Date: Thu, 11 Dec 2003 18:48:48 +0000 From: Gerry Taylor Subject: The Special Memories - Chapter 14 - Gay - Authoritarian This is the fourteenth 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 your 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 The Special Memories by Gerry Taylor Chapter 14 -- The ice-cream maker It was the first day of the new Faisal's arrival as my driver and it had gotten progressively hotter and hotter. If this was June, I could but imagine what July and August would be like that year. The menu for the dinner that evening was just right after the heat and humidity of the day. As Yves Fournier, in particular, and the two other medical staff were joining me, the meal had a French flavour about it - an avocat vinaigrette with a balsamic vinegar base to start, a delightful lime sorbet, so light it melted before it had passed over the full tongue, a main course of ris de veau aux salsifis -- small veal sweetbreads with salsify, which Yves elaborated was `the neglected and forgotten vegetable in every kitchen-garden' -- and we ended up with a plain undecorated ice-cream with a taste I could not quite place. As the medical people were arguing over the merits of a sweet Sauterne as a dessert wine, which we were having with the ice-cream, I slipped into the kitchen, as Bob and Marek were preparing the table for after dinner coffee. Normally, I do not interrupt Flavio in the kitchens when he is in full flow, but I thought that with the dinner just over, it would be almost `safe' to go in. It was. His forehead was up against Marko's forehead, an arm over Marko's and they were having some private joke. I think they thought the opening door was admitting either Bob or Marek. I coughed and Flavio looked up surprised. `Boss, is everything alright?' Marko as usual whenever I saw him, or rather whenever he saw me looking at him, looked both serious and worried at the same time. `Yes indeed, Flavio. Delicious meal! That's just it. Too delicious. What I cannot figure is the ice-cream. It had a taste which I cannot just place.' We both looked at Marko at the same time. It was his job as far as I knew to make the dessert each evening. There were the making of a nervous smile in his eyes. `It's Marko's secret, Boss. He has about a half-a-dozen desserts now that are all his. This one is vanilla ice-cream, that I know, but what else, I don't.' I went over to the shy Albanian slave and put my arms around his neck. `Am I going to have to tickle you to find out?' -- Marko being terribly ticklish. He shook his head from side to side. `Marko!. You speak to the Master,' Flavio said half annoyed. `You do not make signs.' I held up a hand. After his experience at the hands of the Balkan warlords, Marko had not spoken for a long time. Even when I bought him for the Aloe Palace, it had taken him an age to say anything, though he understood now everything that was said to him in both Arabic and English. He wet his lips and said -- as it was evening - in perfect Arabic, `No, Master, you do not have to tickle me.' `If it is your secret, you do not have to tell me if you do not want to.' `It is only ice-cream, Master, with a single small spoon of honey and the juice of one fig. Nothing more.' He looked over at Flavio and, in the look, there was some unspoken conversation that both had obviously had in the past and which, in that single look, had passed between them again now. Flavio nodded to him twice. Marko's arms were beside his sides and he put them round me and hugged me tightly. `Master, I love you. I really do. I want you to love me.' I looked at Flavio, not quite sure of what was going on. `Boss, Marko thinks you don't love him, that you only bought him for me.' `Marko, why would you ever think that I did not love you? Of course, I do. You are one of my most favourite slaves.' The hug was getting tighter and Marko was murmuring something I could not make out. Flavio had to interpret for me again. `You have never taken him to your bed like the other slaves, Boss, and that's why he thinks you don't love him.' I raised Marko's chin so that I could see his face. He was crying. `Marko, I have never taken you to my bed because I know Flavio loves you so very much, for the both of us, for him and for me. Tonight you will come to bed with me and tell me about yourself - before the Aloe Palace and now at the Lime Palace. You are my slave. You are my friend. I love you. Okay? Now I have to go back to my guests.' Marko went back to his sign language of head nodding. That night Marko told me of the horrors of war and skirmishes and raids, the torching and bombing of villages and the senseless killing of everyone he had ever loved or known. He had given up trying to understand his emotions, or put his thoughts into words, and had retreated into his own internal silent world and more so, when he had become the plaything of one and then of a second local Balkans warlord. He mentioned the village where he was from, but I never found it on any map of the Balkans. I think the name was a local version of a more official name. Sometime later, we found out that the words he spoke in his own language were a mixture of Macedonian, Kosovan and Albanian. So, it was anyone's guess which side of which border he had lived on. In bed, Marko was extraordinarily warm. It was, as if he had his own internal combustion engine. In his months at the Palace, he had put on weight. His ribs no longer stuck out and