The Slave World (18)

(18): Café kajira

Outside. I was outside again in the big wide world with its fresh air. I felt nervous and kept looking around me as we walked through Soho, convinced that at any moment now I would feel the signal pulse on my ankle ring that would announce a master was within one hundred yards and interested in me. I stuck very close to Adam and actually felt terrified at the prospect of being left somewhere on my own for more than a few minutes.

“How are you feeling, Cat?” asked Adam after we emerged from the Piccadilly Circus tube station into the bright sunshine.

“Nervous as hell.” I had changed into a dark patterned blouse, black skinny jeans and ankle boots to hide the slave ring that I wore. I carried a small hand bag for my essential things and had applied a little bit of concealer and light foundation to my face to alleviate the tired pasty look from having been trapped indoors for nearly a week eating TV dinners. Despite my nervousness it did feel good to breathe fresh air again and feel the sun on my face.

“Let me show you something that might help.” He opened up his phone app and showed me the zoomed in GPS map of the immediate area. I saw there was a red dot where presumably I now stood.

“That's me?” I peered at the screen.

“That's you. Any Gorean within one hundred yards can view your position. But...” He tapped the dot and up came my familiar photo and slave profile details. I winced inwardly knowing that although we were looking at a close up shot of my face the app details would include all manner of nude shots of me too. It felt humiliating to know that Adam could look at those photos of me any time he wished. “But watch this.” He clicked on the option that would alert me that he had seen me and wished me to know that he would be making contact. I braced myself for the tell-tale pulse from my ankle ring, but nothing happened. He showed me the screen again. It read 'this Kajira is locked'.

“Locked? What does locked mean?”

“It means that you are currently with your master. Me. While you are 'locked' to me, no other master can intrude.”

“Oh.”

“So you can relax, Cat, no Gorean will approach you today.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. But then I had to ask. “What about when I'm not with you?”

Adam pressed a couple of tab options and the screen displayed the message 'kajira Caitlin is now unlocked'.

“Adam! What are you doing! You unlocked me!” I felt a wave of panic. I would now be available to men again. “Please lock me. Don't do this!”

“Relax, Cat, I only unlocked you for a moment to simulate if you were walking around London on your own. Now watch.” He clicked on the previous option to alert me that he had seen my profile and was coming to speak to me. The screen now displayed a different message: 'kajira Caitlin is level one restricted by her master.'

“Level one restricted?” I looked up at him.

“Yes. That means a man cannot use you, and he cannot command you to go somewhere with him. He may speak to you, and you have to be deferential, but he cannot do more than that. In most cases he therefore won't bother to make contact. Why would he? You're unavailable.”

I breathed another sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you, Adam.”

“While you're level one restricted, only I'm permitted to use you.”

“Use me?!”

“Of course I wouldn't do that though. I'm just explaining how this works. Though frankly I'm only human, and if you keep moving into my body space the way you often do...”

“Oh.” I nibbled my lower lip for a moment as I considered what it might be like if Adam chose to 'put me to use'. “I suppose I would have to obey you, wouldn't I?” I said as I made no effort to move out of his personal body space.

“Yes, Cat, that's how this works. You would.”

“Can you... can you lock me again though? I'd prefer other men to know I'm locked to you. I'll feel safer.”

“Of course.” He pressed a couple of options and showed me the screen. “See, you're my locked property again. You can say, 'thank you, master'.”

“I don't want to say that.” Locked property. And I had asked Adam to lock me! I noticed Adam suddenly gaze at his phone app with interest as if some message had just popped up. A text from Mark perhaps?

“I think we'll have a coffee here,” said Adam as he pointed to a street cafe close by. “Come along, my pretty kajira,” He said with a wink.

He ordered espressos for us each and some cake. I watched as the waitress placed the cup and plate before me. Ironically she was serving a kajira, though of course she didn't know that.

Why was I thinking of myself as a kajira? I wasn't anything of the sort!

“Enjoy your coffee,” she said with a smile. I nodded thanks and gazed at Adam. “It feels strange to know that you own me.” I only said that of course once the waitress was well out of earshot.

“How do you think I feel? I've never owned a kajira before. The lovely Caitlin Ambrose wears my ankle ring. It's a pleasing thought. We've stopped for a moment because I've just noticed something that you may find educational.” He showed me the GPS screen again and now I saw there were two red dots within our vicinity as Adam had zoomed out on the street map. “This one is you,” said Adam pointing to a red dot within the coffee shop. The other dot was situated across the road, maybe forty yards to the left. “I saw the other dot when I expanded the view screen. There's another kajira close by.”

