Kiera of Gor (21)

21: Smiling faces, sometimes

I woke gradually from a restful and profound sleep, enjoying the blissful luxury of a late morning lie in under soft sheets of high quality Egyptian cotton. It must be a Sunday morning my drowsy mind told me as I stretched my body on the bed, snuggling down under the covers, resting my head on the soft enveloping pillows. I breathed in the pleasant soothing scent of jasmine and felt at peace with the world. Perhaps I would rise soon and have breakfast at a fashionable brunch bar in Russell Court before visiting an art gallery close by. The day was mine, all mine, the way Sundays were meant to…

I woke suddenly with a start, fear coursing through my veins. What was I thinking? I was a slave! I was kajira! Where was I now? My eyes snapped open and to my horror I found I was lying on an expensive bed under expensive sheets. I could be whipped for this! With a cry of anguish I threw myself from the bed, dropping to the tiled floor on my knees. What had I done? How is it I had dared to sleep in a bed? I was terrified now. I would be whipped for this! I was kajira! My place was on the floor, chained by my collar like a beast. I was kajira! It was inconceivable that I should even touch the bed of my mistress let alone dare to use it! Had I been seen? I must have been seen! My punishment would be severe! I looked about the bed chamber and for a moment seemed confused because it was strange, not the bed chamber of my mistress but larger, more spacious, with differently arranged furnishings and two wide, deep alcoves, one of which was curtained and obscured, the other open to my sight. Light streamed through double bay windows beyond which I heard the cry of sea birds. I was naked except for my collar.

I would be whipped. I knew I would be whipped for this, for I had no possible excuse. I didn’t even know how I had ended up in the bed! What had happened to me? Where was Arianna? Where was this place?

I was terrified. I was a slave.

“Good morning, Kiera,” it was a woman's voice that I didn’t recognise. “I trust you slept well? Perhaps you would care to join me for breakfast?”

A free woman knelt in tower beside a low table on the sun lit veranda that was accessible through the open bay window doors. She was dressed in beautiful red gowns of a rich burgundy colour like the finest wine. She appeared to be unveiled, but hooded, though there was something about her face that made it seem to be partly in shadow. At the low table itself was an astonishing array of items that were familiar to me, but hardly to Gorean women. I saw a cafetiere with a plunger filled with a dark brown liquid that I presumed was coffee. There were small wicker baskets with napkins containing French pastries and croissants, a small bowl of slices of fruit, some milk, a metal tray kept warm by candles containing cooked rashers of back bacon and eggs, and something I had never seen on Gor – a silver toast rack containing toast. There was butter and small pots of fruit conserve jam.

“You must be famished,” said the woman. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mistress, please forgive me!” I cried as I performed obeisance before the free woman. There are many forms of obeisance but in this case I knelt with my head pressed down to the floor, palms of my hands down at the sides of my head. I felt sure I would be punished terribly, whipped to within an inch of my life. I had dared to lie on her couch! I didn’t remember doing so, but the evidence was conclusive and indisputable.

“Please get up, Kiera, you are not going to be punished for anything you think you may have done. I only want to offer you breakfast. If you look to your right you will find a lovely dressing gown hanging from a wooden peg. Perhaps you might like to wear it and then join me here in the sunshine on the veranda. I have fresh dark coffee, some brioche, pain au chocolat and truly excellent bacon.”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. In fear still I dared to look up from where I knelt. The scarlet robed mistress made no sign of wanting to whip me. I was astonished. What I had done was a whipping offence at least! I glanced to my right and saw a silken dressing gown, ankle length and patterned in an oriental style. That was for me? Surely not.

“Please, Kiera. Otherwise this delicious breakfast will soon be cold.” The voice seemed warm and friendly.

I rose to my feet feeling unsure of myself. Was I dreaming? I was still on Gor, the décor and dress of the woman made that obvious.

“Mistress?”

“Call me Elizabeth,“ said the woman kindly. “My name is Elizabeth Bentley. Please, try the dressing gown on. You will feel better for it. It's really lovely.”

I swallowed and walked to the peg, taking down the soft beautiful gown. I was astonished to see it had a label sewn on the inside proclaiming it to be from La Perla Maison, Florence, Italy – an Earth garment. The elegant crossover silhouette was trimmed with handcrafted gold fastaglio embroidery to the sleeves with a sash tie at the waist to create a sensual definition. It was possibly the most beautiful luxury dressing gown I had ever seen. I slipped the garment on and marvelled at how good it felt against my skin. I closed the gown and tied it with the waist sash. Aside from the fact that my collar was clearly visible I might otherwise be a free woman looking like this.

“Mistress, I don’t understand.” I raised an arm and felt the wonderful silk of the sleeve slide a little against my skin.

