THE BEZISTAN CHRONICLES Chapter 11 `The New Slaves' Arrival'
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Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christople_Stories
"The characters and ideas in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without his permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures."
Chapter 11: `The New Slaves' Arrival'
The newly arrived slaves, each securely locked in his cage, wait silently within the cargo bay of the plane. Still traumatised, they are full of dread as to what is going to happen to them. Silently, each is lost within the solitude of his despair and they weep for their lost lives, family and friends. Apart from an occasional sob or a cry of anguish, the only other sounds to disturb the silence are the animated conversations of the two handlers who wait inside the rear loading ramp.
As the ramp opens and slowly lowers to the ground, the newly arrived slaves are enveloped in a blast of hot, desert air whilst those waiting below on the tarmac are assailed with a foul stench emanating from inside the plane.
Ominously, for the newly arrived slaves, they now hear noisy shouting, the loud cracking of whips, and the angry `thwack' of the whips striking naked flesh and the answering yelps of pain.
Once the ramp is lowered, Prince Rashid and Geoffrey Miles-Layton walk quickly toward the plane. Rashid is anxious to view his newest shipment of slaves and he hurries up the ramp to greet the two overseers.
"Greetings, Jalal. Greetings, Ghalib." He warmly greets the two overseers.
"Welcome back and I hope you had a good flight?"
"Welcome, Your Highness." Jalal returns the greeting. "Yes thank you, the trip was uneventful. Ghalib and I humbly apologise for the smell. Unfortunately, these new slaves are a messy lot and I'm afraid they do reek."
"Your apologies aren't needed, Jalal." The prince answers graciously. "Unfortunately, that is an unavoidable consequence in the transporting of any livestock. I hope their bad odour wasn't too distressing?"
"No Your Highness, Ghalib and I have worked on too many shipments to be upset by a slave's stink."
"I'm glad to hear it. Geoff, please ensure the Jalal and Ghalib are suitably rewarded for their good grace and patience." Rashid instructs his estate manager. "Now tell me, how did the slaves travel? Well, I trust?"
"Very well, Your Highness. They are a timid lot and won't cause their trainers too much trouble. However, there was one slave who claimed he was a friend of Your Highness' and threatened us with dire punishment once you recognised him and set him free. Ghalib used his prod on the dog to subdue him. We then re-gagged him and left him without food or water for the duration of the flight."
"Ahh, I think I know of the slave you refer to. You must point him out to me. I have eagerly anticipated this slave's arrival. Please take me to him."
"Certainly, Your Highness, come this way." Jalal leads Rashid and Geoff to the cage in which a frightened and subdued prisoner is crouching.
"Ahh yes! Yes, yes indeed! This is the slave I've been expecting." Rashid excitedly peers into the cage at the naked and struggling young man who is desperately trying to mouth an appeal through his gag. His efforts are rewarded by Rashid's cruel laugh.
"Geoff, allow me to introduce you to Mike. Mike as know was my `harvester' in the UK. He is responsible for sending us many fine slaves over the past three years. I had a mutually satisfactory arrangement with Mike; he supplied me with handsome, new slaves and I, for my part, made him a wealthy, young man. It is such a pity this couldn't continue - but you see wealth made Mike too self-assured and this lead to a regrettable cockiness on his part. On my last trip to London, Mike adopted a most unsatisfactory attitude towards me. He took it upon himself to regard our relationship as one of friendship rather than one of business. He failed to show me the deference due to my rank and I determined then he should become my slave. I arranged for his associates to cage him up and send him to me. So now here he is - a slave. But tell me Geoff, what do you think? I have plans to make him into a heavy-duty, draft slave. Do you think he has the body and stamina for such a role?"
"I think he'll make an excellent draft slave." Geoff observes as he looks more closely at the still protesting Mike. "He has a strong, muscular physique. We can build on that and we can also work to boost his endurance and stamina. Several months harnessed to a plough should bulk him nicely before we graduate him to a team of heavy duty drafts. He looks to have a good back with strong, broad shoulders and narrow waist. From what I can see of him he has long, muscular legs and powerful thighs, again an advantage for a draft animal. But I'll be able to judge him better once he's out of his cage. And from this angle, he does appear to have a great arse and that's an advantage for a slave when he's working in a team."
