The Lost - Part 10

By M. Greene published January 25, 2019


Part 10

The Emirate of Kurabadh

Its pleasure receptors tingled as Master pushed the lubricated butt-plug between its tight rubber-covered cheeks and slid it deep inside its ass. It fitted extremely snugly indeed…

“There you go, Number 100…” Emir Alexei said, kissing his latest elite guard on the cheek. “You’ve been such a good, brave boy that you deserve a beautiful reward…” He activated the plug’s vibrator function and watched the guard’s long dick became stiff almost instantly within its black rubber sheath. “A little more power will do the trick, I think…” He doubled the vibration-rate and giggled as the glassy-eyed guard began to ejaculate, jetting huge splashes of thick synthetic semen all over the laboratory floor. “Did you see that?” Alexei exclaimed, chuckling with delight. “It must have produced almost a pint of cum…”

“Highly amusing…” Angus agreed dourly, gazing down at the glistening pearly mess with distaste. He cleared his throat and braced himself for the new Emir’s possible reaction to what he was about to say next. “Given that I have followed your instructions to the letter, perhaps Your Highness will now order the release of my partner and my slave…”

“Of course,” Alexei said, clapping his hands together sharply. One of the few remaining human guards entered the laboratory, glancing warily at the ten rubber-clad giants who stood like statues next to the Professor and the Emir. “Go down to the barracks, fetch the two prisoners and bring them here immediately,” Alexei ordered.

As soon as the worried-looking man hurried out, Alexei placed a metal helmet over the head of the synthetic soldier that had once been Prince Yaqub and strapped a utility belt around its waist. “Code activate!” he barked, stepping back.

The ten elite guards all simultaneously stood to attention, clicked their boot heels together, saluted their Master and marched out of the laboratory towards the Royal Apartments.

“The sooner you process the rest of the remaining human guards, the better,” Alexei said as he watched his new minions depart. “Then all of them can assume their proper duties guarding this palace from possible insurrection.”

“And once that is achieved, I trust that I will be allowed my liberty?” Angus asked.

Alexei graciously inclined his head. “Naturally, Professor Fraser, although I hope that you will continue to reside with us here in Kurabadh. Your services to our state are of immense value…”

Angus grunted. “I will give your request my most careful consideration…”

Emir Alexei nodded curtly at this cryptic reply and left the laboratory to return upstairs. The security situation outside the Royal Palace was starting to cause him serious concern. For the past two days the streets of Kurabadh had been filled with citizens protesting against the new segregation laws, and, according to Chamberlain Ibrahim, the general mood of the people was beginning to turn decidedly ugly…

A few moments later, the laboratory door opened once again to reveal the human guardsman accompanied by the Professor’s very filthy looking friends. Dunce and Hood were naked and their bodies were covered in dirty streaks and stains, but they looked otherwise unharmed. Angus rushed over to greet them, treating his husband to a rapturous hug which lifted him off his feet. “My darling Dunce! I thought I was never going to see you again!”

“Oh Master – I missed you so much!” Dunce cried.

“It too,” Hood agreed, bowing low before its owner.

“Damn, but you both stink to high heaven,” Angus said, wrinkling his nose. “I think the first thing we need to do is to give you two a thorough clean…”

David Hunter drove his jeep incredibly slowly through the crowd gathered outside the Royal Palace. Although the placard-carrying men and women did eventually move out of his way, they appeared to do so only very reluctantly and it took him nearly half an hour to drive only a few yards. Eventually he reached the goods entrance at the rear, which was guarded by a pair of very nervous-looking soldiers. David showed them the official pass the Chamberlain had signed and was waved through, the troopers hurrying to close the gates before any of the chanting people outside could slip through in his wake. Parking as near to the building as he could, David jumped out and walked to the back of the jeep where several plastic crates of sex toys sat waiting to be unloaded.

As he carried the first crate of butt-plugs through the huge kitchen, David wondered at the fact that it was completely deserted. He had heard rumours the day before that the joint Emirs had dismissed many of their catering staff, but he had not expected to find every single one of the domestics gone. How were the two young rulers planning to eat without their usual army of chefs?