“How do you take your coffee, Kiera?” asked the scarlet woman with a trace of amusement as she saw my reaction to the luxurious feel of the fabric.

“I’m frightened, Mistress. Is this some sort of test? I don't mean to be displeasing.”

I touched the soft fabric of the dressing gown and couldn’t understand why I had been permitted to wear it. The gown was rich, expensive, the sort of thing a free woman might wear. The sort of thing I once wore when I was a free woman on Earth, though never this high end a garment. But now I was scared that someone might see a slave dressed in such a garment and be outraged. I should not be wearing the fine garments of a free woman. I looked about anxiously, fearful that this might all be some kind of cruel joke.

“The only way you will be at all displeasing is if you don’t take the opportunity to enjoy this fine breakfast,” said Elizabeth again with a smile. “There’s no need to be scared. The gown suits you by the way. You look beautiful in it.”

Beautiful. I turned and regarded myself in a wall length mirror. Yes, I did look beautiful. I raised my head to stand there in the way I would have done on Earth in such a gown – slightly haughty, aloof, proud of myself.

I thought I heard something then, something from behind the curtained off deep alcove. Something that sounded almost like an animal moving. But the curtain was motionless. An animal would surely not stand still?

“Mistress, is there...”

“The wind,” said the scarlet woman. “It blows in from the vosk delta. Pay it no heed.”

Slowly, cautiously, still believing I would have the robe ripped from my body at any moment and then perhaps my body would be subjected to the lash in some random cruel joke, I approached the low table set on the sunny veranda. The scarlet woman nodded encouragement to me and so I sank to my knees in tower before the table. From here I could smell the freshly baked pastries, the delicious bacon and the tantalising smell of freshly ground coffee. My stomach rumbled and I realised how ravenous I felt.

“The drugs we gave you have the unfortunate side effect of making you feel hungry when you awaken, so please take whatever you want. Now, how do you take your coffee?”

“Cream… “ I whispered softly, my voice timid and meek. “If that pleases Mistress? And one sugar, if that is permissible.”

“Of course.” She smiled again and to my astonishment began to serve me, pouring some of the coffee into a pretty china cup, adding sugar with a pair of silver tongs and then adding a little cream from a white porcelain jug. “Enjoy,” she said as she placed the cup before me. She, a free woman had served me, a common kajira? I was astonished. This did not happen on Gor.

“May I touch the cup, Mistress?” Normally I had to drink liquids on all fours, lapping at a pan of water like a cat.

“Of course. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, Kiera?” The veranda was situated on the first floor of the building and overlooked the nearby canal. I saw two gondolas sail past with passengers in them. I picked up the cup with trembling hands and allowed myself to breathe in the scent of fresh coffee for the first time since being abducted. As I sipped the coffee I dared to look directly at the mistress and saw that what I had assumed was some sort of shadow on her face was actually a half mask of gold that concealed one side of her features. The other side was visible. It reminded me of the classic Phantom of the Opera mask design, the purpose of which was to hide scars. I wondered if this scarlet woman might have some injury that she wished to conceal?

“You know what I really miss since I’ve been on Gor? Ice cream. A day like this calls for ice cream.” She sighed as she watched me drink the coffee.

“Am I permitted to speak, Mistress?” I should have asked that to begin with of course. I feared I might be switched for the omission.

“You may say whatever you like, whenever you like.”

“Mistress is from Earth?” I said cautiously.

“Yes. I’m English like you. Like you I was abducted and brought to Gor. You see – already we have something in common. Can I interest you in a croissant?” She held the small wicker basket of pastries for me to chose from.

I reached for the pastry and took it with caution, half expecting her to suddenly scream at me for doing so, but no, she simply smiled and withdrew the basket once I had chosen.

“Why is mistress not a slave? I thought women are abducted from Earth for one reason only, and that is to be slaves here.”

“Now that, Kiera, is a very intelligent question. Let’s just say my captors underestimated me, and I turned that to my advantage.”

“I do not understand, Mistress. Why are you being so kind to me?”

“Why not? You are a woman who has been the subject of such cruelty these past months since your abduction, yes? Goreans have brutalised you to the point where if I snapped my fingers and indicated the floor you would drop to a whipping position immediately.”

“Please Mistress, don’t whip me.” I lowered my head in terror. “La kajira, mistress.”

“Kiera, relax, nothing is going to happen to you. Sit up. Take a croissant. Smooth a little jam over it. Try the blueberry. Enjoy your breakfast.”

I did so and the croissant tasted wonderful.

“We share the same sex, Kiera. Like you I seemed fated to wear a collar and chains and to be the plaything of men. Why should I not feel sympathy for you? The cruelties you must have endured these past few months…”

I began to cry. I had eaten half of the croissant and now I began to cry.