“Oh.” We had sat near the window so I was able to gaze down the street and try and see who the kajira might be. Various men and women were passing by but the red dot on Adam's phone remained stationary so it couldn't be any of them. I watched as he touched the dot and it brought up the details of a kajira called Loella. She had blonde hair and was of course beautiful. He flicked through various nude shots of her, showing off her exquisite body. I didn't think Adam should really be looking at those. He was abusing his power and I didn't like it.

“I think I see her.” I said. “Is she one of the girls sat at a table outside the other cafe bar down the street? There were three girls at the table. One was blonde, though her back was to us.

“Only one way to find out,” said Adam as he tapped the screen again to alert her that a master was close by who had found her of interest. I saw the poor girl suddenly twitch in her seat as if startled. She would have felt the corresponding notification pulse from her ankle ring. I watched as she glanced around to the left and right, a look of concern on her face as she thought perhaps to detect where the master might be. I saw her then speak to her two friends and after having made some urgent excuse she got up and left the table. I watched her move away from the cafe in haste, reaching into her handbag for a compact mirror. We both saw her standing close to a doorway and desperately touch up her makeup.

I felt very sorry for her. Her slave details included a mobile phone number. Adam touched it and as he did so I saw the girl reach back into her handbag and produce her own phone.

“Kajira,” said Adam as he spoke to her now. I could only hear his side of the conversation. “walk twenty five yards in the direction you are facing and enter the coffee shop you see to your left. I am seated by the window.” Adam ended the call before she could ask any questions.

“Adam! You're not ordering her to come here are you?”

“It might be useful and educational for you to see another kajira.”

The girl hurried now, not wishing to keep a master waiting. She had left her bemused friends behind and now entered our cafe. As soon as she saw our table she seemed to sense that Adam was the master who had called her. If she seemed confused by the fact I was here too she didn't show it.

“Master,” she said softly as she approached the table. She looked very scared, and I thought to myself how cruel Adam was being, for she did not know or understand that he didn't truly have any designs on her. “And Mistress,” she added, to me. She thought I was a free woman! I suppose there was no reason to assume I might be a slave, and it would be dangerous for her to do anything but defer to me as a free woman until she knew for certain that I was anything other than that. I expected that Adam might correct her regarding my status but he didn't.

“You may sit with us,” said Adam.

“Master...” the girl sat down. “My younger sister and one of her friends is close by. We were having lunch. She doesn't know! Please, I beg of you, do not humiliate me in front of them, I beg you. Please, Master...”

Adam smiled. “We are just having a coffee, nothing more. This is Caitlin,” said Adam as he indicated my presence at the table.

“Mistress,” she said again. “La kajira, vas eema Loella.” She had said to me in Gorean, 'I am a slave girl. My name is Loella.” I could still remember the phrases and words I had learned.

“Does your master allow you any other names?” asked Adam as he signalled the waitress over.

“Yes, Master. I am permitted to refer to myself at work and to my friends and family, as Lucinda Royce-Thomson.”

“That was your former name when you were free?” suggested Adam.

“It was, Master.”

“Your master is kind to allow you to respond to that former name. What would you do if he had allowed you the name Loella only?”

“I... I would have had to change my name legally by deed poll. It would have been hard to explain to my friends, family and co-workers of course.”

Adam looked at me. I was horrified at the thought that a woman might be forced to legally change her name at any time! How many women in London were trapped this way? Had I met Loella casually in a social environment I would have had no idea she was actually a chained kajira. It made me wonder how many other women walked the streets with ankle rings locked on their bodies?

“I like your clothes,” I said, by way of introducing myself to the conversation.

“Thank you, Mistress,” replied Loella. “I am glad you approve of them.” She seemed especially unnerved by my presence, something I found hard to understand. In fact she seemed more cautious around me than she did around Adam.

She was dressed very elegantly in what I could tell were designer separates: a high quality charcoal grey skirt, mid thigh length, and a soft cream silk blouse with pearl buttons. She wore soft patent leather ankle boots with a four inch heel, no doubt to disguise the presence of the ankle ring. Her nails were beautiful and she wore full make-up. By the look of her she was wealthy middle class.

