Kiera of Gor (9)

9: I am delivered in chains to the Chambray where my Mistress awaits me

The Lady Marissa was working in her personal rooms on the first floor of the Chambray building when she heard me being escorted up the stairs to her apartments. I heard the slight clink of chain as I flexed my wrists in the collar and bracelets arrangement as one of the men knocked politely on the free woman's door. “Come in,” she said as the man motioned for me to enter before him.

She was rich, that much was obvious from the size and furnishing of the suite of rooms. The most striking and prominent feature of the main room in which she worked was the enormous couch-bed; an expensive piece of hand crafted furniture far larger than the average Gorean couch and far more comfortable. Boasting craftsmanship of a superior grade and exotic timbers sourced from the best trees in the northern Panther-infested forests, the headboard boasted exquisite bas-relief carvings depicting scenes from classic theatre. The bed itself looked very soft and was covered in a multitude of rich fabric throws and cushions. Like all Gorean couches it had a heavy slave ring set into the foot of the bed, and a number of smaller rings around the sides, though I suspected that these were never used as the lady didn't strike me as the kind of Gorean woman who purchased virile male slaves.

The floor had been tiled and was partially covered with a number of expensive carpet rugs imported from the Tahari. Large door-sized windows led out onto a balcony that overlooked a small walled garden to the rear of the property. A hand rail at waist height provided a necessary safety feature. Close by the windows I saw Marissa's desk and a high backed chair, at which she sat working on various papers pertaining to what I assumed must be her business and financial interests. The desk held an adequate supply of parchments, wax seals, writing implements and some reference books. A wooden scroll tube stood next to the desk carved from some exotic wood, holding a succession of important documents that Marissa tended to refer to. A heavy trunk secured with a heavy padlock contained her more private papers and several sacks of money.

Elsewhere there was a chaise lounge style reclining couch upholstered in velvet, and a dresser table on which I saw arranged a series of free woman cosmetics, perfumes and several hair brushes, plus pins and other grooming instruments. A small locked box was fixed into the wall, and later on I learned that it held Marissa's most valuable jewellery. Doors at the far side of the room led to a walk in wardrobe containing her gowns, robes, slips, veils, slippers, boots and other items of clothing – all clean and perfectly pressed and ordered in sequence with archive-like care.

The bare walls of the room were broken up with a number of expensive drapes. Other expensive fabrics gave the room a strong feminine feel, something that was accentuated by delicate marble sculptures on plinths, arrangements of flowers in slim, tall vases, and the subtle scent of jasmine in the air. There were a number of wall pegs close to the main door and a shelf. Hanging from the pegs I saw two different size whips and a supple switch, and a small selection of chains. Close by there was a matching set of wrist and ankle chains that could be adjusted to fit most sizes of girl; a choke leash; and a five-foot length of chain with snap locks suitable for connecting a collar to a slave ring. There were also a few coils of binding fibre, some individual locks and keys, a leather gag, and several loose chains that could be adapted to almost any purpose with the addition of a few padlocks. Close to the iron ring at the foot of the couch there were also two other iron rings set into the floor. I could see no chairs other than the one by the desk. One corner of the room did however feature a low table surrounded by soft cushions at which drinks and food could be consumed in kneeling position. This setting was decorated by a pretty glass decanter of water and three silver cups alongside a bowl of fresh fruit and some flowers.

A third door led to a tiled bathroom that featured a large sunken bath, a wall length mirror and toilet facilities. The windows here were small, numerous and positioned high up to allow light through without really permitting anyone else to peer in. Energy bulbs lit this and the main bedroom, but there were also some scented candles in place around the bath.

“This is the girl?” Marissa enquired of the man. He nodded by way of reply. Marissa in turn pointed to one of the heavy iron slave rings set into the floor and instructed him to secure me there, which he did, taking my leash and tying the loose end to the ring. The length of the leash was long enough for me to stand, but not long enough for me to move more than a pace or two in any direction. Having completed his duty in delivering me, the man bowed to the Lady and departed, leaving me to wait where I stood. I watched as the Lady Marissa took her time in finishing a few notes on some papers. She stamped some of the papers with a wax seal and signed hr name with a flourish before folding the paper and sealing it with another wax seal. She then deigned to look at me.

"Remind me of your name, girl?"

“I have been named Kiera, Mistress.”