“Take your time,” said Elizabeth kindly. “Take as much time as you need.”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and nodded. “Where am I, Mistress?”

“Kiera, if you want to please me then call me Elizabeth instead of mistress. That will please me. Can you do that?”

“Elizabeth…” I couldn’t help flinching as I said that, so conditioned was I to the thought of being lashed for addressing a free woman by her name.

“Good.” She reached out and touched my hand with hers. “We are women, you and I. We look out for one another on this barbaric patriarchal planet. Men have locked a collar around your throat. You cannot remove it, can you?”

“No,” I picked up the croissant again and nibbled at it. It was delicious.

“Do you think it right that a man can do that to you? That he can collar you? Brand you? Chain you? Whip you?”

“I… I’m afraid to say, Mistress…” I flinched, knowing I was suppose to call her Elizabeth. I had been ordered to call her Elizabeth and I had accidentally slipped back to the more familiar form of address.

“I’m rushing you, aren’t I, Kiera. This is difficult for you. I'm sorry. Call me Mistress then for now, But when you feel ready, use my name. To answer your question you are still in Port Kar. This view overlooks the northern canals and waterways. The home of your mistress is in that direction.” She pointed to my left. “We drugged you last night. I have a confession to make. The slave girl you know as Arianna, she is not actually a slave girl.”

I looked at her in astonishment.

“I don’t understand, Mistress, she wears a collar, she has a brand…”

“Did you ever see the brand?” asked Elizabeth.

“Well, no, no I didn’t, but she must have a brand.”

“Must she?”

“She is a slave, she wears a collar. She wears a slave tunic.”

“All told an excellent disguise, do you not think? It enabled her to befriend you without attracting attention or suspicion. People would have considered it suspicious if a free woman had done so after all.”

I reeled at the thought of this revelation. Arianna was in fact a free woman masquerading as a slave? But why?

“I’m afraid she led you to us, Kiera. I apologise for that, but we had to assume we couldn’t approach you any other way.”

I began to understand now. This scarlet woman, this Elizabeth Bentley, she had to be involved in the conspiracy that my mistress and Brinn were investigating. This was uncharted territory for me and I grew nervous once again. They, whoever they were, had put a lot of time and effort to bring me to this place. That worried me.

“I am just a slave, Mistress,” I said softly.

“Do you know who your mistress is, Kiera?”

“A merchant lady of Corcyrus, Mistress.”

“She is that, yes, but she is also a spy. An agent working for a man called Samos who in turn works for alien creatures responsible directly for the enforcement of technology laws that serve two functions. Firstly to keep the population subservient through their inability to develop science that may one day threaten these invisible alien masters and secondly to create a society in which women have no way of resisting the tyranny of men. You and I are women, Kiera. We are subjugated on this planet. You know this. Your mistress serves the very dark forces that keep Gor the way it is. They are the true enemy of our sex. Millions of women live in a perpetual state of bondage, either explicitly or implied. Look at the way I am dressed. I cannot even expose my wrists or ankles in public. If I were to dress in any other fashion I would be subject to the cruelties of men and of other women who have been indoctrinated to support the very forces that oppress them.” The scarlet woman leaned back slightly where she knelt. “I say this has gone on for far too long. I say there has to be another way. I offer you a life without that collar.”

“You… you would free me, Mistress?”

Elizabeth smiled. “I would fee you, my dear sister. I would see that hateful collar gone from your throat. I would see to it that you never feel the chains of men on those slim wrists ever again. What do you say to that?”

“I… I must be dreaming…” My face broke out into a relieved smile. “This is over? This is really over? I can go back to Earth, to my old life…”

“No.” Elizabeth shook her head sadly. “There are some things I cannot do. I have no way of returning you to Earth. I do not have a ship at my disposal. I have no way of crossing the gulf of space. But I can free you and give you a life on Gor as a privileged free woman. You would have gowns and robes and a house that offered sanctuary and the money by which you could live the life you chose. None of that would be perfect – you would be subject to the same restrictions that all free women are under, but you would no longer be the property of a man or woman. You would be free, Kiera. Free.”

I was overcome with emotion. “Elizabeth, thank you, thank you!”

“Some more coffee, Kiera? asked the scarlet woman.

“Yes, thank you.” I felt more relaxed now. I was going to be free! I was going to wear the flowing robes of concealment. I would perhaps never return to Earth but I would live out my life on Gor as a free woman. And it occurred to me that thanks to the stabilisation serums I had been given I would live that life permanently young, never losing my looks or my health. The women of Earth would pay a fortune for such a thing. It was priceless. I touched the soft fabric of the dressing gown again and smiled to myself.

