Lady Marissa's Problem
(a
stand alone Gorean short story featuring a new character from the
upcoming 'Shadows of Gor' novel)
It was intolerable of
course, the way Lady Marissa's favourite Guardsman, Darius, was
doting over his new slave-girl, Sasira. Like many Free Women, Marissa
did not particularly like slaves. Obviously she understood that they
were a useful part of Gorean society, and certainly she couldn’t
imagine a world without them, but nevertheless there was something
about the scantily clad girls that annoyed her. Darius had saved for
many months to purchase a blonde barbarian girl from the pens of
Attius, one of the more respectable slavers in the city of Corcyrus.
The word 'respectable' had limited meaning of course when conferred
upon the caste of slavers, but in this case it meant that Attius
didn’t obviously assess Free Women as if they might be
potential merchandise every time he met one. In contrast to some
other slavers who would be noting down a woman's likely block price
within minutes of meeting her, Attius was always polite and
respectful to women such as Marissa – according them the same
dignity as male customers. This pleased Marissa, because on the whole
she didn’t trust or like slavers – an understandable opinion, and
a sensible one. Even the kindest, most deferential slaver was really
akin to a sleen on a leash. Marissa was intelligent enough to
recognise that a slaver who was polite and respectful within the
confines of a city might act very differently if encountered on the
road if his guards outnumbered one’s own.
Not that travelling on the
road was a problem for Marissa any more, now that she had the
services of a number of professional Guardsmen whenever she travelled
on official business for the Priest Kings. And because she wasn’t
stupid, all her business was now classed as official business for the
Priest Kings.
Unlike Marissa’s other
guard, Lysander, Darius had been keen to buy a slave ever since he
had entered Corcyrus in her employ. Week by week he saved his money –
whatever money was left over from his frequent trips to the local
tavern that is – until in the end he had enough to make a
reasonable offer to Attius. There was currently a glut of barbarians
on the market. Shipments from Earth had been on the increase
throughout the year, and wagon loads of wide eyed, disbelieving girls
in strange looking clothes were now a frequent sight on the auction
blocks. Darius was therefore able to bargain Attius down by 20% of
his asking price for the girl who had once been called Jill Clifton
of the city of Cambridge.
Darius and Lysander
enjoyed free lodging and board in the back rooms of Marissa’s town
house located on the Street of Olni. Marissa herself maintained a
large en-suite bedchamber on the first floor that opened out onto a
balcony that in turn overlooked a medium size walled garden at the
back. A private set of stairs led down to a formal reception room on
the ground floor, which she could use to entertain polite guests.
The day that Darius
returned with the blonde barbarian on a leash was the day that
Marissa instinctively knew she had made a mistake in agreeing
permission for the man to buy her. At first it wasn’t too bad. The
girl was new to Gor, frightened and unable to comprehend what had
happened to her. But as the weeks rolled by Darius taught her things
in the privacy of his room – things that Marissa preferred not to
think about – things that transformed the girl into a happy,
vibrant slave, eager to learn and serve her new Master. Within two
weeks she was making doe eyes at him whenever he gave her any
attention. In the morning she would kneel, kiss and lick his feet and
tie his sandals. She would serve him drinks with a touch of her lips
on the rim of the cup. She would move in ways that were designed to
remind him that her body was his to use. Her eyes would beg him for
slave rape. All in all, it was turning out to be an incredibly
irritating performance, and Marissa was beginning to speculate on
whether it would be bad form to hire a slaver to steal the girl and
sell her in the Tahari.
Marissa had refused
permission for the girl to be dressed in silk. Instead a number of
coarsely woven tunics had been purchased – more suitable for a
kettle slave. The hemline fell to an inch or two above the knees,
which was quite modest for a kajira. The tunic had short sleeves that
almost touched the elbows, and a curved neckline that permitted no
glimpse of her breasts. Even so, her lower legs and forearms were
well displayed, and drove Darius to distraction on more than one
occasion. Various tradesmen complimented Darius on his purchase, and
suggested in a plain manner that they would be interested in trying
her out for a fee. Darius had so far agreed on two occasions, much to
the horror and dismay of the girl, and had pocketed 5 copper tarsks
in the process.
