The Bezistan Chronicles
Chapter 6: Aindrias in the Palace Gardens

This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over
the age of eighteen years

Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris)
An archive of my stories can be found at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"The characters and ideas contained in this story are the
writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect
the integrity of this story and don't do rewrites, alterations or
add pictures."

Chapter 6: Aindrias in the Palace Gardens

As a result of my wilfulness and stupidity, I am to be caned. My
Master, in his anger, has ordered that I'm to be taken to the
whipping-yard and given ten strokes and humiliatingly, he has
commanded me to beg the whip- master to apply the cane with the
full force of his arm. To say I'm frightened is an
understatement. I am terrified!

Ruefully, I rub my still smarting ass as I watch my Master drive
away from the palace and disappear down the long curving
driveway. Today, for the first time, my body has `tasted leather'
and the ache in my ass is testimony to the whip's fiery fury.

I now know that my Master can, in his anger, wield his whip
fiercely. His whip has taught me a valuable lesson and it has
convinced me not to anger him in future.

I can see Prince Rashid viciously whipping the two ponies both as
punishment and to make them run faster. I'm very much aware that
my Master is furious with them and with me; the ponies because
they fouled the entrance to his residence and me for my
reluctance in displaying myself to him - something that as a
slave I must do. I'm to be punished for my intransigence and I
quake at the thought of the ten strokes of the cane that I will
soon suffer.

I've been caned many times in the past for one misdemeanour or
another; this is routine for all the stable's slaves. However,
these canings have never exceeded two or possibly three strokes
at the most. When working around the stables, it's usual for our
overseers to cane us - sometimes these punishments are warranted;
at other times it just a case of a liverish overseer wanting to
work off his bad temper.

Often these canings are simply delivered to the backs of our
thighs as we stand; on other occasions we are made to bend at the
waist and present our asses to the cane. Both forms of caning are
extremely painful and I wonder about the mechanics of my
punishment.

Will I be suspended in a whipping frame and have the cane applied
to my shoulders, buttocks and thighs?

Or will I suffer the ultimate humiliation and be doubled over a
trestle and caned on the ass?

I suspect the latter, because I know that, as well as the pain
inflicted on a slave by caning or whipping, a major part of the
punishment requires that he is also humiliated.

My mind still isn't able to grasp what is happening to me this
morning. When I awoke, the day had promised to be like all other
days - how wrong I was. From a slave's perspective each day is
the same as the previous one - for a slave nothing ever changes.
It's true our duties might vary and there's always the
possibility of our being punished and of course, for the stable
slaves, there's the inevitability of the overseers using them for
sex.

The overseers, by and large, are an unattractive lot with huge
sexual appetites and the slaves are hard pressed to meet their
insatiable demands. At any given time, it is usual to find a
number of the stable slaves either on their knees sucking cock or
on all fours having their asses ploughed.

Fortunately, as `Geoff's Pet' I am spared the overseers' abuse
but unfortunately, my special status as a `pet' doesn't protect
me from either my Master's anger or his attention. He has decided
that that he will fuck me upon his return later this afternoon.

As I have never been fucked before, I'm full of dread; yet I'm
also strangely excited at the prospect. In truth, this is
something I've wanted for a very long time but now that it is to
happen, I'm no longer sure. I am apprehensive and I wonder - will
I enjoy it? Will it hurt?

From overheard conversations between the overseers, I understand
my Master is very well endowed and is ruthless and thoughtless in
his use of his pleasure slaves within the palace. I now recall
their jocular comments that my Master `rough fucks his slaves'.
Is this to happen to me?

But, I know what to expect from the cane. I have felt it many
times and I know its pain is excruciating. In the past, I've only
ever received, at the most, three strokes and now I'm to receive
ten. I am terrified and I feel my belly turn to water.

Suddenly, these thoughts are interrupted and I am jerked back to
reality by the angry shouting of Daoud, my master's major domo
ordering me to clean up the ponies' drying puddles of piss.

I diligently apply myself to this task and when I have finished,
I wait patiently for Daoud's sign of approval. Finally, and after
much close inspection, he grudgingly gives it and orders me to
follow him to the whipping-yard. My legs tremble as I trot after
him.

