Kiera of Gor (8)

8: A sale. I am purchased. I am a slave.

There are some universal truths that remain the same on both Gor and Earth and as Sadric and Leofric returned I could both see and smell that they had been drinking.

“My beautiful kajirae,” said Sadric in a buoyant mood. He stroked our thighs as he passed the raised platform from left to right. “I trust you've had a relaxing afternoon topping up those beautiful tans in the hot Corcyrian sunshine?”

I gripped the links of the steel chain that descended from my slave collar as I knelt on the wooden decking. “Where have you been, Master?”

“Enjoying a few bowls of paga in an excellent establishment just three streets away.” Paga is the drink of choice amongst Gorean men, and it is essentially a strong beer-like drink made from fermented grain. As Sadric alluded to, it is commonly drunk from bowls rather than the beer glasses of Earth. I didn't know it at the time, though I certainly know it now, that paga is commonly served by paga girls; slaves who come with the price of a drink. Sadric and Leofric had the look of men who had undoubtedly made full use of the girls that had served them. “Has there been any interest in you?”

“Men have repeatedly inspected us, often intimately,” I said with resentment. “You left us here! Naked! Chained!”

“That is good to hear. Hopefully a number of them will return shortly to make offers.” Sadric picked up a small blackboard on a hanging chain and chalked some words on it that I couldn't read. He then hung the sign from a pole stand stood beside our platform.

“What does that say?” I asked.

“Barbarians for sale,” said Sadric with a smile. “We are open for business.” Now he turned to face our line and began to bark orders. “No more slouching. No more idle postures. You will all kneel in nadu, backs straight, stomachs in, thighs apart.” He picked up a switch and with it administered sharp stinging rebukes to any girl who didn't pose correctly, me included. “When a man takes an interest in you, you will respond, asking him to buy you. Kiera, demonstrate.”

I swallowed hard and felt the sudden urge that I needed to pee, but under the watchful eye of Sadric reached out with my hands to an imaginary man and said, “please buy me, Master.”

“Good, but personalise it. You have a name, Kiera.”

“Please buy Kiera, Master.”

“A little more variety.”

“Kiera is a slave, Master, please buy Kiera. Let Kiera wear your collar tonight...”

“Better. Now the rest of you.”

I hung my head in shame and dared not look at the accusing expression that Eleanor would certainly have now. The other girls began reciting similar phrases, though Eleanor was reluctant to do so until Leofric suddenly cracked his whip close to her knees.

“Buy me Master!” said Eleanor in alarm. For all her stubbornness she feared the whip as much as I did. The whip cracked again and I resisted a smirk as the proud defiant Eleanor now reached out with her own hands and cried out, “Eleanor begs a master! Please buy Eleanor, Master!”

“So you do want a master, Kiera?” said Sophia with a satisfied smile on her face later on in the afternoon as she saw me call out in vain to a passing man.

“I do not want to be whipped,” I said to her with a hiss. “The men have whips!”

“Oh, is that all? Slave Kiera simply fears the lash?”

“Yes! I am not a slut like you!”

And so our display began as men came and went, taking their time in touching us and talking to Sadric and Leofric. To begin with I was simply terrified, but then as the middle of the afternoon wore on I began to feel something different. I began to feel strangely aroused by the combination of being touched intimately while I was chained. A soft whimper escaped my lips as one particularly handsome man stroked and caressed me with his right hand while he gripped my hair in his left. What would Eleanor think of me? I dared not look at her, though I was aware that she too was being evaluated by his friend. And then I heard a soft whimper from where she knelt. Could it be? Could it possibly be that Eleanor was feeling something similar to what I now felt?

I tried to control my breathing, but it was evident from the way my body moved that I was simmering with arousal now. The presence of the chain and collar arrangement, its inflexible bondage on me seemed to amplify what I might normally feel from the hands of a man. Women brought to Gor are often in for a rude awakening when they discover what bondage does to their sexual responses. Put a woman in chains and you light the smouldering fires in her belly. It is an almost Pavlovian response as I was discovering to my shame. I knew I would be more in control of my body if I didn't wear a collar and if that collar wasn't secured by the length of chain to the slave ring on the wooden decking.

“Spread your thighs wider,” said the man and I did so. I felt his hand touch me there and I almost cried out in heat. What he was doing to me now went far beyond simply touching me! He was deliberately arousing me! I looked wildly at Eleanor and was relieved to see her wriggling helplessly with her eyes closed. Good. She would be oblivious to the condition of my body.

“You're white silk?” said the man.

“I am, Master. Please buy me! Let Kiera please you!”

