Date: Mon, 06 Oct 2003 20:44:54 +0100 From: Gerry Taylor Subject: The Market Offer - Chapter 18 - Gay - Authoritarian This is the eighteenth chapter of part three of a trilogy of novels of gay sex. Keywords: authority, control, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, loyalty 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 will be unlawful for you to read where your live, please leave this webpage now. Contact points: e. gerrytaylor78@hotmail.com w. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Erotic_Gay_Stories The Market Offer by Gerry Taylor Chapter 18 -- Retraining The overseers had come to see me some weeks previously about the running of the new Lime Palace. A minimal staffing would be left at the old Aloe Palace comprising what were essentially the new assistant overseers, and some twenty or so slaves, though many would come down the road each morning from the Lime Palace for duties, which might be based that day at the Aloe Palace. Aziz, in his wisdom of years, was putting new systems in place. The work and progress of each slave would be monitored. Those who excelled or worked hard in any particular area would receive a point a month from an overseer, but not more. Those who failed to meet expectations, would receive a negative mark. Aziz's idea was not so much geared at punishments, but rather at control and the rewarding of effort. Those, who among the one hundred plus slaves whose numbers were increasing by the month, got to ten points would be considered for positions of trust, or as assistants to the overseers, with a view to higher responsibilities in due course. Those who got five negative points would be given a day's retraining with Greg Logan, my retrainer and his assistant, Jess Tollman. I had questioned Aziz on the procedures to be followed and they seemed not only fair and sensible, they were also harsh and were meant to be a harsh shock to anyone failing to respond to the regime of the Lime Palace. Inspection of the slave normally took place in the courtyard between the Palace and slave quarters building, the first two of which were the only ones partially occupied at present. Their total capacity would be for some six hundred slaves. Each of the slaves each morning came out cleanly shaven over all their body except for the pubic line as it was now being called and their pits or axiliar hair, the hair on their heads was cut close, and those who had been fully trained over thirty days wore the gold loop necklace which each had received from me. This was worn at all times except when working or at sport or in bed and was a mark of my pleasure in their slave-person and actions. Although Aziz, the head of my household, would take three inspections each week, I liked taking the other days, commenting on those who looked well exercised and lean, or well muscled and hard-worked. I frequently noticed that many tried to get an erection during the inspection though they would have been jerked off by their buddy not half an hour previously, and I put it down to the fact that often I would toy with a well firmed cock on my rounds, and I believe that everyone likes a touch of approval and commendation, even if it is on their genitals. This was one of Aziz's mornings as head of household to do the inspection and when he had finished, he looked over at Yuriy, Stan and Greg, my overseers with him. They appeared to nod to him, and Aziz called out, `The following slave will step forward for retraining.' There was a deadly silence in the in the courtyard. `Ivan Sorovich.' The name did not mean much to me but when I saw him hesitantly move forward, I realised that it was Bob Conrad's new buddy. Silence gripped the walls around the courtyard. It was the first time anyone had been called out for retraining. Ivan was looking at the ground, his head was bowed in shame and his cheeks and ears were burning red with the humiliation of being singled out. Aziz said, `The slave will take off the necklace of the Lime Palace and give it to me. Only those who are worthy of the necklace can wear it with pride.' When the words sank in to Ivan's mind, he cried out, `No, Master, no,' but Aziz's hand was outstretched and remained so until a tearful Ivan unlooped the necklace and handed it over. `Now, go to be retrained,' Aziz commanded and pointed to the training room beside the slave quarters in the first building. The training room had been transferred across to the new Palace as had many of the other facilities and more modern equipment put in. Ivan literally stumbled across the yard, looking at me, he said for all to hear, `Master, I'm sorry. Master, I'm sorry.' Looking back at Aziz for some form of reprieve, looking at Bob, his buddy, who was in shock, for some sort of support, he dragged his feet across the yard towards my trainer and his assistant waiting for him. When Greg and Jess had followed Ivan into the training quarters and closed the door, I came forward and said, `The life of a slave is not hard here at the Lime Palace. It exists here to please me. To be submissive to what I want and how I want it. To accept my authority. To do what my overseers tell you to do. The tasks you have to do are not hard tasks, but I want them done very well at all