Date: Mon, 04 Aug 2003 18:41:14 +0100
From: Gerry Taylor <gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Changed Life - Chapter 15 - Gay - Authoritarian


This is the 15th chapter of Part One of a trilogy of
novels of gay sex.

Keywords:
authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training,
and submission

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:
eMail: gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com
Web: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories

The Changed Life by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 15 -- Quick changes

I moved to my new home the Aloe Palace within a week
determined to put my stamp on it. I had two modern
windmills installed one at the deep well so as to pump
all the water needed for the Palace and the grounds.
Although there was a natural flow to the water, it did
appear that the water extracted, no matter how much, was
replaced rather quickly. I had an engineer come to
install both and to calculate the rate and flow of water
to tell me how much irrigation the flow would cover in
this climate.

I was surprised to learn the a simple small -- to my mind
-- flow of water twenty four hours a day would suffice
for almost twenty acres. The second windmill at the far
corner of the grounds of the Palace was to boost the
electric current in the storage cells in the outhouse.

I also had solar panels installed on the roofs of all
buildings other than the Palace itself to boost the
supply of electricity and I was planning to create a
reservoir so as to be able to irrigate all the fields.
In this part of the world, water is simply the most
important of natural assets, well maybe, after the
world's fourth largest reserves of oil and the fifth
largest reserves in gas.

It gave me a great deal of personal pleasure to
rearrange matters to my own taste in both the Palace
itself and in the slave quarters, where I made some
adjustments which later would come in handy for ensuring
the obedience and servitude of the slaves. While I am
not a sadist, I do believe that it is best to stop a
matter quickly, if severely, and nip it in the bud
before it got out of control.

I put Yuriy, Jiri and Ross at the disposal of Aziz to
get the Palace in order. Ross was shocked when he
finally realised that he had not been `rescued' by me,
but that he had actually been bought and was now my
slave, would wear the slave ankle bracelet and was there
to please me whenever I needed his services of any
nature. I explained matters as best I could to him, and
said that he would be frequently in my bed.

Tariq al-Akhri dropped by one evening to see how I was
getting on and I walked him round the Palace.

He laughed and said `Jonathon, it is very very empty. I
remember staying here with my father as a child, and
then it was very packed and humming with activity. How
on earth are you getting things done with only the
overseer and three slaves?'

I said that I would have the other six properly trained
from his Palace within some weeks.

He said `Let me help. I shall send over a couple to help
you until yours are ready.'

`Well, if you insist, but if you are going to send some
over then include Food and Drink.'

He looked at me not understanding, and I realised that I
had called the two body slaves by my own nicknames for
them. I explained and he roared laughing.

`That,' I said, `reminds me of something I have for you'
and I brought him back into the Palace and presented him
with the golden fly swish as a token of my appreciation
for his thoughtfulness. I said that I had deliberately
chosen the simplest and plainest of patterns in the gold
because it looked most beautiful that way. He was very
pleased with the present.

He asked what I was doing Thursday week and I could not
think of anything being on that day. He said `Come with
me as my guest to the birthday party of our eldest
brother Rashid who will be fifty.' I agreed.

Food and Drink and two others arrived the following
morning by Transit van. They looked frightened on coming
out of it and I suppose that they had never really been
outside Tariq's Palace and grounds. On seeing me, they
both gave a yelp of glee and hurdled over and made
obeisance so quickly their heads barely touched the
ground before they were kissing my feet.

The other two had their heads firmly on the ground until
Aziz got them to move. He seemed pleased to have the
extra staff for the amount of things which had to be
done, and he swished his new black onyx fly swish with
the importance of his authority.

The days went by and every day brought a new delight. I
had the Bank's driver installed in one of the servants
rooms. He was not a slave, but an actual employee of the
Bank, but a small payment convinced him to up camp from
the capital and re-locate to two rooms where everything
was free.

In this way, I would rise at 5.30 in the morning, after
a pleasurable night with Yuriy who was mastering his
squatting technique to perfection, and be in the
limousine on the way to the Bank by 6.00, so as to be
there at its office opening at 7.00. At that hour in the
morning, there was normally little or no traffic, except
in the last few minutes of our daily journey. One of the
great advantages of that early morning journey was that
it gave me time to do my homework. With 15 branches of
the Bank around the world and various departments in
London, there were at least 20 monthly reports to be
digested. I tried to digest at least one a day and
usually managed to do so.

One thing I did in those days was to transfer half a
million euro into Gustav Ahlsom's account so that he
would not be short should any further Swede come on the
market. He seem genuinely shocked at my generosity and
said that he would inform the Embassy. I told him to do
no such thing that it was a personal thing out of respect
for what he was doing, not a political thing.

I also took the New Concorde from Bahrain to London for
our monthly July meeting on the 16th. The board looked
very pleased with the inflow of deposits into the Dahran
branch and it gave me a chance to do some housekeeping
and an hour's shopping in London. But it was literally a
30 hour visit and no more.

The driver was waiting for me at the airport as I got
off the interconnecting LearJet from Bahrain, and that
night I spent it in and up Ross, but did not come until
I had him shoot twice, with a shout and a whimper, and
only then did I take him a little more roughly than
usual. Ross was developing an all over tan which made
him look very very beautiful.