"Move yourself, slave." the major domo orders me. "We have a lot
to attend to before your Master returns. We don't have all day to
waste."

I'm a stranger to the palace and so I follow him as he enters
through a gateway into the palace-grounds.

Entering through the gate, I gasp in astonishment. I'm confronted
with a sweeping panorama of verdant green lawns, exotic trees,
shady paths and beds of colourful flowering plants running down
to a manmade lake. I gape in awe at the magnificent scene before
my eyes. I am totally unprepared for the grandeur and the scope
of this oasis in the harsh desert environment of my world.

Vaguely, I'm aware of the garden's existence - all we slaves are.
However, they are strictly `out of bounds' to those of us
designated as common work slaves; I can't begin to imagine the
punishment meted out to a slave foolish enough to trespass here.
As a stable slave, I've never been allowed this close to the
walled compound surrounding my Master's home before; I'm
accustomed to the more austere surroundings of the whitewashed
stables and the other buildings which help to make up the vast
agricultural holding.

Suddenly, I am confronted by an army of naked, white slaves
working under the direction and the whips of impatient
slave-masters and their slave assistant overseers. Until now, I
didn't know of their existence and had never given any thought to
what happened within the closed walls of my Master's palace. As a
slave, I'm too pre-occupied with the uncertainty of my own
existence to interest myself in matters that don't directly
affect me.

Subsequently, I am to learn that these slaves, like the palace
slaves, are chosen for their pleasing appearances. Their presence
in the palace grounds is twofold; to provide the labour force
required to maintain the gardens and to beautify the grounds by
their physical presence. These slaves reflect my Master's delight
in enslaving the `despised' white race and they have been taken
into slavery from around the world.

Without exception, they are young and handsome with strong
muscular bodies - the epitome of male, physical perfection. All
have prominent cocks and balls which are obscenely displayed, in
a semi-erect form, by their genital rings. These slaves are
majestic in their nakedness and my cock instantly springs to
attention.

These magnificent creatures are chosen personally by my Master to
toil in his gardens. When my Master visits his gardens it isn't
only to enjoy the plants and flowers. He delights in watching the
sweating, straining bodies of his slaves as they labour under the
lash.

A connoisseur of the male form, he regards these slaves as living
sculptures who enhance the beauty and perfection of his palace
grounds. He delights in displaying them and any visitors to the
palace are always taken on a walking tour of the gardens. Placed
throughout the gardens are a number of palatial pavilions from
where my Master and his guests, attended by a retinue of slaves
from the palace, can enjoy the sensual sight of his sweat
glistening slaves at work.

I watch as these slaves bend to their tasks of digging, hoeing,
weeding, planting and pruning. All are sweating profusely under
the fierce sun and the stripes on their backs and asses testify
to the overseers' impatience and willingness to punish any
slackness on the part of a lazy slave.

Other slaves are harnessed to heavy lawnmowers which are briskly
moving back and forth across the immaculate lawns; the straining
bodies and bulging muscles of these slaves are evidence of the
intensity of their labours. They too, are whipped to maintain the
required speed and output of their assigned workloads. Still
other draft slaves, yoked together in pairs, are harnessed in
teams of ten to heavy drays delivering loads of well composted
manure for use as fertilizer on the garden beds before removing
any unwanted vegetable matter to the distant composting pits.

"Good afternoon to you, Daoud. What brings you out of the palace
and into the gardens?"

I look to see who is talking and see a slave-master in charge of
a gang of ten slaves bent double weeding a garden bed.

"You may well ask, Ali. As if I didn't have enough to do inside
the palace? Before leaving for the airstrip, His Highness
commanded me to deliver this slave to the whipping -yard for a
caning. After which, I'm to get him ready for fucking."

One of the work slaves, mistakenly thinking that the
slave-master's attention is diverted by this exchange, seeks to
relieve the strain on his body by standing up and stretching his
cramped muscles. Instantly, the overseer's whip snakes out and
wraps around the offending slave's belly and back leaving a
livid, red stripe against the burnished copper of his skin.  As
the slave screams in pain the overseer angrily orders him to.

