KIera of Gor (5)

5: I have feelings that shame me

“Your friend dances quite well,” said Eleanor as she gazed out through the wooden bars of the cage in which we sat. “Better than the previous two girls. The men seem to approve anyway. I do not think she will be whipped.”

“I suppose.” I watched as Sophia danced barefoot in the centre of a ring of seated villagers. They sat cross legged as a group and watched the girl moving in time to the simple music that consisted of flutes and drums. Sophia had seen the less than adequate performances by Julie and Kim before it had then been her turn. She had seen the first of the red silk girls, Julie, thrust forward into the centre of the circle; she saw her cry and demonstrate that she didn’t know how to dance. The men had not been pleased and when she had then simply dropped to her knees and began crying, one of the men had risen, reached for a whip and whipped her where she knelt. After the fourth blow from the whip Julie had begged to dance, but the whipping continued until after a further eight strokes of the lash she lay there screaming in pain. We all watched as she crawled helplessly to the man’s feet and began to kiss them, begging for an end to her punishment, crying out that she would dance for them. But hands simply picked her up and took her away into the darkness. We were all very frightened for her fate, not knowing whether she would live or not. Sadric had told us all that if a girl was displeasing the peasants might simply cut her throat.

Kim had then been thrust forward and, having seen the fate of Julie, Kim had tried to dance, but she had done so half heartedly at first, simply offering the men some routine she might use in a night club. When the whip had cracked around her feet she had burst into tears and had tried to dance more sensually, but still she held back.

She was a fool. Did she think the men would permit such passive resistance from her?

“At least she has something to wear now,” said Eleanor. She was being ironic of course for what Sophia wore was worse than being naked. Her clothing, for want of a better word, consisted of a length of string tied about her belly. From this string fluttered a few pieces of silk, such that they moved and swirled about her body as she danced. She danced in a fashion designed to entertain men, to make them desire her. She had little choice I suppose, having seen how Julie and Kim had been treated, but even so she did not need to be quite so lewd. To begin with her dance had been teasing and erotic but now she was degrading herself, dancing before whichever peasant gestured her over, squirming and responding to the touch of their hands as they made her dance around the inner circle where they might in turn reach out and fondle her. And as the men touched and groped her, she did not cry out or jump back, rather she co-operated in the way they touched her. She was complicit in their disgusting and offensive approaches.

And now I saw Sophia writhing in the arms of one of the peasants who had pulled her close by the wrist and on to his lap. Look at the way she moved!

“Slut!” I suddenly hissed between my teeth as I gripped the slim wooden bars. “Slut!” I said it louder, directed at my friend, though she could not hear me so far away, over the steady beat of the village drums.

“She is dancing for her life,” said Eleanor, surprised at my outburst. “Do not hate her for it.”

“She is doing more than that!” I said in disgust. “Look at the way she is kissing him now!” I fumed.

“You saw what they did to the other two girls. Would you refuse to perform for the men?” Eleanor looked at me.

“I have more pride than Sophia does! Yes I would dance,” I said angrily. “Of course I would dance. I do not wish to be whipped the way Julie was whipped. But I would not offer myself to the touch of a man like that. That is beyond the pale! Look at her – she writhes in his lap, licking and kissing him like a slut! Disgusting!” I seized the wooden bars again and shook them in fury. Behind me I heard the murmuring of the other white silk girls who shared our cramped cage. They it seemed agreed with me.

“I say Michelle is right,” said Anna. “No one forced Sophia to do what she is doing now. She is encouraging the men!”

“It is true,” said Sally Peterson. The girls joined me at the bars at the front of the cage. “She was frightened to begin with. We could excuse that. But now? Now she is revelling in the attention. She is not like us.”

I nodded, and even Eleanor fell silent as we saw what Sophia did next. Sliding from the man’s lap, she lay now on her belly before him, lifting away his tunic and placing her lips over the thick, stiff penis that she uncovered.