Reaching the hallway which led to the rest of the palace, David headed up the back stairs towards the Royal Apartments where Prince Yaqub had said he wanted the butt-plugs stored. The last time he had been up here, the Chamberlain had accompanied him and indicated the exact room in which he should leave his goods. Without Ibrahim’s guidance, David was not completely sure of the way, but he was not unduly worried about this. He reasoned that ‘getting lost’ in the Palace was an ideal excuse for snooping around to discover the exact whereabouts of Professor Fraser and Doctor Granger, as ordered by his bosses at MI6…

Opening a pair of large double-doors, David entered a very spacious and luxurious bedroom. The three interior walls were mirrored, making the place seem even grander than it actually was. The floor was carpeted throughout in cream deep-pile and an enormous bed dominated the centre of the chamber; its mattress, sheets and pillows made entirely out of soft black rubber. This was amazing enough, but even more incredible were the forty-or-so tall figures standing along the sides of the room. Identical in their shiny rubber uniforms and black metal helmets, the men stood to attention, totally motionless. None of them looked in his direction or appeared to even notice that he was there. David put down the crate he was carrying and nervously approached the nearest sentinel. The man did not even seem to be breathing. He stepped closer.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

To David’s utter horror, the figure’s muscular black rubber-clad arms suddenly wrapped themselves around his body, clasping him in a tight bear hug from which he could not free himself. As he struggled in vain, out of the corner of his eye, he saw several of the men standing nearby also moving to completely surround him. Then, his arms were being grabbed and pulled behind his back. David used all his strength to resist this, but the guy doing it was as strong as the one holding him and manipulated his limbs as easily as if he were a rag doll. The click of a pair of handcuffs securing his wrists together was the only sound which broke the eerie, unnatural silence…

Abdul switched on the tele-screen in the main lounge of his hotel and sat down on one of the comfortable leather sofas to wait the Emirs’ special broadcast. He looked glumly around the empty room. There were no guests at all. Due to the gender segregation laws, all the tourists had left and the only person staying here now was Mr Hunter the Englishman, who was out at the present time. He sighed. If this ridiculous policy continued, he would be totally ruined. Although news from outside was being suppressed and the internet blocked, he had heard rumours that Kurabadh was becoming an international pariah state, particularly among its Arab and African neighbours. If things did not improve soon, there would probably be a foreign invasion…

As if sensing his employer’s depressed mood, young Mahmud padded softly into the room, knelt down, undid Abdul’s flies and then began licking and sucking at the old man’s wizened cock. Abdul sighed. He guessed it was true that every cloud did indeed have its silver lining…

The tele-screen cut from the national flag to a shot of the Royal Palace and then to the Ivory Throne of Kurabadh. Seated on this was a strange, bald-headed, youth, clad in what looked like a clinging black cat-suit. “Loyal subjects,” the young man began. “It is I, Alexei, your Emir. You are probably all wondering at my changed appearance…” He smiled and flashed his brilliant blue eyes at the camera. “Do not be concerned, my people, for I have been physically perfected so that I may serve you all better in the days and years to come…” His unlined face then changed its expression to one of sadness. “It is with bitter regret that I must inform you that Yaqub, my dear husband and co-Emir has been taken from us prematurely. He died peacefully with a blessing on his lips for his beloved people and for me, the lonely and bereaved partner he has left behind.” The young man bowed his head for a few seconds at this point as if in deep prayer. A single tear snaked its way down his smooth left cheek. “I know that many of you are sorely distressed about the social changes that you are presently experiencing, my dear subjects, but know that these arrangements are designed to help you to adjust to the new world we are creating here together. These measures are all for your own good. Once our whole nation has embraced the Spartan Way, we will march forwards to a time of glorious peace and prosperity.” The camera panned in to a close-up of Alexei’s handsome face. “In memory of our dearly-departed Emir Yaqub, I declare today and the next two days to be ones of national mourning, during which a strict curfew will be rigorously enforced. It is the duty of all subjects to go home and stay there mourn our late-lamented Emir Yaqub.”

As the screen switched to the flag and national anthem once again, Abdul moaned softly as his dick dribbled a small amount of semen into young Mahmud’s eager mouth. While the hotel owner was convinced that this new regime in Kurabadh would surely be the death of him, he had also decided that he might at least die happy…

Once the film crew had packed up their equipment and gone, Alexei walked out onto the balcony next to the Throne Room and surveyed the scene at the front of the Royal Palace. The huge crowds outside the gates had not dispersed, despite him ordering an immediate curfew in his television broadcast to the nation. Not only that, a few of the more athletic young men appeared to be attempting to scale the walls… There was nothing else for it; he would have to call his elite guards into action to guard the palace from the possibility of riot and revolution…

Surrounded by over a hundred of its brothers, Guard 100 pounded down the corridors of the Palace towards the front courtyard. The order had been given that a crazed mob was invading the grounds and that their Master had to be protected from harm at all costs…

David Hunter opened his eyes and looked around. His vision was slightly blurred and he felt extremely groggy. He appeared to be lying on some kind of bed… Was he back in his hotel, or in a hospital? He had a terrible splitting headache… He attempted to rise, but a series of leather bands had been strapped around his body, pinning him to the mattress and preventing him from moving. Then, three slightly indistinct figures approached and stood looking down at him.