My ordeal was over. I would leave this room a free woman.

Once again I thought I heard movement from behind the closed curtain, almost like the shuffling of a beast, but when I glanced back the curtain was still.

Fresh coffee had been poured for me. I lifted it to my lips and savoured the flavour once more. God, I had missed the taste of coffee. I had missed so many things living as I did now on slave gruel and water with only the occasional treat if my mistress felt I deserved one and she was in one of her rare good moods. Now I could have anything I wanted. I would be independently wealthy with my own fine home. I would frequent the market and buy the finest delicacies, visit the fashionable cafes and attend polite social parties.

The scarlet woman reached below the table to produce a small steel key that she then placed on the table beside the cafetiere. She regarded me as the key lay there. “While you slept your drugged sleep I took the liberty of asking a locksmith to examine the lock on your collar. This key here fits it precisely.”

My heart seemed to skip a beat as I stared at the key that would free me from the slave collar. I only had to reach out and claim it.

“Thank you. I am forever grateful.” I reached for the key and with trembling hands picked it up.

The scarlet woman smiled at me.

I raised the key and slowly rotated the cruel steel of my collar until the slave ring was now at the back of my neck and the locking mechanism was at the front.

The scarlet woman continued to smile in a friendly fashion.

I placed the slim key with some fumbling into the lock mechanism and was about to turn it when I heard her say in a firm voice, “no.”

I froze. My slave responses made me stop the moment I heard that word.

“Put the key down, Kiera. Please.” She motioned to the table. I swallowed and did as she said. She was a free woman. She was a mistress.

“Have I done something wrong, mistress?” I asked.

“It is with a heavy heart that I am going to have to ask you to wear that collar a little while longer, Kiera. Forgive me, but the time is not yet right for you to leave your current life.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We are going to be friends, you and I. But I need to ask something of you first. Something that will earn you your freedom and a new life. You want to help me, don’t you, Kiera? You want to help your new friends?”

I nodded as I gazed at the key.

“This man Brinn that you know is dangerous. He would see me enslaved or killed if he had the chance. He wishes to keep women like us in collars. He is our enemy. I need your help in order to lure him into a trap and capture him. You are in a position to help me do that. You can feed me information pertaining to the movements of both Brinn and your mistress. With that information I can arrange the rest. And for this you will be given your freedom. I promise you that key in return for your help. A new life, Kiera. No more chains or whips. No more fear.”

I was to be a traitor, a spy, an agent of theirs? I was suddenly very afraid. I knew what a man like Brinn would do if he even suspected I was working against him.

“I'm just a slave, Mistress,” I said in despair. “I don’t know how to…”

“You will not do this alone. The Lady Arianna will continue to pose as a slave, as your friend when you run errands and she will meet with you regularly with help and advice. I have faith in you, Kiera. You can do this.”

“What will happen to Brinn?” I asked.

“Oh, we have questions for him, questions pertaining to the disposition of the forces at Samos’s command. Provide he co-operates he will receive nothing worse than some whip marks on his back. Nothing worse than you have suffered.” Elizabeth recognised something in my expression now I think for she smiled and added an additional temptation. “And afterwards, afterwards when you are free and resplendent in fine robes like mine, then we shall give you this Brinn. You can keep him as your chained silk slave. Imagine summoning him in the evenings, having him brought to your soft couch where he is chained to await your pleasure. Imagine having this man helpless before you as your play thing. Imagine late in the evening casting aside your goblet of expensive wine and stroking his body, climbing astride him, feeling those muscles helpless in their close fitting restraints. Imagine taking him, forcing him against his will to give you pleasure. All this you will have too. So, are you with us, Kiera? Will you do this small thing for us in exchange for your freedom? Imagine the life you can have.”

I thought of Brinn chained helpless to my couch. I imagined lying there in rich silken gowns playing with him as I saw fit. I imagine mounting him and looking down at his straining body, saying to him, “I am going to use you now, Brinn of the Sardar. You will serve a lady's pleasure like the silk slave you are.” I imagined how I might satisfy my desires and then leave him there to subside in his chains. I would offer him a mocking smile and say, “pretty little silk slave' as I re-arranged my hair. I would feed him perhaps by hand, making him wait for each morsel of food.

“Kiera?” Asked the scarlet woman sweetly. “Can I count on you?”

“You can count on me, Elizabeth,” I said with a smile. “I shall deliver Brinn of the Sardar to you.”

The end of Kiera of Gor, but the Port Kar adventures of Kiera, Brinn and of course the lovely and resourceful Lady Marissa of Corcyrus will conclude in a new book, Silver Masks of Gor, coming soon to your favourite Gorean fan fiction site.