“Your Gorean is poor. But that is to be expected I suppose. You are just a simple barbarian.” She turned in her chair and regarded me carefully. Then she rose from her seat and walked slowly towards the iron ring to which I was tethered. She was dressed in the typically long flowing gowns of exquisite expensive material that only permitted a small glimpse of the toes of her slipper-shoes to peek out from under their folds. She was lightly veiled for free women do not wear the full array of veils when they are inside their own home, and her hair was pinned up above her neck in a complicated and time consuming array. “You seem to be scared of me. Good.” Marissa smiled. “And so you should be. Provided you don't turn out to be a clumsy girl you will serve as my personal hand maiden and when not required for such duties will attend to other matters within the apartment. If you do turn out to be stupid and clumsy on the other hand, you will soon find yourself sold to a mill where you will work gruelling 12 hour days in hot, cramped, miserable conditions, in back breaking labour. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress, I understand.” I dared not look directly at her as I spoke. There was something very intimidating about being collared, chained and dressed in a scandalously brief rag while she was free and fully clothed.

I felt her hand lift my head up by the chin as she looked into my eyes. “Are you a stupid, clumsy girl?”

“No, Mistress, I am not,” I said quickly.

“Oh? So you're a girl who has a high opinion of herself then? A girl who thinks she's something special perhaps?”

“I am just a girl, Mistress.”

Marissa clicked her fingers in an imperious manner and pointed at the tiled floor. I quickly understand what that meant and I dropped to my knees in tower position before her.

“Good. Good. That will be a signal for you to kneel in future. Now lower your head.”

I did so and I felt rather than saw her walk around me to the table nearby on which there was a steel collar alongside two keys. “I've had a new collar engraved after completing your purchase at the market. Raise your head and sweep up your hair. Bare your throat.” I caught a brief glimpse of cursive script on the surface of the collar as I moved my head into position. Marissa then took hold of my hair and twisted it into a temporary knot so it was out of the way. She then unlocked the cheap collar given to me by Sadric along with the connecting slave bracelets and replaced it with the new polished collar more befitting the slave of a free woman. Once it was loosely around my throat she released my hair and closed the steel with a familiar sounding click. “Your name is engraved on the collar, along with my name and house. Guardsmen routinely check the collars of slaves who walk the city alone, so if that occurs just kneel before them and present your collar for verification.” Marissa rotated the collar around my throat until the lock was at the back under my long hair, and the small ring attachment was centre at the front. “Very pretty. Which is more than I can say for the rag you wear. Really, I know you were cheap, but is this the best tunic they could have put you in? I'm glad they delivered you through the side door.” She plucked with her gloved fingers at the cheap grey rep cloth in distaste. “You disgrace the Chambray dressed in such a cheap rag, girl. I'm not pleased.”

Did she think I had actually chosen the garment? I bit my tongue, knowing I shouldn't say anything. Now she moved her face closer to mine and sniffed. “The slaver didn't even scrub you down before delivering you! You smell of the slave market, cheap slave perfume and whatever disgusting urges you girls have. I have a good mind to demand a one fifth refund. Stand up and remove that ugly garment. I'll have it burned later on. For all I know it has lice in it. Filthy places, slave markets...”

I rose to my feet and while the free woman watched I reluctantly stripped myself, peeling the simple scrap of rep cloth from my body. I stood there naked and ashamed as she began to check my body for marks or defects.

“Have you been given slave wine?”

I nodded. “Yes, Mistress. We all had.” It had been done on the second day after leaving the wreck of the silver ship. Leofric had prepared it from a bag of powder that he had salvaged. Wine is hardly an accurate term, for it is black, bitter and foul tasting. It prevents a slave from becoming pregnant and can only be cancelled by a releasing agent, though the caste of slavers recommend top up doses as sometimes the effect can wear off naturally given time.

“Stabilisation shots?”

“No Mistress. The men had no way of doing that in the wild.” The stabilisation shots are commonly administered by the caste of physicians and they are a marvel of Gorean medicine for they effectively freeze the age of a man or woman at the point the serum is injected. On Earth this would be priceless, but on Gor it is considered the right of every man or woman to receive the serum, even slaves.

