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CH. 16

The Changed Life by Gerry Taylor



Chapter 16 - The arrival of the slaves



I was glad that Aziz was the head of the household. He

was not fazed for long by anything which was demanded of

him or of the household.



The only problem was Cook who was not happy at being for

far from the capital. All purchases had to be carefully

made, because if he forgot something, the nearest shop,

store or supermarket was a hour’s drive away. Also, he

was very conscious of the fact that only he and the

driver were servants, the remainder being slaves. And he

like to keep his appointment in the Italian embassy

every Saturday evening for his religious observances.



While the slaves did not require food, only their daily

morning and evening allowance of their special diet,

Cook was helped by Yuriy who would drop by the kitchen,

sit cross legged on the floor and clean and scrape and

peel any vegetables given to him to do. I told Cook that

it would be only for some weeks and so it was.



Food and Drink had arrived with two other slaves, whom I

named Court and Yard, as they were to keep the surrounds

of the Palace clean. When that was done, I explained how

they were to hoe a section of the vegetable garden with

an type of local adze which was very effective. They

seemed to be, on the face of it, willing workers, at

least while I was around, so I usually had Aziz leave

them to their own devices and little by little, some

days very little by very little, the section of the

vegetable garden was cleared and dug and prepared for a

crop. Aziz however was of the opinion that they were

layabouts and always referred to them as such.



One weekend morning, the slaves worked everyday without

break, I saw Aziz have them bend over and he

administered five of the best to each of them across

their buttocks. They flinched, they shouted, and within

minutes were using their adzes as if their very lives

were in jeopardy.



Aziz saw me and came over.



‘Master?’



‘Problem?’



‘No, Master, they had done nothing in an hour. I was

watching them. I have just put some gasoline in their

tanks, I think.’



The adzes flashing in the air seemed to confirm his Arab

way of thinking.



We were walking towards the servants quarters where he

had an office adjoining his quarters, even though he

himself was my slave, when he said that the ownership

papers had arrived on the two slaves which I had

purchased and needed attention. It was his polite way of

saying I had to pay for them. I told him to get the

papers ready and that I would be with him presently.



I got my cheque book from the Palace and walked back to

his quarters. He seemed uneasy. When I enquired why, he

replied I was the first Master to be in his office.



I looked at the first file which was that of the Kurd.

He was only 18 years old and had been sold by his

family, or rather by his step-father who had married his

mother and wanted both money and him out of the way. His

lifting had cost 2,000 euro, and his price in the

auction room was 8,000 euro. Rashid had sold him to me

at the same price. Some of the comments on the file on

the work he had done at Rashid’s Palace indicated a very

low opinion of him, useless for a sex toy and useless on

the farm as he was so lazy. His name was Ali Tasani.



His sex boxes said, ‘Fertile: Yes’, ‘Flaccid: 8’,

‘Erect: 15’, ‘Circ: 11’.



A rather puny specimen of slavehood at 65 kgs.



The second file was far more interesting. This slave had

been lifted by mistake. The lifters were supposed to

take the American with whom he was travelling in

Morocco. They apparently were rather similar in build,

and in the proverbial dark alley, they had mistaken one

for the other, knocked out the American, and ‘lifted’ an

English man, who within an hour was on a ship which

sailed on the day’s second tide out of Rabat.



His name was Greg Logan, 27 years old and he was a

painter and decorator by trade, though had served four

years in the Royal Navy and then two years in the Navy’s

Commandos.



He was 6 foot 3 and 90 kgs in weight, or at least had

been before his ordeal, uncut, anally virgin, SIN

473184, a heart shaped tattoo on his right arm with an

arrow through it, and two small moles on his back.



His sex boxes said, ‘Fertile: infertile’ (this was

circled) – interesting I thought, ‘Flaccid: 8’, ‘Erect:

15’, ‘Circ: 19’.



His file from the head of household at Rashid’s Palace

showed phrases of quiet desperation in the writer. The

slave was rebellious to the utmost degree. He had been

flogged twice. He had been starved. He had been left

hanging by his thumbs and big toes for two days. He had

fought and kicked at every opportunity, and finally had

spit one day at Rashid himself when Rashid was

inspecting something or other. The spit fortunately had

not hit Rashid otherwise the slave would have been

killed there and then, but the penalty was what I had

seen, death by thirst in sight of water.



The file also said the Master had been reserving a

particular pleasure for himself of breaking him in

anally.



His lifting had cost four thousand euro and his purchase

price in the slave market was twenty two thousand euro,

the same price for which Rashid was now selling him to

me. I wrote a cheque for 36,000 euro and gave it to Aziz

for sending to Rashid al-Akhri.



I told Aziz that apart from these two new slaves, I was

expecting six others. He appeared very pleased, saying,

‘The Palace needs a lot of work if the Master is to be

well and truly pleased and pleasured at all times.’



I explained that one slave would work in the kitchen

instead of Cook who would return to the capital. He

nodded. I also said that two of the new slaves would be

personal slaves to me, but that the other three apart

from light duties I might require of them, would assist

in the fields surrounding the Palace and in the gardens,

where I had certain plans.



‘It is a great thing to see the Aloe Palace being used

once again’, he commented.



I gave very specific instructions on the hygiene of the

slaves and told him how I wanted the slaves’ body hair

cut and some tattoos removed, one on the young Kurd, one

on Ross which was a dragon’s tail on his left buttock,

two moles on Yuriy left thigh which were his only

blemish, that moles and tattoo on the two most recent

arrivals. He said it would be arranged and was very

pleased to see that order would be brought on the

slaves, whom I suspected he thought were having it a bit

too easy at present.



I said I would go to inspect Ali the Kurd, and the other

slave Greg to see if he had survived the night.



Aziz informed that he had survived, he himself being

happily surprised to see an extra two new faces in the

stables when he went to get the slaves up.



Jiri and Ali were working in the swimming pool area,

Jiri on his hands and knees cleaning the pool, showing a

nice crack in his firm arse and Ali, sweeping up dust

and sand a bit too casually.



They both went on their knees in obeisance when I

arrived. I told Jiri to continue on cleaning whatever he

was doing. Ali got up when I ordered him. His back

showed some beatings, the disks on his spine appearing

clearly thought his dusky skin. He went into ‘display’

position immediately.



I looked first and foremost into his eyes. They did not

wish to make contact with him, and contained only fear.

There was no hatred, no resentment, no resignation, only

fear.



Aziz was standing beside me, and I took the cane which

he had in his hand and with which he had ‘put gasoline

in the tanks’ of the two layabouts doing the gardening.



Ali’s eyes were now totally wide with fear. There was so

much white, his irises had grown small and the brown

colouring of the pupils were in stark relief. I told

Aziz to leave us which he did and I continued my

inspection of Ali.



His chest though stuck out was the underdeveloped chest

of a teenager. His pits had a bush of dark axiliar hair

each. I tugged at it until he was standing on tippy toe

and, if his eyes could have gone whiter, they would

have. His hands were behind his head, so reaching behind

him, I put the cane in his hands. If before he was

fearful, now he was now totally confused.



I examined his soft nipples, but did not squeeze them

too hard. His teeth were excellent, and did not appear

to have a filling. I wondered if he had every seen a

dentist in his life apart from whatever inspection at

the auction rooms.



A ...


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