“I can’t watch,” I said as I continued to watch though, my eyes wide with dismay. Sophia went down on him with her mouth to the affirmative sounds of encouragement from the other men. I had never seen such a thing before, for I had no interest in the sort of pornography that depicted such acts. Yes, I had from time to time read erotica, erotica written specifically for women, erotica which did indeed include certain aspects of bondage, submission, and so forth, but I would always be dismayed at passages which described such actions. It angered me to think that a man might expect a woman to pleasure him like that. Sometimes I then went back to the passages out of curiosity, to remind myself how degrading they were. Who did they think we were? I was a virgin, but I knew that when the time came and when a man had earned the pleasure of my company, my intimate company, when he had proven himself to be worthy of me, even then I would not perform such a debased service to him. I was Michelle Frost! Michelle Frost did not kneel and indulge in oral intercourse with her mouth. Let a man find a slut if he wished that. I was not a slut.

“Let us not judge her too harshly,” said Eleanor after some thought. “The circumstances are ones that we ourselves have not experienced.”

“Perhaps you would perform like Sophia too?” I said with a look of scorn at Eleanor. “Is that why you try to excuse her behaviour? Do you imagine yourself there on the grass, acting like a slut?” I sneered, to the amusement of the other girls in the cage.

“Don’t be so stupid,” said Eleanor. “I meant nothing of the sort.”

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We were all simmering with anger at the red silk girls now. I had protested in no uncertain terms to Sadric, much to his amusement.

“It is not fair!”

“Much in life is not fair, Michelle,” he had said as he continued to feed Sophia, Julia and Kim pieces of freshly cut and cooked meat. They knelt before him, taking each piece of meat with their teeth as it was offered. We on the other hand, the five chaste white silk girls, continued to feed on slave gruel. Was it my imagination, or was the slave gruel even more bitter tasting, more lumpy than it had been before? This might have something to do with the fact that the red silk girls had prepared it for us.

I hated them now! They had been given garments to wear! All three of them now had lengths of red cloth that they were permitted to wind about their loins and fasten at their hips. They were given lengths of binding fibre which could be used as a belt, wound about their waists to hold the cloth in place. The girls were instructed to tie a slip knot so that the garment could be undone swiftly if necessary, but still, it was a garment. Oh, and how smug the red silk girls looked now they had covering over their hips. They sat apart from us, smiling and laughing together, even though they were in the minority and they had shamed themselves so abjectly last night. And now they were being given freshly cooked meat – the same meat that the men ate! My mouth was watering at the smell of the food. My stomach rumbled as I gazed at the sickening sludge on a broad leaf that I had been given.

“I want meat!” I said to Sadric. He simply shook his head.

“Only red silk girls are given meat. Have no fear, Michelle, your gruel is perfectly nutritious and in fact more healthy for you than the steak.”

“I hate you!” I cried as I almost threw the lumpy gruel into the bushes. I didn’t do so of course for I knew such an act of rebellion would be swiftly punished.

“Eat your gruel, Michelle,” said Sadric kindly but sternly.

I began to eat the gruel with my fingers, spooning it into my mouth.

“Say, Michelle is eating her gruel as commanded.”

“Michelle is eating her gruel as commanded,” I said without looking at him.

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“I think it is time to impose some new disciplines amongst you.,” said Sadric as he gazed down at us. As was becoming the norm now, we knelt in two very distinct groups. My group consisted of me and the four other white silk girls who had been clearly classified as virgins back in the village. We held ourselves proudly with disdain for the other group which consisted of Sophia, Julia and Kim – they being the red silk girls who had been classified as being sexually promiscuous on Earth. Strangely, they too seemed rather proud of their status. Unlike us they wore the red cloth about their loins – a single piece of clothing permitted to them that was not made available to us.

“The additional disciplines will help you ease yourselves into your new role as slaves,” added Sadric. Slaves? He honestly thought that Michelle Frost of England, Earth, would remain a slave on this backward, barbaric world? I clenched my fingers in frustration as I knelt there. Of course I wouldn’t remain a slave. As soon as I reached some place of civilisation I would make my plight well known to the authorities. These men would ultimately rue the day they stripped me naked and placed me in chains.

“From this moment onwards the white silk girls will be subject to the discipline of the red silk girls,” explained Sadric.

As you might expect there was considerable disquiet on the part of the girls in my group. We protested quite vigorously, expressing our opinion that this was hardly fair. Why should the red silk girls have rights over us? They were not men. They were no better than us, in fact we were obviously better than them, for we were of higher value due to our confirmed virginity.

Sadric put an end to our protests with a sweep of his hand that we understood only too well might be a prelude to the unravelling of his whip if we should continue.