“I will arrange for it to be done tomorrow.” Marissa placed her hands on my hips which startled me, but she was simply measuring my curves and estimating their statistics. Goreans it seems thought nothing of handling slaves. “You seem to be of reasonable weight for your height.” She went through the door into the walk in wardrobe and ran her hands along the garment rails until she found a selection of slave tunics. “This will do.” She emerged carrying a white tunic that she handed to me. 'Put it on.” I did, drawing it over my head and pulling it down over my body. I was pleased to see it was reasonably modest, with a hemline that came to just above my knees. I had worn dresses of a similar cut to this in London, though the material was perhaps thinner than was properly decent. Lacing a bra, my nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. I would have been stared at wearing this in a classy London wine bar. “Better,” she said as she smoothed the thin stretchy fabric over my hips and down my thighs.

Marissa then stepped away and moved towards the chaise lounge couch. She paused to remove the light flimsy house veil and then sat down in a reclining position on the couch, folding the veil neatly and placing it on a small occasional table. She noticed my surprise and this seemed to amuse her.

“There are no men present,” she explained. “I am not expecting any visitors, but if there was a knock on the door it would be simple enough for me to veil myself before answering.” She stretched and rested her head on one elbow as she regarded me. “Tell me, is it true that free women on your world go about in public with their faces bare?”

“In my country, yes, Mistress. It is the norm.”

“Such sluts. You really are born and bred for the collar.”

I felt angry. How dare she accuse Earth women of being sluts just because we didn't muffle our faces with layers of cloth!

“What was your former name on your former world?”

“Michelle Frost, Mistress.”

“Meer shell. A strange barbarian name. And you have never known the intimate touch of a man?” She gazed at me with interest.

“No, Mistress.”

“And why is that? I've always been led to believe that the women of Earth throw themselves at their so called men.”

“I was never impressed by the men who approached me. They were needy, weak and too eager to please. I didn't respect them.”

“And here on Gor?”

“Your men... are different.” I lowered my eyes, blushing at the thought of them.

Marissa laughed softly. “I imagine they are. I wear veils for a reason after all. But you would do well not to think of men from now on. Your duties will be to bathe me, dress me, prepare my meals, perform chores around my home, run errands for me and serve drinks and food when I choose to entertain guests. I will expect you to be chaste and well behaved at all times.”

That sounded relatively simple and easy and I began to think I might have been lucky in being purchased by a woman rather than a man. I shivered, imagining for a brief moment what a man might expect of me if I wore his collar instead. And of course there was the simple fact that Marissa shared my sex. She would possibly be sympathetic to my predicament. After all we were both women surviving in a male dominated society. We had that in common, even if our status was quite literally worlds apart.

“When we are in public, or on the occasions that a man might call round to my home, you will carry yourself in a modest fashion. I do not want to see you gazing wistfully at men, nor will you present your body in a carefully contrived fashion designed to fire a man's lustful thoughts. Is that clear?”

“I think so, Mistress.”

“You will not look at men directly while we are in the streets of Corcyrus. You will be shy. I do not want to be reminded what men think about when they gaze at slave girls. If a man touches you in a sexual fashion I will assume it is because you have teased him in some way and I will be furious.”

“Mistress, I do not want to be touched intimately by a man. I fear the men of Gor.”

“Good.” Marissa seemed pleased. “Men are far too lustful when it comes to slaves. It's disgusting.” I saw her fingers clench momentarily at the edge of the couch. “You will remain white silk. You will not consort with men.”

“I am sure they would rather speak to the Mistress in any event,” I said quietly.

“You would think so, wouldn't you?” said Marissa, obviously keen to hear me say that. “I mean look at me, I am sophisticated, cultured, well read, I can discuss poetry and the arts, I have seen the great plays of Antocles, I can articulate well, I wear beautiful gowns and have studied the classic work, the nine virtues of Ariadne, and yet sometimes when I speak to a man at a social event...” her voice trailed off a little as she gazed wistfully out of a window. She sounded sad. She even sounded a little... lonely? Was that possible? I could clearly see her features now that she was un-veilled, and clearly the Lady Marissa was beautiful, and on Earth she would have no difficulty in attracting many suitors, but I suppose here on Gor men had slaves as an alternative to free women. Maybe it was more difficult on Gor for free women than on Earth.

“Pour me ka-la-na wine, Kiera.” Marissa indicated the low table with the flask and the cups. “I have had a long day and I wish to relax.” She rested now on her forearms and she looked comfortable. I rose and approached the low table where I then knelt and poured the wine. It was a deep rich red colour and I suspected it would be very expensive. I went on my knees before her and offered the wine which she took in her right hand. The goblet was surprisingly heavy, made as it was from metal with semi-precious stones around the rim.