At night Sasira would be
chained to Darius’s bed where he would use her until the early
hours of the morning. Marissa’s rooms were far enough away that she
would not be disturbed, but it meant she didn’t care to venture
downstairs to the ground floor after the energy bulbs were
extinguished for fear of overhearing sounds of a slave in the throes
of orgasm.
It didn't take long for
the Lady Marissa to loathe the presence of Sasira. Her duties were
reasonably light, and so she had plenty of time to sit in the garden
outside or kneel beside Darius. She seemed to be everywhere. And she
seemed so happy – so content. In the morning, when Marissa still
felt sluggish from the glass or two of ka-la-na she had imbibed the
night before, Sasira would greet the day with the energy and vitality
of a girl who had enjoyed delicious orgasms throughout the night.
Which of course she probably had. She skipped around the house, flush
with good health while the Lady Marissa nursed a minor hangover. Her
presence in the house would have been easier for Marissa to bear if
the girl had been miserable. But if anything she seemed happier than
Marissa, who now struggled with mounting piles of paperwork,
administering not only her own business, but also her secret work for
the Priest Kings of Gor. Both streams of work were of course making
her very rich. One did not get to work for the Priest Kings without
finding ways to enrich oneself in the process, but sometimes her
working day was over twelve hours long.
She had taken advice from
Brinn of the Sardar one night after they had discussed their upcoming
work in Port Kar, and Brinn had poured an exceptionally fine ka-la-na
that they might share. He had at first seemed amused by her numerous
complaints relating to the luscious barbarian, but then suggested
that Marissa should not appear confrontational over the issue of the
girl, but should instead explain that the girl should be confined to
the private room in which Darius slept. The Guardsman had to
understand how sensitive Free Women were on the matter of slaves. It
was distasteful to constantly see the girl about the house. Even
modestly dressed (for a kajira) the girl was overwhelmingly desirable
to men. Darius had never owned a slave before, and so this was new to
him. Although typically Gorean in his dealings with the girl, he was
very much taken by her, and relished having her in his sight. When
the two were together there was a current in the air – a palpable
tension as if at any moment he might throw the girl to the floor,
strip her bare and take her. Marissa began to feel she was intruding
in her own house.
In a sense Marissa
understood that the girl was probably pleased with the man who had
bought her. Marissa recognised that by all accounts Darius was
probably considered handsome. Certainly he had broad shoulders,
strong arms, thickly muscled legs and a clean healthy face unmarked
by disease or scars. Yes, he was handsome, she considered from time
to time. A slave might well enjoy being seized by him. Marissa of
course had no interest in such things, she told herself – she was a
Free Woman - her observation was simply that – an observation –
in much the same way that she understood that grass was green. It was
a matter of obvious fact that Darius was handsome, and strong, and
powerful. It wasn’t something that Marissa thought about much. Only
occasionally, like when he practised sword play in the garden, while
Sasira knelt on the grass nearby. As it happened Marissa occasionally
took a break from her work on the balcony overlooking the garden, and
more often than not such breaks coincided with the times Darius
worked up a sweat during his extensive training sessions. In his
short tunic, with his long hair tied back by a leather thong,
Darius’s muscles seemed taut and bronzed - gleaming with fresh
sweat as he hacked and parried, thrust and cut at imaginary targets.
Once Darius paused to
allow Sasira to mop his brow with a wad of rep cloth, and as she did
he happened to glance up and see Marissa standing on the balcony,
looking down. He smiled and raised his sword high as he called out a
greeting to his elegant employer. Marissa withdrew back into her room
without saying a word, angry that he had seen her; angry that he
might have thought she was watching him, when of course she wasn’t
(why would she want to watch him? She was a busy woman – she was
only taking a short break after all); angry that Sasira had been
there with her long blonde hair and her stupid barbarian accent and
her basic grasp of Gorean that made her even more stupid.