times. You are well cared for at all times.' `However, if one slave does not work, someone else has to do his work. He shows disrespect not just to me and the overseers, he disrespects you his fellow slaves, by effectively saying you can do his work.' `Is there any slave here who does not want to be my slave and live and work at the Lime Palace for my pleasure?' No one moved or said a thing. `Any time you wish to leave here and take your chances with another Master, that very week you can go to the auction rooms of al-Qatim or al-Mera and be sold to someone else.' Aziz and Yuriy took over with the assignment of the day's duties. Björn, the first of the twenty five Swedish slaves, who were the property of Gustav Ahlson, twenty of whom would be on continuing rotation from his townhouse, stood waiting there obviously to see me. `Master, we did not realise that the overseers were actually going to order the retraining of the slaves who did not work. Will this be for the Swedes as well?' `Yes. The overseers now have a points system and any slave who gets five negative points will be retrained. In your case and that of the Swedes, you would be returned for five weeks to your Master's town house and your buddy here reassigned to another slave. It would be up to Gustav Ahlson, your Master, to punish you as he saw fit.' I saw that this threat of punishment by depriving them of the open spaces of the Lime Palace and its grounds would be taken seriously by the Swedes, who hated going back every fifth week in rotation to the town house of their Master to look after it for a week. As I finished speaking to Björn, Bob Conrad came up. He looked very upset. `Boss, I am very sorry.' `Bob, Ivan is not your problem. He is your buddy and, I think, your lover by this stage. As they say‑ love is blind -- and I think you have been blind to what Ivan has been doing -- or more accurately not been doing.' `Boss, I am sorry. He is my buddy. Punish me as well. I should have told him if I really loved him. I was excusing him all sorts of things. If I had only said something.' `Bob, go do your job today. Let Ivan take his retraining. If after 30 days, he has not a single point against him, I will think, tell him, I will think about giving him his gold loop necklace back.' `Thanks, Boss, thanks,' and I ran my hand affectionately through the former Canadian jock's short hair as he liked it. He blinked and grinned and went off about his work as assistant property overseer of the Aloe Palace. Greg kept me informed how Ivan's day went from bad to worse as the door banged behind him and Greg and Jess stood on either side of it. `Welcome, Ivan, to the training unit. I don't think that you have been here before,' Greg said. `I think, I would have remembered those shaking legs.' Ivan could not control the shaking in his lower body. He felt cold though the day was heating up. `I'm sorry, Masters. I'm sorry, Masters.' He was trying flattery, the oldest trick in the book, by giving his retrainers a more exalted title than their due. Greg was having none of it. `There is only one Master for you and that is Sir Jonathan Martin. So, do not even try to think of calling the assistant overseer and myself `Masters'. We hear that you like to keep people waiting. You are not very considerate of your fellow slaves and the overseers, are you, Ivan.' `I'm sorry, Sirs. I'm sorry, Sirs.' This time there were tears running down his cheeks. The second oldest trick, evoke sympathy if you can, as you wallow in your own self-pity. `Well today, Ivan, you are going to wait on us. When we have to do something, we will wait another ten minutes, won't we, Jess.' `Sir, think fifteen minutes would be better to have the slave wait.' `Very good, Jess. Fifteen minutes' wait, it will be then each time, Ivan, when we have to do something.' Ivan did not know what they were talking about, but he was afraid - not of what was known to him, but of what was unknown to him in the retraining room. `I trust that you have pissed and shit and had your douche today.' `Yes, sirs, yes. Pissed, shit and douched by my buddy.' `Good, Ivan, because what we have to do at time can be a bit messy is you have not shit.' Ivan's knees came together as he tried in his mind to protect his privates. `Get up on the table, Ivan, and let us get started.' The leather table was neither long nor wide, but for all the world like a press up bench which an athlete would use for weightlifting. But it was at the regular height of an ordinary table, covered in black leather. Its legs showed various rings attached through which anything like a rope or restraint could be passed. It was a psychological victory of the retrainers that Ivan got up on the table by himself. Males become and are always made more submissive when obliged to do things themselves, as opposed to being physically forced by others. Jess laid him along it on his back, but the table was too short to take a full body, so Ivan's head was over one end and his legs over the other. Jess slipped a length of Velcro through each of the rings on the legs under Ivan's shoulders and wrapped each of these around a wrist. Before Jess did similarly to his legs, he hoisted them up in the air, so that Ivan' hole was fully