“This will be the last of the guards we have to process,” one of the strangers said. To David’s surprise, the man was speaking in perfect English. He was young and very handsome, with jet black curly hair, cut quite short, and a neat goatee beard and moustache. “Thank God this ghastly ordeal is coming to an end. I must have transitioned over a hundred of these poor men by now…”

“Do not feel bad, Master,” another of the strangers remarked, patting the first one’s muscular shoulder. This man had short blond hair and blue eyes and was even more handsome than his companion. “It is not as if you had any real choice in the matter…”

David opened his mouth to speak, but found that for some reason, he simply could not do so. Had he been sedated or something?

The third stranger was a bald-headed black man, very muscular like his friends, but very scantily clad, wearing only a white loin-cloth. A thick leather collar was fastened around his neck. He handed a stainless steel kidney bowl to the man with the beard. “Here is the prepared hypodermic with the nanites, Master…”

“Thank you, Hood,” the first man replied. He leaned over David, staring down at him with his keen grey eyes. “This will prick your arm very slightly,” he said in fluent Kurabadhi, “but it’s absolutely nothing for you to worry about…”

Almost as soon as Angus finished injecting the nanites into the last guard’s arm, the laboratory door burst open and Chamberlain Ibrahim rushed into the room. The old man was in a dreadful state, weeping and pulling at his robes and long white beard. “We are undone!” He cried in his quavering voice. “Revolutionaries are storming the palace – we shall all be murdered!”

Emir Alexei smiled with relief as he watched more than a hundred of his elite guards lining up between the balcony on which he stood and the palace gates. The young men who had already scaled the walls hesitated at the sight of the black-clad and helmeted soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder facing them in the courtyard.

Alexei leaned forward, his hands clutching the stone balustrade. “Ready…”

Simultaneously, the guards raised their pistols and pointed them in the direction of the fifty-or-so young men who were trespassing and threatening their Master. They clicked off the safety catches.

Some of the intruders began backing away, but a few more foolhardy ones continued to slowly advance towards the guards.

“Take aim…”

The guards began squeezing the triggers of their weapons…

Alexei parted his lips to shout the order to fire…

Angus crashed through a pair of fire doors at the back of the courtyard, followed by Dunce, Hood, Ibrahim and Hassan. Seeing the guards all aiming their weapons towards the crowd of defenceless young men, the Professor cupped his hands around his mouth and bawled out as loudly as he could: “Code - I am ready!”

Every synthetic in the palace immediately froze in place: the guards, Alexei, Dunce, Hood and Hassan. Becoming instant statues, they remained suspended in the positions they were in when Angus shouted his words.

Professor Fraser and Chamberlain Ibrahim approached the bemused crowd of youths.

“Please, return to your homes,” Ibrahim said to them. “Know that the unjust and unfair laws you are protesting against will be rescinded immediately. This I promise you all on my life! As from this day, there will be no more gender segregation in Kurabadh!”

The old Chamberlain’s words were greeted with whoops and cheers.

A few moments later, once the mob had dispersed, Ibrahim stared wide-eyed at the frozen synthetics and then turned to Angus. “Those magical words you said. They must be very powerful indeed to create such an enchantment…”

Angus grinned. “I like to think so; the phrase is the motto of Clan Fraser. Just a little bit of programming really, but I had to choose something that I wasn’t going to forget in a hurry…”

Amanda McFarlane moved slightly to one side so that her cameraman could capture the Royal Palace in the background behind her and, clutching her mike in one beautifully manicured hand, began her outside broadcast. “So, five long months after it began, the coup which overthrew the previous Emir is well and truly over and Prince Hassan, the reports of whose death were greatly exaggerated, is once again at the helm of this tiny Red Sea state. The highly unpopular Gender Segregation Laws, roundly condemned last month by the United Nations, have been repealed. The exact whereabouts of the usurper Prince Yaqub and his partner Alexei Constantos are currently unknown, but it is believed that this restoration has been a completely bloodless event. From the Emirate of Kurabadh, this is Amanda McFarlane, for Wolf News…”

Emir Hassan completed his own televised broadcast to the nation and then rose from the Ivory Throne to embrace the friend who had assisted him to defeat the coup. “I will always be in your debt, Angus,” he said, hugging the Professor to his bosom. “Without you, I would never have regained my kingdom.”