So Marissa decided to
address the problem of the kajira, Sasira sooner rather than later.
Darius would be ordered to observe strict rules regarding the girl’s
presence in the house. The only alternative would be for him to seek
accommodation elsewhere. Of course Marissa didn’t want to actually
lose Darius to a different part of the city. It was convenient that
he lived in her building. For purely practical reasons. of course, it
made sense that he should live there. Marissa preferred him to live
there. She wanted him to live there. Brinn had advised Marissa on
this matter too, suggesting that Marissa should sweeten the
discussion by first reassuring the man that she valued him, and did
not want to lose him. No man likes to be pushed, especially not by a
woman. Marissa would make it clear that she valued his work. He in
turn would accept her reasonable criticisms of the girl and indeed
his unsatisfactory handling of her. A compromise would be agreed, and
the girl would remain out of sight and out of mind. Marissa would be
able to speak to Darius in future without fear of the girl hovering
close to his ankles, pouting at him with her slave lips.
Darius was due to arrive
in just a few minutes. He had been told this morning that his
employer wished to speak to him on an important matter. That was
good. It gave the meeting a sense of gravitas. He would arrive
knowing that the matter under discussion would be formal and serious.
He would be apprehensive perhaps, fearing that maybe his work had
failed to meet certain exacting standards. Perhaps criticism would be
offered. So when Marissa praised his conduct, and told him how much
she valued his service he would seem relieved. And then Marissa could
take advantage of that and turn to the matter of the girl, and by
then Darius would be only too happy to concede to whatever
arrangements Marissa had in mind. Maybe he would even whip the girl
for displeasing Marissa. That would be a bonus.
It was a clever plan,
designed to overcome the fragile male ego. Marissa congratulated
herself on her intuition and diplomacy. It wasn’t truly difficult
to deal with men, provided one understood them as she did. They might
be stronger and tougher, but she was far cleverer. Did she not for
example now have many male merchants courting her good will in the
hope of receiving preferential treatment from her thriving business?
She was getting used to being flattered and praised by men keen to
advance themselves within the caste, for it was widely known now that
Marissa enjoyed the good will of several important people within
Corcyrus. Why only yesterday Marissa had turned down the application
for three new mercantile licences by Ressius the wool merchant
because she had been disappointed by the poor quality of ka-la-na
served at his last party. Ressius would no doubt do much better next
time if he had any sense. Already he had sent an apologetic gift of
twelve expensive bottles after hearing third party rumours that
Marissa had been displeased.
With just a few minutes to
go, Marissa checked her appearance in a wall mirror. She had decided
to wear her hair long and unbound this afternoon, for comfort and
obviously not because it looked pretty. After all she had no need to
leave the house on business, and since it took over half an hour to
arrange her hair up, it was easier to leave it down. She toyed with
some of the locks of hair, moulding them with her fingers in a design
that looked pleasing. A few strokes of her hair brush added texture
and depth to the hair. She continued to brush the hair for several
minutes until it was glossy and vibrant and tangle free. It occurred
to her that her hair was almost as long as Sasira’s, but far
lovelier.
A few cosmetics from Ar
were arranged on her dressing table. They had been purchased from an
expensive store in the market place that catered exclusively for Free
Women. The cosmetics were subtle and elegant, not at all like the
sensual and vulgar cosmetics available for slaves at a fraction of
the price. Pursing her lips, Marissa decided on impulse to add a
touch of foundation cream and eye-liner before the meeting – just a
small amount to accentuate her natural beauty. Perhaps a hint of
perfume too… a subtle scent that, like the cosmetics, was designed
exclusively for Free Women. She dabbed a spot of the scent behind
each ear and on the wrists and breathed deeply. Catonius did produce
very fine cosmetics and perfumes. The man was a genius, even if he
was a little rude at times to his elegantly attired customers.
Certainly his prices were very high, which added a certain
exclusivity to his products.
After a few more checks of
her appearance and some more work on her hair, Marissa arranged
herself behind her desk, pretending to be reading and working on
various documents when Darius arrived. Such a sight would remind
Darius how important she now was within the city. He would be
nervous, apprehensive, and he would see a powerful woman who had
summoned him to her office. He would no doubt be eager to agree to
whatever she said.
