to the Rolls and had
the door open even before we were fully stopped. Komil Rostov, the Head
of Stables at the Lemon Palace came striding up with his long
characteristic gait.

  As soon as my foot hit the courtyard pavement, the entire slave body
present went to `at display'.

  I looked at Komil and Pete.

  `Boss, the coach came back half-an-hour ago from the beach and the
word has spread like wildfire. The entire place wants to say `thank
you'.'

  `So what you're saying, Pete, is that the trip to the beach was a
success.'

  `You can say that again, Boss. I have heard at least three versions
already and apparently the only thing missing on the beach today was the
Folies Bergère.'

  `I think, Komil, that you now have some re-focussed slaves...'

  `Master?'

  `..slaves who really want to do their jobs well and get some reward. I
think I had better inspect these guys.'

  `Yes, Boss, or we'll have a riot,' Pete said. `Boss, I've heard
you even got bathing slips for wearing on the beach.'

  `Well, not so much, Pete, for going to the beach, but if they were to
have a football match, I thought the only way to know an opponent on the
other team would be to have blue or red uni-size bathing slips. They are
really not much more than thongs.'

  `And sandboards, Boss?'

  `Sandboards, beach balls, beach volley ball. I want the day out at the
beach, Pete, to be a prize that every slave can aim at and a prize that
Rolf, as Overseer, can award for work well done. Now let's review these
lines at display.'

  It took me all of an hour to get round the slaves who, if the truth be
told, were in superb condition, freshly showered and groomed, their gold
necklace around the neck of each, except for the back line.

  Mine was a reassuring touch here, the feeling of a well formed biceps
there, the balancing in the palm of my hand of a pair of fine balls, the
gentle stroke of an erecting cock. In the brief time there was, I tried
to show the slaves my position as that of their Master, with their
welfare in mind.

  When I had finished, Komil roared `dismiss', as if this were a parade
ground back in Kazakhstan and all adjourned, except for the group of
thirty which had gone to the beach that day remained.

  The group came up and in turn kissed my hand, and as each did so, each
placed a pebble at my feet, I looked at Komil and Pete for an
explanation. When the last had made his obeisance, there was a small pile
of pebbles at my feet. Each slave had the pebble in his hand at the back
of his neck when `at display. The last slave gave the missing
explanation.

  `These pebbles, Master, are the first pebbles for a new garden.'

  I thought it was a very nice thought that part of the beach would find
its way to the grounds of the Lemon Palace and those who had nothing
material to give me had found an answer in nature herself.

  Two of the slaves there had been given to me as gifts, by my
neighbours, when I had first made arrangement with them for the water
supplies. Even after all this time, I still did not know the slaves'
names.

  `What did you like most today?' I asked.

  `The trip on the bus, Master,

  ...swimming in the sea

  ...riding in the bus

  ...just walking on the beach

  ...being able to put on the bathing suits for the football match.'

  Each had a different idea of what was best.

  The last slave was going to say something else, but I interrupted him.

  `Why the bathing suits?'

  `We were parts of teams, Master. I had a red bathing suit. I scored a
goal.'

  I reached out and rubbed the slave's neck and head. The strangest
things can make slaves happy. Perhaps, the clothes signified the
normality of some form of temporary freedom on the beach.

  I looked at the pebbles at my feet.

  `A new garden, eh, Komil?'

  `Whatever the Master orders.'

  It was out of this moment that the five acres of Lemon Palace rock
gardens were born. When the depression we had been levelling and finally
filling with the rocks being unearthed as the slaves worked the land, the
rocks being further unearthed every day were then used as foundations for
the new rock gardens.

  While on the one hand, I was pleased that the slaves had something more
than the threat of punishment to really improve performance, I could not
deny a certain feeling of dark foreboding here. If this reward implied a
temporary pseudo-freedom, even that of having some slaves each week out
on their own with a coach, there was also the security factor. I just
hoped that I was not making a huge mistake. Only time would tell.

End of Chapter 17

To be continued ...

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