“The red silk girls are mature women. It is right that they should take precedence in this coffle. This is how it will be from now on. Sophia and Kim and Julia now have the right to issue orders provided they do not contradict those of Leofric or myself. They are also entitled to administer discipline as might be required.” To this end he handed each of the three girls a switch – a slim tapering stick much like bamboo, but with greater elasticity and suppleness. We watched as the three girls swished the implements through the air experimentally and with barely disguised glee. “You are probably wondering if those implements will hurt you?” suggested Sadric. “The answer to that unspoken question in your mind is yes, it will.”

I shivered, but I did not dare to protest further.

It was a warm evening, for this part of Gor shares a climate similar to the southern Mediterranean. I lay in the bed of straw feeling frustrated and aroused for reasons I couldn’t comprehend. Why did I feel this way? The feeling had come over me towards the end of the evening when I had been watching Sophia with a mixture of shock and dismay at the way she had been behaving. Even then I had felt some stirrings deep inside me but I was quick to repress them in my confusion and embarrassment. But now as I lay in the semi darkness and quiet of the barn where we all slept for the night, the feelings began to return. I kept thinking of what I had witnessed – the submission of the red silk girls before men, how Sophia in her bondage and heightened state of arousal had been passed between the senior men of the village, to serve them in all manner of shocking ways. And the little slut had enjoyed it! I gripped fistfuls of straw and rolled onto my side, finding it so difficult to sleep. There was a fire burning deep inside me. I kept thinking of Sophia in her dancing silks, swaying from man to man, feeling their hands on her body. Try as I might I couldn’t banish the thoughts from my mind, nor could I repress the burning sensation deep inside my loins. I hardly dared move of course for I was chained to both Sophia and Eleanor for the night. A secure shackle was locked about my left ankle, and two chains radiating from it extended to either side to similar anklets locked on the other girls. The chains were quite short and if I moved my leg too far one of the other girls would feel the movement.

Elsewhere in the barn my sisters in bondage were similarly secured in small coffles of two to three girls. In the stillness of the night I heard other girls stirring from time to time, the sound augmented by the slight jingle of chain. I wasn’t the only one unable to sleep it seemed.

But oh, the feelings I now had! I squirmed in the straw, imagining that a man had hold of me, that he was drawing me to himself for use.

No! I shouldn’t think such things. And yet… the feelings were so intense after what I had witnessed through the bars of the cage. My mind replayed every indignity, every sensual overture that had been conducted on Sophia’s ripe body.

To my shame I imagined what it might have been like had that been me in Sophia’s place.

I had rarely felt like this back on Earth, not to this degree. The men I knew often bored me. They seemed timid, respectful, afraid of incurring my wrath or disdain. True, they amused me, and I delighted in tormenting them with my charms, and sometimes I found them handsome and flirted shamelessly with them, but always when they became too familiar I would push them away with an outraged expression, and to a man they would apologise and placate me, assure me they didn’t mean to take such liberties with my person. I would despise them for it, and it would only make me want to tease and torment them the more. Sometimes I didn’t even think of them as men, but simply as boys who were beneath me.

But tonight I was hot with sexual arousal. I turned again in the straw and froze suddenly as my ankle chain jingled. Beside me I could sense Sophia gazing round to where I lay. I was suddenly afraid she might be able to sense my arousal – a stupid notion of course – how could she? And so I feigned sleep instead.

“Michelle?” I heard her soft voice, little more than a whisper in the semi darkness. I could make out the shape of her body from the light of Gor’s three moons. Enough of it filtered through the windows of the barn to make night sight possible. “Is something wrong, Michelle?” she whispered, but I remained still, hardly breathing even. I was afraid the timbre of my voice might betray me, that somehow a trace of my deepening arousal might carry in the tone of my speech, and so I said nothing. I sensed Sophia settle down again and then I allowed myself to breathe.

To my left I then sensed Eleanor stirring. She moved onto her side so that her back was to me. I lay there my senses seemingly heightened and I heard the soft sound of her fingers rubbing against her body. She was trying to keep ever so still and quiet for fear of either me or Sophia knowing what she was doing, but I could guess. Somehow I could almost sense her body quivering as she stroked herself between her thighs. I licked my lips and swallowed through a sense of nerves. Eleanor was in a state of arousal like me! But she, the slut, was doing something about it. I heard the softest of sighs as I understood only too well the pleasure she must now be experiencing with the benefit of her right hand. Softly, quietly, I moved my own hand down between my legs, touching myself there. I must be quiet. I must not let Eleanor know. I certainly must not let Sophia know!