There was a short knock on
the door.
“One moment!” cried
Marissa as she rose from her chair to quickly check her appearance
once more. She licked her lips to moisten them and worked some stray
locks of her hair with a long toothed comb. She turned her head each
way to view herself in profile and then, satisfied that she looked
pretty, quickly returned to her desk and sat in such a way that she
could look up slowly to meet his gaze when Darius entered the room.
“Enter.”
Darius walked into the
room dressed in a short practice tunic and sandals. It was obviously
his intention to work out in the garden after the meeting. Marissa
slowly glanced up as if she had all but forgotten the arranged
meeting, glancing no longer than was really necessary at his strong
arms and legs – at their oiled, bronze sheen. Yes, she supposed,
slaves might well find him attractive. She wasn't sure of course,
because she was a Free Woman, but she supposed that would be the
case. “Oh yes, Darius,” she said as she pretended to consider
what he was doing here.
“You wanted to see me,
Lady.”
“Yes… yes… so I
did.” With a languid gesture Marissa lowered her pencil and pushed
away a sheaf of papers. “Please sit down.” She motioned with her
hand to the chair opposite her desk.
“I’m glad you asked to
see me, Lady, as I was about to ask for an appointment anyway.”
“You were?” Marissa
regarded him with surprise. “What about?”
“It is with regret that
I will be leaving your employment at the end of the week.”
“What?” Marissa was
dumbstruck. “But why? if it concerns money...”
“No.” he held up the
palm of his hand to indicate he hadn't finished. “I have given the
matter much thought and I think it is the only course of action left
honourably open to me. I have made enquiries and a merchant by the
name of Catonius is keen to hire me. He has offered similar terms to
yourself. The nature of my current situation compels me to seek
employment with a man instead of a woman. Believe me that I would not
have left for any other reason.”
“Wait! What reason? You
haven’t said why you’re leaving. Darius – you’ve been with me
since the very start! What is going on?”
“Lady, it has occurred
to me that through my own stupidity I have placed you in a
dishonourable position. When I bought Sasira I failed to take into
account the delicate sensitivity of a free woman to the presence of a
sensual girl such as Sasira. I can only admire and appreciate the
restraint you must have shown these past few weeks to seeing her
around the house. It must be very distasteful for you to have to
endure the presence of a girl who is so overtly sexual as Sasira. I
can only offer you my sincere apologies and my assurance that I will
always think highly of you while I work in the employ of Catonius.”
“This is about Sasira?”
Marissa had not expected anything like this. Her rehearsed speech was
suddenly forgotten as she realised one of her two trusted men was
about to leave.
Darius nodded. “It would
be better for me to work for a man now that I own the girl. Her
presence will not cause offence to Catonius the way it must cause
offence to you.”
“She’s really not that
bad,” said Marissa quickly, as the sudden shock of losing Darius
muddled her thoughts.
“You are kind to say so,
Lady, which is one more reason why I so regret leaving your service.
Believe me if there was any way…”
“No, honestly – she’s
a delightful girl. You did very well buying her. Obviously there are
a few niggling issues, but…”
“So we will be gone in
just three days time. In the meantime I will…”
“Wait!” Marissa held
up her hand. “I think you over-estimate the effect of having a red
silk girl in the house. That’s no reason to go. Please stay! Darius
– I don't want some stranger guarding me.”
“But surely you do not
want Sasira in your house? A girl like her – so feminine – so
sexual – so desiring a Master’s touch – her body burning to be
taken at any time of the day or night…”
“I’m sure she has many
fine qualities,” said Marissa quickly. “And she’s often useful
around the house.”
“And yet, dressed as she
is… the shortness of her skirt… her long supple legs… the soft
curves of her body… her beautiful lips, so easy to ravish… to
crush in a Master's kiss...”
“Darius, please
reconsider. I’d hate to lose you to Catonius. There’s room for
both of you here. I’m a broad-minded Free Woman. Why, I hardly
notice the girl!”