displayed, shaven and clenched tight. Greg coming up to the exposed butt and hole with a type of butt plug in his hand which he was lubricating as he came over, positioned it and with one quick trust pushed the four inch butt plug into the clench tightness. `I'm sorry, Sirs. I'm sorry, Sirs,' was Ivan's continuing mantra. Jess now velcroed both of Ivan's legs to the other two legs of the table, while Greg wheeled over a large hospital drip from which was hanging an upside down demi-john one third full of a coloured liquid. `Shall we tell him what's here, Jess?' Greg said tapping the demi-john. `Oh, I don't know, sir. I think a little surprise is good now and then. However, if you want to tell him just one or two of the things that are in there, I am sure that he will appreciate it.' `You know what it is like, Ivan, when you just have to take a shit.' Ivan was half hoisting up his head from the far end of the table to be able to see and speak. `Yes, sir.' `And you know how painful it is to have to wait.' `Yes, sir.' `Well, Ivan, most of what is in this jar are purgatives grown right down the road on the farm of the Aloe Palace. We have a little castor oil from the castor oil plant which works wonders but can make you cramp. We have a touch of ipecacuanha to loosen the bowels Some liquorice, which you can even eat and is a great expeller of human waste, two crushed senna pods for the same, and some dill water. But most of all we just have plain water and soap in it which will clean you out.' `I'm sorry, sirs. I'm sorry, sirs,' Ivan repeated yet again, and there were tears coming down his face `Do you know, Ivan, how much shit you can hold, even when you have diarrhoea? Let me tell you. About two pints. Here, Ivan, we have about seven or so pints, for which I have kept you waiting too long,' and which that Greg clipped the tubing of the demi-john into the butt plug and released the flow. Ivan gave a little groan as he felt the first flush of liquid enter his rectum. `Now, Ivan, we just have to wait, but while we wait, you are going to show each of us how you have improved on your techniques of loving your buddy. What is your best technique, Ivan?' `I'm sorry, sirs. I'm sorry, sirs.' `Ivan, stop saying that. What is your best technique? Or are you saying you don't even know what your buddy likes? `My buddy, Bob, likes to be sucked, sir.' `Do you keep him waiting to be sucked, Ivan, like you are keeping Jess waiting here? Show Jess how you can suck?' With his head hanging backwards over the edge of the table, Ivan's mouth was in perfect position to receive Jess' cock in his mouth. The only difficulty was the Jess was normally just short of nine inches, not very thick but it did have a beautiful knob which a dragon type flange which when engorged made the head of the penis look twice as large. Ivan could only open his mouth and let Jess slip the top of his cock in. Already he could feel the pressure of liquids building up inside him, but Jess was letting himself into Ivan's mouth inch by inch. When he was in about five inches, Ivan started to gag, so Jess pulled back an inch and allowed Ivan' tongue and lips to work. `Sir, the slave gags very quickly, about five and a half inches, I would say,' Jess said. `Well, we have all day to teach him how not to keep a long cock waiting,' Greg replied, judging the flow of the demi-john liquid which was slowing down a little its descent, so using the rubber hand pump on the tubing, he pumped once. Ivan groaned and Greg started to massage the groin and lower stomach area to ensure a passage through the bowels as quickly as possible. Jess, at his end, was now deep throating Ivan but entering and withdrawing very quickly almost before the gag reflex could realise the intrusion. Sometimes, he was not quick enough or Ivan's throat had not time to recover quickly enough, and Ivan would start to splutter. After some minutes, Greg also had an erection of about six inches. He was nowhere as long as his well-trained subordinate, but what he lacked in length he made up for in hardness. When hard, his cock could have sticks of sugar or barley candy broken on it, as had happened once in a competition with his former commando buddies in the navy. Also he was a lot thicker than Jess' diameter. Greg judged Ivan to have taken about two pints of the liquid flowing down the drip, so he came around the table and indicated to Jess to move aside. Ivan's mouth was waiting for his cock, but was not waiting for his fingers, which went to the slave's unprotected nipples, and when his cock was fully in Ivan's mouth, he squeezed and twisted both pert and proud nipples as hard as he could. Had Greg's thick cock not been filling Ivan's mouth completely, his scream would have filled the room. As it was it came out as a strangled cry, but the most surprising effect was that the sudden pain in Ivan's nipples can taken his mind unconsciously off keeping his bowel and stomach muscles clenched tight, because the demi-john gave a big gurgle and at least half a pint of water came down the drip into relaxed bowels. Although Greg had come in Jess' mouth just an hour previously when being given his morning jerk off in the showers, Ivan's reaction was too much for him and he shot a load