Rashid's birthday party had to be seen to be believed.
Whether he wanted to impress, or whether being fifty was
the big thing, I do not know but all his wives and children
were there, all his brothers and their wives and their
children. There must have been over three hundred of the
wider al-Akhri family at it. I was the only European
that I could see.

There were presents everywhere, almost like a children's
party. Everyone had something large or small for their
father or uncle, or in-law, but generally they were
small presents capable of being presented by hand.

Tariq had told me, when I had enquired of him what
to bring that Rashid liked silk and any item of clothes
in silk would be more than acceptable. I felt a
little embarrassed by my gifts because they had to be
carried in like two big long logs. The children
thought it very funny and even behind the veils of
the wives, I could see the odd smile.

As Rashid had made a big fuss over each of the presents,
opening them and giving his children and nephews big
kisses, he could hardly fail to open mine which were a
bolt of pure cream coloured silk with every fiftieth
thread in actual gold -- 50th birthday and all that,
and a bolt of a new type of mohair which had silk
woven into the fabric. The first bolt, when a
few yards were unrolled, glimmered in the illumination
of a thousand lights and the second looked burnished
grey and was the softest and lightest of fabrics.

Rashid's gimlet eyes gleamed in pleasure. I explained to
him that rather than me giving him a garment which he
might not really appreciate, he could have his tailors
do what he wanted with the bold of silk and mohair. He
actually clapped his hands in pleasure, and some of his
wives came forward to finger the cream silk and he
whooshed them away before they laid claim to it.

The presents of the brothers were different. Each gave a
top of the range car and we had to go out and look at
the gleaming superb models - each hand made, hand tooled
and individually monogrammed. Even I was shocked at the

lavishness of the gifts, none of which could have been
less than a million dollars.

The evening was itself cool and with the sheer number of
children and wives inside, I welcomed the breath of
fresh air. Abdou al-Akhri, the youngest brother, from
whom I had purchased the Aloe Palace, came up to me and
we started chatting. He, too, I think was feeling the
noise of the children and the hullabaloo inside so we
began to walk around the Palace. Abdou was talking about
his work in Geneva, which he loved as a city and as a
cross-roads from where he could be anywhere by air in
Europe in three hours. I discovered that he had a small
LearJet.

As we talked and walked from one courtyard to the next,
I think we were almost fully round the Palace at this
time, I first spotted the figure of a naked slave
sitting on the ground pouring water from one jug to the
next. It was only when we were in the courtyard that it
became apparent that he was sitting in front of another
slave who was strung up under an archway, his feet
barely touching the ground.

The slave was almost unconscious and, although deeply
Tanned, was Caucasian. He was also severely burned by the
sun and as we drew close, myself more in morbid fascination
than anything else. Abdou was at my side.

The face and lips of the slave was a mask of cuts where
the skin had split, the blood had oozed out, and over
his upper body there was that light sprinkling of dusty
sand which comes when the skin has dried and too much
salt has been lost.

Abdou barked something. The slave seated on the ground
became aware of our presence and putting down the two
jugs made obeisance to us. He answered Abdou's bark with
something about the other slave not obeying the Master

and even daring to spit at the Master.

Abdou again said something which I did not hear, my mind
being in a tizzy at such senseless cruelty, and the
slave on the ground still in half obeisance said the
slave being punished was useless as he had never wished
to work, and what caught my ear, was that the slave was
English.

I was going to go and give the hanging slave some water,
but Abdou said that it would be best not to interfere
and that giving him water even at this time might just
prolong the agony a day further, that this was a
punishment to the death for grave insult to the Master
and that if the slave died quickly the following day it
would be more merciful.

Needless to say the fun of the birthday party had
evaporated for me. Abdou and I walked in to the Palace
and almost collided with Rashid who was surrounded by a
number of the children. With a piano-like fingering of
the air, he made them run off, and turned and thanked
Abdou once again for his present, which I think was some
type of Rolls Royce, and he thanked me for my gifts
which he truly enjoyed and said he was in my debt.

I decided that I could no longer stay in that Palace and
apologised saying that I had to return home, as I had a
number of things to do the following day and calls to
make to various parts of Europe. A thought was
germinating in my mind, and I said `It is also a problem
having a new house and so few slaves trying to get so
many things done so quickly.'

Rashid quickly offered to help where he could, but I
said no thank you, that I would get by somehow. I then
pretended that I was having second thoughts, and said
`What I really need are one or two slaves to do the most
menial farm work. I saw one being punished just now in
one of the courtyards. He must have no value to you. I
should buy him from you and have him clean out my
stables. What would you say to that?

Rashid saw that he had walked himself into a corner.

`He is yours, Master Jonathan, with my pleasure.'

`For the price you paid for his purchase.'

Rashid was going to saying something, but smiled and
said `For the price I paid for him.'

`And if you have another useless slave, I will buy him
as well. But now I really must go, or I will never get
tomorrow's work done' and I bowed to Rashid, and said
`Again, happy birthday'.