“You seem nervous in front of Caitlin,” said Adam.

“She is a free woman, Master. I do not wish to offend her.”

I must have looked puzzled because Adam explained for me. “Slaves fear free women, Caitlin. And with good reason. Free women often treat them harshly, isn’t that right, Loella?”

“It has been known,” said Loella diplomatically for she thought I was a free woman and did not wish to provoke me it seemed. “But it is always the kajira that is at fault, not the free woman...” she added quickly without daring to look at me.

“Caitlin is unfamiliar with many aspects of Gorean slavery,” said Adam as he showed us both the profile for Loella. “Explain to her what this symbol means.” He pointed to a chalice symbol that was coloured red.

“It means, Mistress, I have been given slave wine.” When I didn’t react to that particularly she added, “I cannot conceive unless my master gives me the antidote to the slave wine.”

“You’re sterile?” I said in amazement. “They sterilised you?”

“The effects can be reversed at any time, Mistress. But yes, the effect of the slave wine is that I cannot become pregnant without the releasing agent.”

“That is horrible, Adam!”

“It is standard practice for slaves, Caitlin,” said Adam. “I thought you should be aware of it. A slave only bears a child as and when a master permits it. Often never.”

I felt very angry. And why was Adam so matter of fact about all of this? Why wasn’t he visibly outraged?

“And this symbol?” he asked as he pointed to another icon on the profile.

Loella looked upset as she gazed down at the table. “I think Master knows what that means.”

“I do, but Caitlin doesn’t. Explain to her.”

“I… I am available to buy…” she said after a while.

“What?!” I looked absolutely shocked now.

“My Master will accept offers for me.” Loella looked very upset by this.

“She can be sold?” I said.

“Of course,” said Adam, “she is a slave. A master can sometimes tire of a slave, or perhaps he wishes to make some money from her. Slaves can be sold at any time. They represent an economic asset of not inconsiderable value. Why are you for sale, Loella?”

A tear trickled down her cheek as she said, “my Master is interested in another slave. He has to sell me to fund his purchase of her. Perhaps I have not been pleasing enough. I have tried to please him. I am not frigid, Master. I try to be a pleasing slave.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Adam. “Your profile has a record of your slave responses, Loella. Have you ever seen that record?”

“No, Master. I haven’t.”

“You are rated highly. It has been noted that you reach slave orgasm quite easily.”

“Adam!” This really was too much. He was talking about Loella as if she was prize livestock and while the poor girl was sitting here beside us!

“You seem to be undervalued in your offer price,” said Adam as he looked at whatever figure had been suggested as an opening offer. The poor girl was visibly distressed by all of this. It occurred to me that if she was indeed traded, sold, she might end up anywhere. She could I suppose find herself living in a different city, saying goodbye to existing friends and family within London. This was horrible. I reached over and touched the back of her hand to offer her some comfort. As I did that she looked stunned, shocked, bewildered even. Perhaps free women did not generally offer emotional support to slaves? From the nature of her reaction that certainly seemed the case.

“There’s no need to be frightened of Caitlin,” said Adam as he too saw the alarm in Loella's face. “I know her well. She won’t hurt you.”

“Mistress,” said Loella as she still feared to look me directly in the eyes.

“I see you are not restricted,” said Adam as he gazed at the slave details again on his phone app.

“No Master...” whispered Loella quietly. “I am available for use.” Her body trembled as she said that.

“Adam, please...” I thought this had gone on far too long. The girl was scared now of what he might do. “Stop this. Just stop this.”

Adam didn’t seem to acknowledge my concern, though he did put Loella at ease. “I am not going to put you to use, Loella. In fact I am going to buy you a coffee.” He signalled for the waitress to bring the girl a drink, which she did. “You were with your sister when I saw you?”

“Yes, Master,” said Loella as she sipped the cappuccino carefully. “Her name is Rosa. She is with her friend, Elaine.”

“They both look young,” said Adam.

“They are both seventeen, Master.”

“And?”

There was a long pause and again I could see how distressed Loella was. “They have both been placed on a list, Master. My sister first, and her friend through association. They do not know of course. They have no idea. They are safe for some years yet. The slavers will not consider them until they are at least twenty one.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“She is my little sister,” said Loella in anguish. “I don’t want this to happen to her.”