"Speaking of his arse, Geoff, I would think he'll make a magnificent mare for his fellow draft slaves. As a `new chum' I think he'll get very little rest during the night what with the other stallion slaves lining up to use him."
"I think we may need to stretch him before we let them loose on him. We don't want him too sore to work."
"By all means stretch his hole, but I wouldn't worry too much about him not being able to work. The slave-driver's whip should take care of that. Still we've spent enough time on this slave. Let's move on and see what Mike has `harvested' for us this time?"
Moving from cage to cage, Rashid and Geoff pause before each of the cringing occupants and discuss their potential as slaves. Rashid is impressed with the prime quality of the livestock and observes that once they are trained and ready for sale they will sell well at auction. Turning to Jalal and Ghalib he congratulates them on their handling of the transport of the new slaves and offers them first choice of any two slaves they would like to train.
"Because of your good service in delivering these slaves to me in such good condition, I'm giving both of you first choice of those slaves you wish to train. You can each choice two slaves and once Geoff has processed them through quarantine, they will be yours to train. Would you like to choose now?"
Eagerly, both Jalal and Ghalib thank Prince Rashid for his kind offer and waste no time in selecting their slaves. After carefully looking over the slaves and much discussion between themselves, Jalal addresses Prince Rashid.
"Thank you, Your Highness for your kind offer of first choice of the new slaves. You do us great honour. We assure you that we will spare nothing in their training so that they reach the high standards demanded of all al-Bahr slaves. For his part Ghalib has chosen the twin slaves from America and my choice is for a blond, Irish slave named Declan and a dark haired slave known as Jude. Although they are about to lose those names and will, in future, simply be called `slave'."
"So be it. Geoff will ensure that the slaves you have chosen will be delivered into your care once they are cleared of any illnesses or parasites. All that remains to be done now is to unload them, clean them up and move them into their cells before darkness. Once again my sincere thanks to you both for a job well done. I hope you enjoy the time you spend in training your charges. By all means you have my permission to use their bodies for your pleasure as a necessary part of their training. Good luck to you both!"
Satisfied with this new shipment of young slaves, Rashid and Geoff take their leave of Jalal and Ghalib and leave the plane.
Part 2: Luc
Of course, back in the warehouse in London, we'd all been told by Mike, who is now locked in the cage next to me, that we are slaves on consignment to our new owner somewhere in the Middle East. We had found this difficult to comprehend and thought that what was happening to us was some elaborate hoax; ridiculously, I even wondered whether I'd been caught up in some kind of survival TV show.
Although, when we were loaded onto a lorry and driven to an isolated air-strip somewhere in the south-west of the UK, I began to worry. Somehow, it dawned on me that this is for 'real'. My worst fears were confirmed when we were delivered into the hands of two, fierce looking men of Middle Eastern appearances and loaded onto the plane.
I watch intently as a tall, regal Arab, who I assume is the prince referred to earlier by my captors, enters the cargo bay of the plane. If so, then this man is the Master I must now serve as a slave - the concept of me as a slave is one that my confused mind is still coming to grips with. My new Master is dark complexioned and his handsome face is framed by a black beard. Despite his handsome features I shudder involuntarily as I note his cruel mouth and pitiless black eyes - there is something about him that terrifies me. This Arab is accompanied by a handsome, blond man of European appearance whom he calls Geoff. Looking at both men, I estimate their ages at around 30 years.
Beneath their clothing both men have strong muscular bodies and each has an air of invincible superiority. As they stand in front of Mike's cage discussing his future role as a slave, I note both men speak with impeccable upper-class English accents. Now as they turn their attention to me, I cringe back as far as my cage allows. I listen in fascinated horror as they discuss me in terms of my worth as a slave. I am described by the Arab as a magnificent animal worthy to wear the al- Bahr brand. Then they move on to the next cage to continue their inspection of the other new arrivals. Finally, satisfied, they leave the plane.