his muscle tone was improving. When he snuggled up to me, it was to hold me tightly, as if I were going to disappear all of a sudden and when I kissed him, he closed his eyes and sighed and squeezed even more tightly. It was not energetic sex we were having, far from it, merely a full body-to-body contact, as I ran my hands and fingers up and down his. He was basking in the attention and affection of a Master -- always in a passive role, never taking the lead or attempting to do anything first. I was therefore a little surprised when, at a moment when I was lying on the flat of my back in the bed, Marko slid on top of me, lying warmly down along the length of my body. He seemed to have something in mind, so I left him to it. My penis was hard as it tends to get when in constant body contact and I felt Marko take it in his hand very gently, move himself a little up my body and then backwards, slipping it into himself. As Marko's back passage is very extended capable of taking the redoubtable Flavio's girth and length and having been extensively used for years by his previous warlord masters, I thought that he was making a mistake in thinking that I in any way could fill him in such a manner as to cause him any sort of frictional pleasure. Then I felt what for him must have been a substantial working and tensing of his sphincter muscle as he started to clench and relax on my inserted cock. `Are you becoming a top all of a sudden, Marko?' He looked at me a little in alarm as he was want to do when any question, however harmless, was asked of him. His tensing stopped momentarily. `You don't like what I am doing, Master?' `I love what you are doing, Marko, I just think that I am not going to be able to give you any pleasure back there.' `It is for me to give you pleasure, Master, not the other way round.' `And if I wanted to give you pleasure, Marko, what should I do?' `Me, Master? `You.' He seemed both perplexed and puzzled, but finally said, `I would like if the Master kissed me' and when he said it, he was as usual looking somewhere in the general direction of my neck and throat. I lifted his chin and his velvet black eyes revealed nothing of his internal emotions. `Every time I feel you down there pleasing me, Marko, I shall kiss you.' His mouthed dimpled in a smile and I felt a squeeze on my securely inserted cock. I kissed his neck to the left of his throat, softly, but firmly. He squeezed again. I kissed his chin and then his lips. His anal passage took on a life of its own with its muscles applying the most delicious firm clenching and relaxing motions. I kissed all of Marko's face and upper body and as far around his neck as I could. When I started kissing his ears, his hands, which were around my shoulders started to tremble so hard that they were jumping on my skin and he grasped me hard under my armpits. `A sensitive spot your ears, Marko, eh?' and I stuck my tongue right into his left ear, which caused him almost to jump right off me. I was running my hands up and down his back, when he cried out, `Master, oh Master, I can't stop' and I felt the warmth of his ejaculation on my belly. Marko appeared to get very upset and again would not look me in the eye. `What's the matter, Marko?' `Master, I have given you no pleasure and now I have come.' `It pleases me to have pleasured you with a mere tongue in your ear. Now are you ready to be really pleasured.' His eyes were wide open in shock and the tensing of his anus had stopped. I flipped him off me and going down on his small penis, now flaccid after its ejaculation, I took it in my mouth and proceeded to bring it to hardness with five or six sucks. I slipped two fingers into Marko's anus, which accepted them easily, creating a gentle fingering motion. When his cock had grown to its full four-inch hardness, I took both his small balls into my mouth and sucked them until he was squirming in pleasure and then let my tongue lave them until totally moist, responding to every touch and passing pressure of my tongue. I noticed that Marko was making little noises of pleasure and I went back to his penis and took it again firmly in my mouth, sliding my hands up to his small brown nipples, the centre nubs were only what stood proud from his chest. I nipped and squeezed them and I felt Marko's legs wrap around me, as a second climax approached. For all his sexual experience on the receiving end, he had little or no experience at holding back on being pleasured himself and his second climax a mere fifteen or so minutes after his first one, was as copious and plentiful as any first coming in a morning. He tasted sweet and sort of spicy in a nutmeg way. 'Do you think now, Marko, that I do not love you?' 'Master, I know now that you really love me and I just want to love you and Flavio.' Love for Marko Sqeppa was being wanted, being held, not being abused or taken against his will. It was a very limited form of love, but for him it was an end in itself and it worked. Apart from Abdul, Food and Drink, I really have never known a slave to be so loving and gentle and kind. For Flavio, my chef slave, as he told me himself, Marko was the most caring and considerate of lovers, who just wanted to accommodate Flavio's massive member each night. Of one thing there is no dispute, no one could come close to Marko as an ice-cream maker, whether for myself alone, or for the full body of slaves on those special occasions during the year. End of Chapter 14