“Really?” Darius
looked puzzled. “You don’t object to her open sexuality?”
“Is she sexual? I can’t
say I’ve really noticed.”
“The way her eyes beg me
to take her and force myself upon her, morning, noon and night?”
“Really, Darius, I
think you’re noticing things that no one else notices…”
“The way her body
trembles to my slightest touch, or the touch of any man come to
that?”
“She might just be cold
– there’s a draft occasionally through the back door.”
“I am surprised Lady. I
thought perhaps the sight of Sasira might trouble you. If that is not
the case…” Darius considered the matter carefully for a moment,
apparently torn between decisions. “If it is really not a problem…”
he scrutinised Marissa's expression carefully, looking intently for
any sign of doubt on her part.
“Have I ever said it
is?”
“I suppose I could
reconsider leaving…” Darius scratched his chin. “I have been
with you since the very beginning after all.”
“Yes, yes you have. And
a more loyal guard I couldn’t possibly ask for.”
“But if I thought Sasira
was troubling you in any way, I’d feel honour bound to leave…”
Marissa clenched her
fingers into small balled fists underneath her desk. “A sweet girl
like Sasira? Surely not. Banish such thoughts from your mind
immediately!”
“Then I am happy to
remain in your employ, Lady. I should perhaps mention that as I
thought I was leaving, I took the liberty of shortening Sasira’s
skirt by four inches…”
“What’s four inches
here or there,” said Marissa with a strained smile.
“And cut off the short
sleeves on her work tunic. The weather is quite warm after all.”
“Indeed it is…”
Marissa’s fists grew tighter.
“The plunging v-neck
incision in the front of her tunic that I made with a knife is hardly
worth mentioning.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t
even have noticed if you hadn’t told me…”
“Lady, I can see why you
are so respected and admired within the city. You have my gratitude.
I think that Sasira will be overjoyed that we will be staying.”
“How wonderful… for
her…”
Darius rose to leave. “If
I may, your hair...”
“My hair?” Marissa
looked startled at the sudden change of topic. She touched it with
her right hand. Was something wrong with it?
“It looks good worn
loose like that. You should wear it like that more often.”
“Oh!” Marissa secretly
smiled. “That's... that's very kind of you to say so... I really
haven't done anything with it... been so busy... haven't even had
time to brush it...”
“Really? It looks glossy
and healthy and very pretty.”
“I had no idea. Why,
thank you.” Marissa beamed at her guard.
“If you would, perhaps,
stand up...” Darius motioned with his hand politely. Marissa sprang
to her feet and stood there feeling very proud of her hair as Darius
walked round the back of her desk to inspect her.
“Yes, Lady, very pretty
hair. Such a shame you always wear it pinned up.”
“Well, when one is out
on business, or attending formal receptions...”
“I understand, Lady. But
at home?”
“Well... I suppose
that's different. There's only you and Lysander about, and you've
both known me for a few years now.”
“Indeed we have. Indeed
we have.” He stood behind Marissa where she couldn't see him, but
could feel his presence.
“So...” she began.
“So...” replied
Darius.
“I imagine you will be
practising with the sword soon?”
“Yes, Lady, though it is
a very hot afternoon. I am already regretting the tunic. I will
probably remove it and train in just a breech cloth. Afterwards
Sasira will massage palm oil into my muscles so that my body cools
down.
“Oh.” Unseen,
Marissa's face blushed a little.
“But you called me here
to speak to me? There is something you wanted to say?”
“Just... just that I'm
very pleased with your performance since we came to Corcyrus.”
“That is all?”
“Yes, I just thought...
I just thought I should let you know.”
“Thank you. Feedback on
my work is always welcome. You may sit down now, Lady.”
Marissa quickly gathered
her skirts and sat down as Darius made to leave.
“It was a pleasure
speaking to you, Lady.” And with that, and a satisfied smile on his lips, he
left.
The 'Chamber Slave'
picture is copyright Necrella who posts Gor inspired art here:
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