I aroused myself to the point of no return and felt a quivering, explosive, shameful response from my body. I lay still, savouring it, aware from the change of breathing of some of the girls that they were lying quietly now, listening to me in the darkness of the barred cage. My leg had moved in the chain several times as I had reached orgasm, and they had sensed I was restless at best. Thankfully in the dim light they couldn't see how flushed and excited my body was, how tightly I squeezed my thighs together with my right hand pressed firmly between them. I held on to the warm after glow of the self administered orgasm and felt tears stain my cheeks. It had been a moment of weakness and I now felt ashamed of how I had given in to my body after having watched the red silk girls dance by the camp fires. I was not like them of course. I did not want to be like them, and yet...

What was happening to me? Why did I suddenly feel like this? I was furious with myself, my body, my sexual needs. I was Michelle Frost, and I would be in control of my life, in control of my feelings. I would not surrender to some basic emotional set of biological responses! That was not me. I had dignity. I was not like Sophia. I despised her for the way she had flaunted her body before the peasants in the village. They were low class labourers; simple men, and hardly worthy of her and most certainly not worthy of me.

I lay there, chained, sensing that Eleanor was still awake. Did she know what I had done? I hoped not. It had to remain my secret. Mine alone.

The next morning we were roused at some awful time before dawn. I moaned as I felt a foot nudge me awake and as I blinked sleep from my eyes I saw it was one of the peasant village women. There were three of them in our barn area where we had slept caged. The woman wasn't veiled so I could see the hostile expression on her face as she then slapped me hard with a supple stick when I didn't move quickly enough.

“Sit up! Kneel!” she barked in Gorean, but these were words I could understand by now. I rose quickly and knelt before her with my back straight, smarting at the unexpected blow. How dare she! I was Michelle Frost of Earth and she was just some backward farm woman! I saw the other girls in the cage roused swiftly by the other women and lie, me they were made to kneel. The plainest looking of the free women spat in Sophia's face. Sophia shrank back, startled, and when she moved her right hand to try and wipe away the spittle, the peasant woman suddenly struck that hand with the stick. Sophia cried out, which prompted another blow until she knelt very still, with the spittle dripping down her cheek.

“Stinking slut!” said the free woman to Sophia. There were a few more words in a similar vein, but I wasn't able to translate them for the woman spoke quickly. No doubt she had singled Sophia out because of her lewd and provocative dancing last night. Although the free woman of the village hadn't been present during the dancing, they no doubt watched surreptitiously from a hidden vantage point somewhere close by, and hated Sophia for the way she had behaved in front of their men.

I saw another of the women seize Sophia by her hair and pull her head back. They all clustered round her and shouted terms of abuse that none of us understood. For myself I kept quiet and didn't dare move for fear of attracting attention and similar treatment. Let hem bully Sophia if they had to bully someone. But not me. Please, not me.

After a few minutes, during which time they had pushed Sophia onto her belly and then set about striking her naked buttocks with their sharp, stinging sticks, they seemed satisfied for now. They ordered us on to our feet and to leave the cage, which we did, though Sophia, weeping, had to be helped to her feet by Eleanor. Our ankle chains were still locked in place, keeping us in coffle in twos and threes. I didn't dare disobey these women. They frightened me, for they obviously had authority over us while the men weren't around to keep them at bay. I wanted the men to come back and protect us! I was afraid what these women might do to us with no men around.

We were set to work in the chill morning air. Shivering, I was made to clear up the detritus from the feasting that had taken place the night before. Still chained to Eleanor, I moved around the village square clearing away plates and cups and placing left over food in a ceramic bowl.

I didn't understand why these village women hated us so much. We were of their sex. Surely they should have sympathy for us? And yet if we so much as looked at the they would strike us with their sharp, stinging sticks and his insults that we didn't understand. The red silk girls received the worst of it. Thank God I was still a virgin, for the women of the village seemed to hate the red silk girls the most.