of semen down the Muscovite slave's throat. Ivan at this stage had received about three pints of the enema liquid. Greg closed off the flow at the entrance to butt plug, and stopped any further activity. Putting a timer beside his head, and setting it to 15 minutes where Ivan could easily see it, started it on countdown and let the Russian slave wait, as they went out to wash and to take some fresh air. They say a watched pot never boils. The fifteen minutes seemed interminable for Ivan and when the timer's alarm finally went, he wanted to shout for Greg and Jess to return. But the pain in his bowels was excruciating, and his throat was raw, as he was about to shout out, the door opened and with Jess, Greg came in to slap the top of the timer, switching off the alarm. `I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry, sir,' was again the plaintive cry. `I'm sure you are, Ivan, but when this day is over, you will be a lot sorrier and a lot better trained at doing what a slave should do. Which is what? What should a slave do?' `What the Master wants. What pleases the Master, sir.' `Good. Now let us get you up off this table and ready for the next part.' Ivan's lower belly was distended. It rumbled its discontent as he was hoisted off the table once the velcro straps were undone. Jess brought him over to a shit hole, pulled out the butt bung in one fluid motion and stepped back just in time as the stench of loosened shit, and diarrhoea type waters, together with a faint smell of liquorice assailed his nostrils. It was as if Ivan would never stop shitting, but stop he finally did. When told the second time to get up on the table, he was crying as he had not cried since as child and his tears mixed with his snot, but with resignation he lay back down on the table. The procedure was repeated twice more with the remaining two thirds of the demi-john, the only variants were that his second fifteen minutes was a series of slow squats from heel level to stranding straight up with the unbelievable cramping of his bowels. The third time his fifteen minutes was merely to walk around the shower area of the retraining room with his hands Velcroed behind his neck, and a ball-stretcher and a kilo weight hanging off his balls. By the end of the third hour, he was taking Jess' cock fully down his throat as long as Jess did not leave it in for more than one second. That brought the retraining up to lunchtime, when the retrainers merely left him hanging by his velcroed wrists from a beam. When they left him, his toes were a millimetre off the ground. Then they returned an hour later, Ivan's toes were just touching the ground but able to take some of the weight off his burning arms and shoulders. He was not crying when Greg and Jess came back from lunch to take him down, but said again `I'm sorry, sirs. I'm sorry, sirs.' `That's alright, Ivan, have we kept you waiting? Are you ready for the next session of retraining?' At this point he started crying again, when he saw Greg take down one of the camel canes, and Jess prepared his feet pulled back over his head for a bastinado of the soles of his feet, and a whipping of the backs of his knees. This was followed, Greg filled me in on the further afternoon sessions with a flogging of his balls by a light discipline of corded twine. When Greg brushed the corded twine over his face to let him feel it, Ivan thought that it felt soft. Its impact five times on each of his balls made him scream out his mistaken impression. As the slaves came back in from the fields for the afternoon classes, Bob came up from the Aloe Palace and asked if he could wait for Ivan outside the retraining unit. He knew Aziz would say no, so he put in an optimal training session under Rolf' eye as head of the gym, and asked him. Though nobody's fool, Rolf took pity on the lover and buddy of the slave being retrained and nodded for him to go. Bob sat at the door of the training unit for almost an hour, until Greg came out for something. `Sir, is Ivan ok?' -- Bob, though as assistant overseer himself, was being very deferential to the training overseer -- `Will you tell him I am here?' `Bob, you should not be here. Yes, he is ok, but a very much more obedient, chastened and considerate slave he will be after today. And no, I will not tell him, you are here.' `Sir, please you must tell him. He must know that someone really loves him and that he is not alone in there. Please.' `Wait another ten minutes, then, and he should be out. He doesn't deserve you, Bob.' True to Greg's word, the door opened about ten minutes later and a much chastened Ivan Sorovich emerged to fall into Bob's arms. `Bob, oh Bob! He told me you were here. Oh Bob! I am sorry.' `Come on, let's get you cleaned up a bit. No buddy of mine is going to look as if he was crying over a bit of retraining. Is he?' As he moved Ivan away, with a supporting arm around his back, Bob caught sight of Jess and Greg in the doorway. Greg half twisted his head to tell him to get out of there and gave him a wink of approval. Such was the shock to the body of slaves of the retraining of Ivan Sorovich, that it was over a month before any other slave had to be retrained, from among my present stock of slaves. To be continued..