“Maybe it won’t,” said Adam. “Not all women on lists are harvested. The slavers are very particular. It is only a watch list after all. Routinely less than 20% of women on a watch list are taken.”

“That is my hope, Master.”

“Thank you, Loella. That will be all. You can go now,” said Adam.

I waited before Loella had left our cafe before speaking. “Why did you do that, Adam? Why did you humiliate the girl like that?”

“Because I need you to make a decision, Cat. I know you are angry with me and Mark, but especially me, for not removing the ankle ring from your body. I can imagine how you must feel about me in particular. I wanted you to see why I want you to help me in this. Women like Loella are slaves because the House of Three Moons can act with impunity. And they can do so because they are protected by people high up in the British establishment. Mark and I stand a real chance of bringing those people down and leaving the House of Three Moons exposed and vulnerable. But we can only do that if we maintain my cover with Andromedus. And the only way I can do that is if it appears that you are my kajira. So what I’m saying now is, do you want to spare Loella's young sister from slavery in four or five years time, or are you happy to leave her to her fate?”

“Adam...”

“Because this isn’t just about you or even me. There are other people whose freedom is ultimately at stake now. Do you want me to help them? Yes or no?”

“Yes means I’ll be your kajira?” The thought was both alarming and just a little bit exciting. Just how much of a kajira would I be to him?

“I can think of no other way to maintain my relationship with the slavers. Can you?”

“No. I suppose not.” I sipped my coffee as I thought about this.

“No one else is going to help these women. You know that, Cat. Mark has been giving me a really hard time about this. He keeps saying I should never have involved you in any of this.”

“He’s right, Adam. You shouldn’t have.”

“You came to me, Cat, remember, with your tales of Gorean slavers and I couldn’t believe my luck. This is what Mark and I had been working on for several years and then Cat Ambrose hands me a way in on a plate. And then one thing led to another. But yes, Mark is not happy. He keeps telling me you’re a free woman and that you’re not a natural slave and so you shouldn't be put in this situation.”

I thought that was a very odd thing for anyone to say. Calling me a 'free woman' was a very Gorean thing to say and as for I wasn't a 'natural slave'... whatever that meant.... “The way Mark talks sometimes you’d almost think he’s from that mythical Gor himself. This assignment of yours must have really got to him over the years. It's like he's in character or something.”

“Well, he’s a complicated guy,” said Adam. “He has a lot of respect for you, Cat. He doesn’t want to go any further with this without your free will. We were wrong to just say we weren’t going to remove the ankle ring. If you really want an out, well, we’ll find a way. I don't know how, but we'll find a way. We’ll have to abort everything, and the House of Three Moons will be untouchable, but the choice is yours.”

“Adam…”

“There's a but, Cat. We’re going to put ourselves further at risk if we carry on, and you too. It’s feasible for us to extricate the three of us without ending up dead if we do so right now. But if we go any further that won’t be a given any more. We’re getting close to a point of no return. What I mean by that is, if you decide you can go ahead with this then there’s no going back. You won’t have the choice to abort in say a week’s time. In a week’s time there won’t be an opportunity to say you want to stop. Not safely anyway. So this is a big decision, a very big decision. I shouldn’t make that decision for you. Think about it.” He glanced at his wrist watch and nodded. “We'd better get a move on if we want to keep our table for lunch.”

“Adam, what's Carousel?” I asked casually without any warning as I stood up.

Adam was taken off guard by the unexpected question. “Carousel? Not... sure what you mean, Cat. Some new indie band? Where did you get the word from?” said Adam with a bemused expression on his face.

I was about to remind him that he had it scribbled on a notepad beside his computer with a sequence of numbers and the word was underlined, but instead I simply lied and said, “when I was being led through the corridor in the House of Three Moons there were some doors ajar and I heard someone refer to that word.” I watched his expression carefully. “It sounded significant. Just wondered if it meant anything to you at all?”

“Nope.” Adam shrugged with a nonchalant smile that seemed fixed to his face. “Nothing springs to mind. But I'll look into it. Always worth checking these things out. You never know where they might lead. Well done for overhearing it.”

For a moment neither of us said anything. We just looked at each other across the coffee table. “Okay then,” I remarked with a warm smile as I reached for my handbag. “It was probably nothing.”

“Okay then,” replied Adam with an equally warm smile that was almost but not quite convincing.