He laughed then and withdrew his hand. “Foolish little kajira. A while silk girl wouldn't have the first idea how to please me. I don't have the time or patience to teach you. I want a red silk girl,”

“Sophia is red silk, Master,” said Sophia quickly. “Let Sophia please you...”

And just like that the man moved to my left to examine Sophia.

The little bitch! I knelt there, my thighs trembling from what the man had just done to me. The man had obviously been interested in me! Me! And then Sophia had fluttered her slut like eyes and said, “oh, but handsome Master, I'm a red silk girl...”

I wanted to hit her. I wanted to scream at her. How dare she upstage me like that!

I glanced at Eleanor. A man had her on her back and was arousing her in a fashion that was quite plain to see. Her hands clutched at the steel chain of her collar as she parted her thighs wide and whimpered to his touch. I was shocked. Was that what my responses might have looked like... I blushed and placed my own hands on the steel links of my chain. Surely not. I couldn't have looked the way Eleanor did now. I heard her cry out, her back arch, her breasts raised as the man did something to her with his hand. Then he must have seen me watching intensely as he turned his head slightly and smiled at me.

Julie was the first girl to be bought. I watched in horror as her sale was negotiated with Sadric. The arrangement was a form of bartering with Sadric suggesting an overly inflated price, the man then responding with an equally derisory offer and then several minutes of haggling ensued. When Julie was finally sold she went for twenty one copper tarsks. I saw the money change hands as Leofric freed the girl from the chain attachment.

A man had actually bought Julie as if she was a piece of meat!

Kim was the second sale of the day, and she went for nineteen copper tarsks to a builder. Sadric seemed pleased with both sales so far. They had both been red silk girls of course. They were in a sense more experienced than us when it came to pleasing men.

I hated them.

I was glad they had been sold. Now they would be taken away and I would not have to listen to their squeals of pleasure at night when they lay with Sadric or Leofric.

An offer had been made for Sophia, but Sadric declined it. I think the offer had been in the region of twenty five copper tarsks, but Sadric had decided that the girl was worth more than that.

“I have tried her out personally on many occasions,” said Sadric with a smile. “Of all the girls in this coffle she has the most exquisite responses and desire to please. I honestly wouldn't mind if she didn't sell for a while.” Sophia of course basked in this attention and praise, the little slut.

“I cannot afford more than twenty five coppers,” replied the man, for he did seem to want Sophia.

“In that case you will sleep tonight without the most desirable girl for sale in this market square locked in your personal collar. In days to come you will no doubt regret that one opportunity to buy yourself a slave that will soon be the envy of masters everywhere.”

“You charge too much,” said the frustrated man. “By your own admission she hasn't been trained. And her ankles are fat.”

“Her ankles are exquisite. Any girl can be trained,” said Sadric, “but not every girl is worth training. This one is an investment as well as an instrument of great pleasure in the furs. Some lucky master with a deeper purse than your own will soon know that for a fact.”

The man walked away muttering to himself.

“You're popular,” I said to Sophia, “but then I suppose sluts always are.”

“These are barbarians? Barbarians from Earth?” This new voice was soft and feminine and it belonged to a free woman dressed in the figure concealing robes and multiple veils of her sex. The hood of her garment was drawn back revealing the soft texture of her hair, but her features remained a mystery to the casual observer.

“They are, possibly the finest barbarians on sale in Corcyrus this afternoon,” said Sadric, rising from where he sat on the edge of the display platform. “They’ve had plenty of exercise these last few weeks travelling to the city in a chain coffle on foot and some rudimentary training in speaking Gorean. My name is Sadric of Corcyrus, gentle Lady,” said Sadric as he introduced himself to this potential new customer, “and I only market quality stock with verifiable pedigrees. Every one of these girls is certified lice free and meek. Of particular interest to a fine Lady such as yourself is the availability of a number of white silk girls, unsullied by the touch of a man. Perfect for your home and soft furnishings.”

“Lady Marissa of Corcyrus,” she replied in turn. I was fascinated by my first real close up sight of a Gorean free woman of the cities. Whereas the peasant women had been common and simple in their tastes, this Lady Marissa seemed to be cultured, sophisticated and raised in etiquette and deportment. Her gowns were a swirling design of cascading blue hues, obviously very expensive. “I am looking for a girl to serve as my hand maiden and carry out day to day chores. My last girl proved troublesome and disappointing and regrettably had to be sold. She had been verified as white silk but the way she conducted herself in public when accompanying me was anything but. She positively basked in the attention received from men and seemed intent on causing me embarrassment by drawing attention to herself as we shopped in the market place.”

“I can imagine how distressing that must have been,” said Sadric with a smile. “Sadly, the common kajira is literally a slave to her appetites; appetites not shared by the good free women of Corcyrus of course.”

“Of course,” said the Lady Marissa.