"Get back to work you lazy bastard. You weren't given permission
to rest. NOW BEND YOUR BACK!!"

Again the slave screams as the overseer's whip lashes diagonally
across his bent and exposed back. Immediately the slave resumes
his labours with renewed vigour. I however, flinch as the whip
cracks across my fellow slave's body and I recall my own recent
encounter with the whip.

"Ah, a slave-master's role isn't an easy one is it Daoud? Do you
see what I have to put up with - lazy slaves who are always
looking to slacken off? Slaves by their natures are a cunning
lot. They're always looking for ways to take advantage of my good
humour. Really I'm driven to distraction by this gang of slaves.
Some of them are new to slavery and haven't yet learned to fully
apply themselves to their labours. I only came on duty two hours
ago and already my arm aches from constantly whipping them to
make them work harder and faster."

"Speaking of them, you have some fine looking slaves in your
charge, Ali."

"Well Prince Rashid doesn't only come into the gardens to admire
the plants. He really enjoys watching handsome, muscular slaves
sweat as they toil under the lash. The slaves hate it when he
visits the gardens; especially when he has guests. They know they
will be worked harder and whipped unmercifully for his
entertainment. His Highness appreciates the yelps and groans of
the slaves as they are whipped to obtain maximum effort from
their labours."

"Yes I know what you mean. The Prince is the same with the palace
slaves. They never know when they will be sent down to the
punishment yard for a flogging. Like the slaves in your charge,
they too have learned to dread any visitors. Usually, His
Highness will randomly choose a number of slaves to be punished
as entertainment for his guests. And I can tell you it's about to
get worse for the slaves. Prince Rashid has just informed me that
his father, Prince Youssef is coming to live permanently at the
Bezistan. As you will recall, Prince Youssef involves himself in
all aspects of the estate's activities; especially those that
involve the slaves. If the slaves think their lives are harsh now
just wait until they come under the close scrutiny of Prince
Youssef.  But tell me, Ali! Do you make use of the slaves'
bodies?

"Of course I do, Daoud! That is one of the perks of this job. As
you know Prince Rashid allows his slave-masters full use of the
slaves under their control. I would be foolish not to take
advantage of His Highness' generosity."

"Some of them look to be eminently fuckable. Do you have any
favourites?"

"I've used them all at various times. My current favourite is
that young, German slave with his ass facing towards us. As he
has only recently been enslaved, his hole is still tight. When I
fuck him he yelps and bucks like a virgin at her deflowering. I
really enjoy that."

Both men laugh as they talk of the German slave's shame.

As I stand quietly at display, I feel the slave-master's eyes
sweeping over my body. There isn't any embarrassment in this for
me. Like all slaves, I'm aware that we are on open display at all
times.

"Daoud, I would like to inspect your slave." Ali asks
courteously. "Do I have your permission?"

"Of course, Ali, the slave's at your disposal."

The major domo answers; then turning he instructs me.

"You slave; you heard; now do it and be quick about it. Present
yourself for inspection."

Hurriedly I stand before the two slave-masters and maintain the
display position. Anxious to please them, I stand upright with my
legs apart and I stretch my body to better display my
musculature; humbly, I bow my head in submission.

"SLOPPY! That's far too sloppy."

I'm shocked at the major domo's admonishment and reel backwards
as he viciously cuffs the side of my head.

"Square those shoulders! Thrust out your chest! Suck in your
belly! Present your cock and balls for a PROPER inspection! Ali,
please accept my apologies for the slave's lack of respect.
However, as you can see, he is now ready for your inspection."

"There's no need to apologise, Daoud." Ali replies graciously. "I
know how frustrating it can be to get a slave to respond properly
to an instruction."

Ali moves in front of me and begins his inspection by feeling the
hardness of my biceps before moving over my shoulders and down to
my chest. There, he pauses and slowly twists my nipples between
his fingers; I wince as I feel them harden. Satisfied, his hands
move over my belly, stopping to explore the navel and then
continue down to my groin.