“Now the silly segregation laws are officially history, everything should start to get back to normal,” Angus replied. “By the way, I liked what you said about discrimination always being wrong, no matter what a person’s sexual orientation may be.”

Prince Hassan smiled. “Thank you, my friend, but I am afraid that this usurpation of the throne has cost my poor country dearly.” He sighed. “Tourism, our largest source of income, has totally dried up and my brother’s foolish decision not to tax homosexuals has completely drained what was left of my treasury…”

Angus frowned. “I am very sorry to hear that…”

Hassan put his arm around the Professor’s shoulders. “Given the dire financial straits my country is presently suffering, I have been doing some serious thinking,” he said. “Yaqub and Alexei created far too many of these palace guards. We really only need about fifty at most to keep the Palace safe.” He grinned. “That leaves approximately seventy redundant ones on our hands…”

“Come on, Hassan, what are you plotting?”

Hassan led the way out through some French doors into the beautiful private gardens behind the Palace. A magnificent fountain pulsed jets of water high into the air and small birds twittered in the immaculately maintained bushes and trees. “I plan to turn this land into a veritable paradise,” he said. “My offer of building you and your two companions a house of your own still stands.” He gave Angus another hug. “After all, you deserve it after all you have done for me and you can hardly return to England now, can you?”

Angus shook his head and sighed. “I fear not. It appears that I am a wanted man in my own homeland…” He turned and fixed the Emir with a steely stare. “But all this largesse, generous though it undoubtedly may be, is merely a distraction. Out with it, now… What is your plan?”

Hassan laughed. “You are not the one to be fooled for a moment are you, beloved Angus of my heart? He sat down on the ledge which ran around the fountain and gestured for the professor to join him. “I wish you to re-programme the seventy surplus guards,” he said after a long pause. “Including Yaqub and Alexei…”

“Re-programme in what way, exactly?”

“I wish to open Kurabadh up as the world’s premier destination for gay men,” Hassan replied. “There will be a specially adapted and most luxurious hotel, filled with the most delicious synthetic men for the honoured guests to enjoy; at a steep price, of course…”

Angus nodded. “I am beginning to see where this is going,” he said. It was not such a bad idea, he thought. After all, the synthetics were already slaves. What harm could it do to change their primary duty from fighting to providing sexual pleasure?

“If you agree, I wish you to adapt these young men to suit every taste,” Hassan continued. “Some will be palest white, some black, some Asian and all shades and hues in between. Think of the revenue for the national treasury such a variety of bodies will bring in…”

“Why stop there?” Angus asked. “With a little skill and ingenuity, we could mould them into every stereotypical dream hunk it is possible for gay men to fantasise over.” Warming to his theme, he stood up and began pacing around near the ornamental flower beds. “Soldiers, sailors, firemen, policemen, native warriors, sportsmen, leather-boys, twinks; even superheroes…”

Hassan clapped his hands together in excitement. “I knew you would see the tremendous potential of this,” he exclaimed gleefully. “We could even sell a few of them to those men rich enough to make such an expensive purchase…”

Almost beside himself with excitement, Prince Abdullah ibn Ahmed, heir to one of the richest Arab kingdoms, levered off the lid of the wooden crate and threw it to one side. He was already rock-hard at the prospect of enjoying his magnificent synthetic companion. The creature had cost him almost half his fortune, but he knew it would be well worth the money… Clawing away the straw that had been used to package his prize, Abdullah gazed down at the face of Todd, his perfect American baseball player…

“Code Todd activate…”

Todd opened its bright blue eyes, saw its beloved Master’s face looking down upon it and smiled. It sat up in its crate.

“Code Todd sex partner…”

Todd threw its arms around Master’s neck and leaned up to kiss Him on the lips. Given the close proximity of its Master, its cock was already hard and dripping with synthetic pre-cum… A fleeting memory of once being somebody called David Hunter flitted momentarily through its mind, but this was rapidly dismissed as it concentrated on its primary function of providing its Owner with the hottest sexual experience it was possible to give…

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