Sadric rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Between you and me, Lady, you do well to consider barbarians. They come from a repressed society with little to no experience of real men and so are perfectly suited to sharing the living quarters of a gentle Lady such as yourself. Dress them demurely, maintain strict discipline, keep them away from men and you should have no problems to speak of.” Sadric turned now to face us. “Thighs together, slaves! That goes for all of you!”

I quickly pressed my knees together. The position of nadu with thighs spread wide apart is really only appropriate in the presence of men. Free women of Gor find such a position offensive and understandably so. A slave in the presence of a free woman commonly adopts the tower position of kneeling which is more demure.

“Which one has the best understanding of Gorean?” enquired Lady Marissa.

“That would in fact be Kiera,” said Sadric, motioning towards me with a slave switch. He tapped me on the thigh and used the tip of the stick to raise my chin.

“She's a pretty little thing,” said Marissa with a derisive sniff. “Perhaps a bit too pretty.”

“I'm hardly in the business to offer ugly barbarians for sale,” suggested Sadric politely. “I only deal in top quality stock.”

“I suppose,” said Marissa as she took hold of my hair and turned me to the left and then the right as I knelt on the wooden decking. “Are you the sort of filthy slut who thinks of nothing but men?” asked Marissa of me.

“No Mistress, no! I am not!” I said quickly. “I am white silk!”

“Has she shown any signs of excessive slave heat en-route to Corcyrus?” Marissa asked Sadric.

“On the contrary,” said Sadric, “she spent the many weeks informing us all that she shouldn't be in a collar and that she wasn't the sort of girl who would beg to be used in the furs.”

“Hmm. That does sound promising. And yet she is a slave, and slaves can't help themselves.”

“That is true, gentle Lady,” said Sadric with an air of sadness. “It is why we keep them in collars after all.”

“You hardly need a steel collar to tell that this girl is a natural slave,” remarked Marissa. “It would be obvious even if her neck was bare.”

“You refer to the brand on her thigh?”

“No, I refer to the girl herself... I mean look at her... obviously a slave... those ripe curves, those lips so brazenly displayed, her air of submissiveness, her general air of wanton sexuality. Quite disgusting.”

“Indeed,” reflected Sadric. “Just as well she is in a collar then.”

“She certainly shouldn't be free,” agreed Marissa. “Any woman with a body like that is a natural slave.”

“I bow to your wisdom and intelligence on such matters,” said Sadric with a smile as he speculated in vain what Lady Marissa's body shape might be like beneath the loose robes she wore. “You obviously have the eye of a trained slaver when it comes to appraising girls for the collar.”

“Well, I know a slut when I see one.”

“The gentle Lady of Corcyrus would of course benefit from a generous discount being offered today to gentle ladies who share a common home stone with myself.”

“A discount you say?”

“Why yes, with the inclusion of the discount this demure white silk girl could be yours for a mere twenty five copper tarsks!”

“It has been pleasant speaking with you, Sadric of Corcyrus, but now you are drifting into the realms of wild speculative fantasy so I will bid you good day,” said Marissa as she turned round, but took her time in doing so.

“One moment, gentle Lady, I may have inadvertently quoted you an incorrect price on account of the vast number of girls that we successfully train and sell. An easy though unfortunate mistake to make.”

“I thought as much,” said Marissa, turning round once more to regard him. “You were no doubt about to tell me that her asking price was in the region of ten copper tarsks?”

Now Sadric smiled. “The gentle Lady paints an intriguing picture of slave prices that once existed during the fall of Ar when the market was saturated with pretty little things from that great city, their wrists and ankles securely fastened in steel chains. The market I fear is more fluid these days, and barbarians always attract considerable interest from speculators who tend to offer twenty tarsks or so.”

“Hmm. These speculators are conspicuous by their absence today, Sir. Perchance they happen to have found a paga tavern nearby that caters for many of their baser needs and are unlikely to appear before the market closes. If only there was a gentle Lady of Corcyrus prepared to offer you twelve copper tarsks for the little slut, why, you would no doubt very briefly kiss the tips of her gloved hands in gratitude for the welcome business.”

“A gentle Lady of such esteemed virtue would find it easy enough to procure this girl for the largely insignificant sum of, say, seventeen copper tarsks, which in the grand scheme of things is a figure that barely allows a humble slaver to break even, what with the rising cost of slave gruel.”

“Fifteen and I keep the collar around her neck.”

“Sold, to the gentle Lady Marissa of Corcyrus,” said Sadric with an amused twinkle in his eye. “You have made a wise investment today, Lady.”

I felt numb as I gazed down at the wooden decking. With just a few words and a handful of coins I had been sold. I was a slave and I now belonged to the free woman, Marissa of Corcyrus.