“I like you, Kiera.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“You are easy to talk to. You seem to understand your place, and you appreciate the values of a free woman. I am not a cruel Mistress. Provided you obey me perfectly your life need not be unpleasant.”

“May I speak from the heart, Mistress?”

“Yes, but if I do not like what you say I will beat you,” said Marissa pleasantly as she sipped her wine. “Observe the whip hanging on the wall?”

“I see it, Mistress.”

“I will use it on you if and when you displease me. No explanation will be given. You will simply know you have been displeasing and it will then be up to you to redouble your efforts to please me in future if you wish to avoid further punishment. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Oh God. My owner wouldn't even tell me what if anything I did wrong...

“So, you wished to say something?” Marissa smiled. “Oh, come, come, I didn't mean to frighten you, Kiera. We're just getting to know one another. Setting boundaries and rules. Look, I want you to be able to speak openly to me when I allow it. Slaves should not hide their thoughts. I'm not a vicious mistress like some free women. I can be kind and approachable.”

“It appears to me that Mistress is sophisticated and possibly powerful,” I said to begin with, encouraged now by her words.

“That I am,” said Marissa, obviously pleased with my opening comment. “You have a grasp of flattery that will help you in your slavery, I think.” She laughed softly. “Oh, Kiera, you are a treasure. Fifteen copper tarsks well spent I think.” She sipped her wine again. “Come here. Kneel beside me.”

“Thank you Mistress. You are very kind. It occurs to me that my gentle Mistress may therefore know how to return someone to Earth. If that was at all possible I could reward you for my safe return. I would be prepared to pay any price. Any price! If I was brought to Gor then it must be possible for me to be taken away from Gor... Please... we are both women... we are both females... can you imagine how you would feel if you were in my position, if you had been enslaved in my place? If you were kneeling here in a collar? Surely you would want me to... ”

“Kiera, do you see that iron ring set into the tiles over there?” Marissa pointed to it.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“It's a slave ring, used for securing slaves. Go over to it, remove your tunic, kneel and grip the ring. I am going to whip you. You will take the whipping without releasing the iron ring. If you release the iron ring before I tell you to, I will cut off your left ear. Do you understand?”

“Please, Mistress, I didn't mean... I don't understand what...”

“TO THE RING! NOW!”

I ran to the iron slave ring, sobbing. I dropped to my knees, pulling the tunic from my body and gripped the ring with both hands. Somewhere behind me I heard the Mistress select a whip from the wall. I dared not look round as I heard her soft slippered feet pace the tiles floor behind me. I heard the unravelling of the thick blades of the Gorean lash.

I screamed a piercing scream as Marissa brought the lash down across my naked back. She was furious and she beat me twelve times with all her strength. Had she been a man of course it would have been far worse, but the lash is the lash in the hands of a woman just as much as a man, and I felt excruciating burning pain as she disciplined me. After the twelfth blow she pushed me over onto my side, but I still did not dare release the slave ring.

“Filthy little slut!” She hissed. “You dare speak like that to me! YOU DARE!” She was furious, raging. I know now that I had in a sense asked her to imagine that she was a slave like me, and that only the most foolish slave would ever say something like that to a free woman, but I did not know as much about free women then as I do now.

Then she took hold of me by the hair and literally dragged me across the floor of the room. I knew I should simply fight back but I didn't dare. I was new to Gor but not so new that I didn't by now understand the awful fate of a slave who so much as raised a hand to her mistress. I was dragged stumbling down a flight of stairs and then another flight of stairs into a dank stone basement where I was thrown to the ground. I lay next to another slave ring but this one had close fitting chains for ankles and wrists barely separated by a few inches of steel links. Marissa swore at me as she locked first my wrists and then my ankles into this arrangement. My body was bent into a bow curve due to the nature of the chaining.

She paced backwards and forwards in the basement, still furious with me as I lay there too shocked to say anything.

“We are NOT the same!” she screamed. “I am a free woman of Corcyrus! You are a slave! I would NEVER be in your position! NEVER!”

“Please Mistress, I didn't mean...”

“SILENCE! Another word and I will send for a man to whip you and then you will truly know what the lash feels like.”

I shrank into my close chains, too scared to say anything more.

“You can sleep on that hard floor tonight in close chains and in the morning you can beg my mercy. And if you ever speak to me like that again... if you EVER compare me to a slave...”

And then she turned and left me in the dark to a terrified and sleepless night.