Abdou was at my side and had said nothing in the past
few exchanges. When Rashid had gone inside, he finally
said `I am very glad you did that. The slave would not
have lasted another day. I have seen this before. My
brother follows some of the old tribal rules too
closely. I will not condemn him because he is my
brother, but sometimes his actions do bother me.'

Rashid's head of household came rushing out, apologetic
that I was leaving and that the Master had said the sale
of a worthless slave had been agreed.

I said `Yes' but with Abdou at my side and my annoyance
at the whole issue was bubbling in my veins, `In fact,
the Master has sold me his two most worthless slaves, to
work cleaning out my stables.'

Abdou taking up my cue, said, `Yes, the one being
punished in the courtyard and do you have another you
want to get rid of.'

The head of household immediately said, `Of course,
Master Abdou, I personally would like to get rid of one
or two lazy slaves, but perhaps, it is not night for the
Master here to be burdened with this Palace's worst.
What will he think of me? What will he think of the
Master?'

The courtyard, where the suspended slave was, was in
fact the courtyard in which the main body of slaves were
housed. It was around 9 o'clock in the evening now, and
we entered the slaves pens, which were a series of
stables and cages inside the doors under the arches.

`Who is your worst slave here and I shall have him to
clean my stables?

The head of household had switched on the main lights
and the slaves were sitting up, woken up from the
darkness of their confinement, wondering what was going

on. He quickly walked over to a pen and said `This one
is useless for anything else but cleaning out stables.'

`He will do. Take him out. I have to be off to my
Palace.'

`Now, Master?

`Now.'

The head of household unhooked the pitiful and filthy
creature who was hooked by a light chain to a wall. He
was painfully thin, naked, with various lashes on his
shoulders and back, and looked Middle Eastern.

`He is a useless Kurd, Master,' the head of household
leading him out.

My driver had by this time brought the limousine around.
I took a rug from the trunk, and told the Kurd to get
into the trunk. It took a push and a shove from the head
of household to get him in. Perhaps, he was not too
intelligent. Perhaps, he did not understand Arabic.

I put the rug in the middle of the floor in the back of
the limousine and had the driver and the slave who had
been sitting on the ground with the water, to get the
suspended slave down and laid out on the rug in the back
of the limousine.

I told the head of the household to get me four litres
of water which came quickly in large Perrier bottles. I
also told him to have the papers on both slaves with me
the following day.

I thanked Abdou for his company. He just nodded and I
had the driver get me out of there as fast as possible.

I spent the return journey pouring tumblers of water
down the slave's throat. It was like pouring water into
sand. It simply disappeared and more was instantly
needed. I was afraid that too much water would be just
as bad and so eased off when I had given about two
litres of it to the half-unconscious slave, whose body
upon closer inspection was an open sore of sunburn and
broken flesh, and whose body odour in the closed
confines of the limousine was ripe, if not revolting.

It was nearing ten o'clock by the time I was back at the
Aloe Palace and everyone was asleep, they thinking that
I was over-nighting as I had told them at Rashid's
Palace. However, as we had gone directly to the slave's
quarters, I had the driver quickly roust Yuriy, Ross and
Jiri, and each of us taking a corner of the blanket,
brought the new slave into their quarters. I had the
driver follow with the other slave who looked totally
mesmerised upon being taken out of the trunk.

It seemed to click with Yuriy what had caused the
problem and pointing to himself and towards the Palace
implied that he needed something from there. I signalled
him to go, and he sprinted across the yard to the
Palace.

I told Jiri to get the other slave under the shower and
thoroughly washed - inside and out - and they both went off
to the showers.

Yuriy had now sprinted back and two large tubs of
margarine or some such spread in his hands, he quickly
undid one and plunged his hand into the spread and
started to put its cool contents all over the body on
the blanket. Ross took the other tub and started to do
likewise.

Within minutes, the slave was covered in a yellow salve
from the scalp of his head to the soles of his feet.
Yuriy went to the limousine and took the remaining
bottle of Perrier and started to dribble it between the
broken lips.

Jiri led in a damp figure which was the new slave. He
himself was soaking wet where he had too been under the
shower cleaning up the new arrival. I went into the
store room and got some of the light blankets which are
used in the region, and indicated an area in the pens
where the new slave could sleep. He seemed very young.
He was also very frightened. So I gave him a blanket,
and putting two hands under my jaw indicating sleep,
pushed him to his floor bed of the night. He covered
himself with the blanket almost in an cocoon shape and
two minutes later, when I looked, he was fast asleep.

I said to Ross come to the Palace for the night.
He dropped his eyes and said, `Boss, can I stay with
Yuriy tonight and help him look after this poor
creature. I think he is almost dead.'

I was going to rebuke him for his lack of obedience, but
though to myself that after that evening I was in no
mood for arguing or, indeed, for sex, but I handed over
the blankets I had brought in and went into the next pen
and told Food and Drink to follow me. They had been
awakened by the commotion and had been looking out their
door.

I was not an active participant in sex that night and
left it to their inventiveness to give me pleasure which
they did until midnight, and with one on either side of
me, I was spooned for the rest of the night.

To be continued...