Almost immediately, we hear angry shouting, cracking whips and cries of pain as a group of twenty, naked slaves are driven up the ramp and into the interior of the cargo bay. These slaves appear less than human and more like the beasts of burden they have become. All are naked except for heavy metal collars around their necks, a genital cinch which thrust their semi- erect cocks and balls forward in an obscene display and heavy metal bands around their wrists and ankles. Their sun blackened bodies are heavily muscled, which hints at the heavy labour they are subjected to and they are in a filthy state.
Unwashed, their hair and beards are unkempt and the matted hair on their chests and bellies is stuck to their bodies under a patina of sweat and dirt. They cower as their overseers piteously lash their whip-scarred backs and rumps. Vainly, they try to protect their vulnerable bodies from the overseers' abuses.
Under the shouted direction of their overseers, these slaves work in five groups of four and each group is whip driven to pick up a cage, containing a new arrival and carry it off the plane. No sooner is this done that the whips drive them back into the plane to repeat the process.
Shocked, I watch as each cage with its unwilling occupant is slave-handled out of the cargo hold.
Now it is my turn and I brace myself within my cage as four massive slaves effortlessly pick me up and carry me down the ramp. As they do so, they are hurried along by the drivers' whips and I'm forced to steady myself by holding tightly onto bars. Once down the ramp my cage is carried to the side of the tarmac to where the other cages are already placed. As I'm carried along, I feel my first blast of the furnace-like desert heat to which I'll be exposed in the coming days. As my body is blasted by the blistering heat, I'm temporarily blinded by the intensity of the sunlight
Gradually my eyes adjust to the glare and I'm now able to see the furious activity surrounding the unloading of the cages. As I watch, the remaining cages are carried out and stacked alongside my own cage. I'm appalled as the cruel whips are applied to the work slaves doing the unloading and I'm left wondering if I and the other new arrivals will be subjected to this same brutal treatment. Then, as I look out from my cage, I recoil in horror at the sight of the two transports obviously waiting to transport us to the processing and quarantine centre.
These four-wheeled transports are similar in appearance to small circus cages and are high enough to accommodate ten to fifteen standing men. Harnessed to these carts are teams of twenty, naked draft slaves. These pitiful wretches are yoked together in pairs, five pairs on each side of the central shaft. Each pair wears a heavy wooden yoke around the neck and shoulders and in front of each pair, at chest height is a heavy cross bar to which their wrists are shackled. Short chains connect their yokes to these same cross bars effectively forcing their bodies forward at an angle of approximately forty-five degrees. This has the effect of exposing more of their backs and rumps to their drivers' whips.
Each slave wears leather blinkers at the side of his head which restricts his vision to the way immediately ahead of him. These miserable, sweating slaves stand docilely in the blazing sun and are grateful for the respite they are currently enjoying. They know that as soon as we have been loaded into the carts they will be whipped into action. Then they will have to use every muscle in their pain-wracked bodies to satisfy the demands of their overseers.
Chained as they are, they are tormented by insects feeding on the accumulated filth and sweat of their bodies. With their shackled wrists, they are unable to use their hands to brush away the annoying flies and other insects. The only recourse open to them is to stamp their feet and shake their bodies in a vain attempt to dislodge the persistent pests. Even as I watch, one of the overseers lays his whip across the shoulders of the slave nearest to him with the admonishment to "stand still, you lazy dog." The slave screams with pain but has a momentary respite as the lash disturbs the insects feasting on his sweat soaked body.
My horror at the plight of these wretched slaves is as nothing to that felt by Mike. As I look at him, I see his eyes open wide with terror; he is now looking out from his cage at the reality of his own future. Within a few short days, his naked and branded body will be straining under the yoke as he labours incessantly under the cruel whips of his overseers.
He lets out a roar of anguish at this appalling prospect.
To be continued............