Immediately, I raise myself onto my toes and thrust out my
genitals - in the mandatory acknowledgement of a slave's
submission to his Master or his Master's agents. Ali takes my
scrotum in his hands and he gently squeezes my balls. Again, I
wince but remain motionless as he continues his onslaught on my
defenceless body. Then he begins to slowly work my cock and I
reward him with my hard erection. Gently, he strokes me to full
arousal and I give myself over to the pleasure of the moment. My
cock throbs with delight at Ali's attention to it and in
response; I suddenly feel the pleasurable, precursory squirts of
my pre-cum dribbling from my piss-slit. Perhaps, Daoud or Ali are
unaware of my `hands-off' status or they choose to ignore it.
Either way, I don't care as my body succumbs to this all too rare
stimulation under another's hands.

Suddenly, Ali releases my cock and once more I'm left in the
limbo of my frustration. My cock is almost at the point of no
return and is begging for its reward; yet my longed for
ejaculation is denied me and, as a slave, I have to hide my
disappointment.

"He's a magnificent animal, Daoud. He's a lovely piece of slave
flesh. I could do with such a slave in my work gang. I notice by
his ass that he has recently tasted the whip. Tell me about it?'

"He received that from Prince Rashid for gross disobedience.
Foolishly, the slave thought conceal to his hole from view whilst
his Master was quite legitimately inspecting him. The prince was
furious and applied the lash to him. Also, as a consequence, he
is to receive ten strokes of the cane before the prince fucks him
later today. I never cease to be amazed at the stupidity of
slaves. They truly are nothing more than dumb animals; fit only
to be beasts of burden."

"Did you say ten strokes of the cane? Then, surely he will suffer
for his disobedience. He'll be walking around with a well
reddened rump for a few days. Still I hear the Prince enjoys
fucking an ass that has been well prepared by the cane.
Obviously, he likes his steak to be `well tenderised'. But let me
see what it is that the slave tried so foolishly to hide. BEND
OVER, SLAVE AND SPREAD!"

Bearing in mind my earlier lesson from my Master, I instantly
obey Ali's command and shuffle my feet further apart, bend at the
waist and lower my head. Then reaching behind, I grasp both my
buttocks in my hands and pull them apart as far as possible. My
ass-hole is now fully exposed and, for the second time today, I
feel my sphincter pulsing to the rhythm of my heart-beats. My
earlier reluctance to fully open myself up to my Master's
inspection has gone; now, I am eager to obey. Nevertheless, I
still feel shame and humiliation and tears moisten my eyes.

I stand docilely as Ali appraises my ass with the expertise
common to all slave-masters. He squeezes my buttocks, testing
them for their firmness and explores the valley between them
before exciting the sensitive tissue of my sphincter. He is
pleased with my quivering response as he tests my hole for
tightness and soundness. Finally, he moves his finger along the
welt left by my Master's whip. I flinch at his touch and yelp
with pain. Then, with the customary dismissal used by all the
overseers, he disdainfully slaps my ass and orders me to.

"STAND. FACE THE FRONT AND DISPLAY!"

"Thank you Daoud, for allowing me to inspect the slave; it was a
delightful diversion. It's obvious that this slave will please
His Highness. How I envy him. My guess is that the slave will be
very sore after tonight; what with being caned and then fucked.
Still that's why he's here, isn't it? To submit to his Master's
will and provide him with pleasure. But, please excuse me; I can
see some of my slaves are slacking off. It's time to tickle their
backs
with the whip."

"Well then Ali, I'll leave you to it. I'm glad you enjoyed your
inspection of him. Now however it's time to deliver him to the
whip-master. Come along, slave. It's now time to get you doubled
over the whipping trestle."

As we leave the gardens, I hear shouts from Ali as he and his
assistants furiously lash the backs of the slaves under his
command. The air is full of the Ali's abuse, the loud cracking of
his whip, the `thwack' of leather striking naked flesh and the
cries of the long suffering , garden slaves.

Following after the major domo, my body trembles for I know my
own suffering is about to begin.



To be continued..............................