But then things got worse. When our work in the village square was done and it was now light, though still chilly, the chains from our ankles were removed and the red silk girls, Julie, Kim and Sophie, were led back to the cage in the barn. The remaining five girls, Eleanor, Sally Peterson, Mary, Anna and myself, were then led out of the stockade and into the surrounding fields. We walked in single file with a village woman ahead of us, a woman behind us, and a woman with a switch walking parallel with us, watching us like a hawk. None of us dared speak, for uttering a single word would almost certainly lead to a beating, and yet I grew anxious that if only I might communicate to Eleanor, this could be our chance to escape, for we were now unchained and only guarded by three women. If we could escape them we might find help from the men and women of this planet who did not approve of the way we had been treated.

We were led along a muddy path, for it had rained early in the morning, and to a series of partially ploughed fields where five of the village slaves were waiting for us. These were the women who had been working in the fields when we had arrived, and as I noted before they were very different from us – heavier bodies with wide shoulders, wide hips and strong physiques. They were labouring women who were used to hard toil in the fields. They were not soft and beautiful and desirable as we were. I suppose a lifetime of graft had built muscle in places that didn't exist for the likes of me. The palms of their hands would be hard and calloused and their bodies adapted for long hours of manual labour.

There were a number of small ploughs with harnesses waiting for us. I didn't understand at first, but then I was motioned forward and despite my protests, the slave women placed and secured the harness of one of the single blade ploughs across my body, buckling it tightly around my waist, my shoulders and between my legs to distribute the weight of the plough. No! They couldn't possibly mean for me to pull this thing?

“Please! There must be some mistake!” I wailed and swiftly received a sharp beating across my bare thighs for the remarks. There were two blows against each of my thighs and I yelped in pain. The final adjustments to the harness wee then made, and the slave girl who had tightened my harness now prompted me to begin walking, pulling the heavy iron plough behind me. She took hold of the handles and steered the plough in a straight furrow as I did all the back breaking work. I sobbed, digging my feet into the thick earth as I struggled to drag the iron plough across the field. Behind me the other four girls were being similarly harnessed into the remaining ploughs, though having seen how I had been struck by the village slaves, they didn't dare protest.

I was exhausted by the time I reached the far side of the field, and all I could think of was resting, but no. That bitch of a slave now directed me to turn round and begin ploughing a second furrow parallel to the first! I was going to be doing this all day until the field was fully ploughed! I began to hyper ventilate in panic and tears ran down my cheeks. My body was already trembling for I was using muscles that I rarely used like this. But then the girl struck me again across my ass and thighs and I had to do as she said, re-tread the sodden earth back to where I had begun, ploughing another line.

I had managed to plough four and a half furrows before I collapsed on the ground, only to be forced back to my knees and then feet by painful strokes of the switch. I was crying, snot running from my nose, as were the other girls – even strong, defiant Eleanor. None of us were used to this kind of gruelling labour.

I have no idea how long we were worked in the fields until it became clear to these vicious spiteful women that we couldn't drag the plough any longer, no matter how much they beat us. Our bodies were exhausted, our muscles shaking and one by one we collapsed, unable to even stand. We weren't like them – we didn't have strong, broad shouldered bodies built to drag the plough. We were soft, weak, small.

As I lay on the wet soil, I became aware of men approaching. One of the men was Sadric, accompanied by a couple of the village men. I think my spirits lifted as I saw him, and I called out to him from where I lay, for I knew he liked me, and I begged him with cries of “Master.” He paused, seeming to notice me, and then he came over and stood above my prone body.

“Michelle. You look exhausted. Do you have any idea how long you've been working in the fields?”

“All day, Master,” I sobbed.

“Barely two hours,” he replied to my dismay. “A village slave is usually worked until the sun sets. At this time of year that is probably not for another eight or nine hours.”

“Please... I can't work any more... I can barely stand!”

Sadric smiled, glanced round at the other women who were in a similar state to me, and nodded. “This was meant to be instructional, Michelle. I thought it important that you all knew what your alternatives were if you chose not to be pleasing from now on. Pleasing slaves are sold in the cities to wealthy masters who may offer them a reasonably soft life. Slaves who prove objectionable can be sold to industrial mills or farm steads like this one. What would you prefer, Michelle?”

“I want to be sold in a city, Master! I want to be pleasing!” I sobbed quickly.

“Good. After all, I'm likely to make more money on you that way. Would you like to return to your cage, Michelle?”

“Please! Yes!” I was frantic with hope. I crawled forward with what little strength left to my body, at least as far as the plough harness would permit, and I kissed and licked his feet. “I will be pleasing.” I could hear the other girls saying similar things, even proud, defiant Eleanor.