The Slave World (23)

(23): Kajira catch

I walked agonisingly slowly past the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden for the ankle ring had just hummed against my skin again, warning me in no uncertain terms that I was exceeding the two miles per hour speed limit that had been placed upon my movement. I was in the vicinity of Covent Garden and I knew I was no longer restricted and that I was easy prey in this game of 'kajira catch'.

The rules were simple – I was fenced into a circumscribed area by the limits of my ankle ring and I had to remain here until six in the evening. Other than that, and the fact that my average speed could not exceed two miles per hour, making it impossible to hide myself in taxis or on the tube line, I was free to go about my day as I wished. I could shop, I could visit cafes or restaurants, I could do whatever I wanted. But I would be hunted by men who would detect me if I happened to be within a hundred yards of their phones. They could view my profile, see my slave details, nude photographs of me, and my current GPS location. If they liked what they saw they could come after me.

The certainty was that by the end of the day I would be seized and raped. I really didn't think I could evade pursuit for eight hours. And yet I was surrounded by hundreds of people in broad daylight. I couldn't be safer, except of course they meant nothing for I didn't dare turn to anyone for help.

All last night I had sent text message after text message to Adam, begging him to intervene, but the radio silence continued. He was either in a signal dead zone or he didn't have his phone with him, because I couldn't imagine he'd deliberately ignore my texts when I was telling him what Andromedus had done.

Mark though had read my text messages to him. I was woken up at two in the morning when my mobile rang.

“Adam?!” I said, as I rubbed sleep from my eyes.

“It's Mark. Adam has had his phone taken away. He's in the New Forest with some of the other Goreans. I've been shadowing him in case of trouble. Where are you, Cat?”

“At home! Mark, they've made me available for use!” I spoke quietly but urgently because I didn't want to wake Kassa in the adjoining bedroom. She had a rare night off.

“He shouldn't have done that. That isn't honourable. You are Adam's property. You are his woman.”

Adam's property. The way he spoke he made it sound like Adam really did own me, as far as he was concerned.

“I have to be in Central London tomorrow at ten and then...”

“I know. Do you think you can evade capture? You know the area after all.”

“I don't want to take the chance. Mark, you've got to get Adam to come here!”

“I can't contact him. Not without blowing his cover and identifying myself.”

“Then you have to come here. You have to do something!”

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I had been moving non-stop for an hour and a half, walking past the Hawksmoor Seven Dials, past Stanfords and St Martin's Courtyard, on past Tredwells and down to Leicester Square tube station – a sanctuary of sorts that I couldn't use since I was limited to such a slow pace of movement. I had the first warning pulse sequence at midday when I paused for a moment to gaze in at the M*A*C cosmetics store and I knew then that a man was within a hundred yards of me. Fear made me walk too fast and again the warning hum forced me to slow down even though every instinct in my body told me to run, run quickly and keep running. I was being hunted now, but my saving grace was that the man was a predator and he would want me to fear him. This would be a game to him and he would not choose to take his prize too early in the game. Rather he would let me keep moving, fearfully hoping that I might elude him. I had no idea of course whether I was moving away from him now or towards him. Only he knew as he gazed at my GPS location dot on his phone.

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“Cat...” Mark had sounded torn, wracked with indecision on the phone. “If I leave Adam and something happens to him... he thinks I'm keeping him under close surveillance as backup...”

“They're going to rape me, Mark! Slave rape! I need you!”

“We don't know for certain they'll catch you. You're resourceful, clever...”

“I have a slave ring locked on my ankle! I'll only be allowed to move two miles an hour. I don't fancy my chances, Mark. Help me.”

“If I intervene... this could turn out worse for you, Adam, and myself, in the long run.”

“I am going to be raped! Fuck the long run. I need you now.” Why was he even hesitating? What could possibly be more important than saving me? “Mark, tell me something. Gor is real, isn’t it? It’s actually there on the other side of the sun, and you come from Gor. You were born there. You’re not native to Earth, are you?” There was silence on the other end of the line so I continued. “I’m beginning to doubt my own sanity, and I’m not sure I believe all this one hundred percent even now, but I’ve just met too many people who seem to be adamant that all this is real, and when I look at the resources involved... Tell me the truth, Mark. You’re a Gorean man, aren't you?”

Is there really a planet Gor on the far side of the sun? All I knew then was that a lot of people said they knew for a fact there was a planet Gor, which went one step beyond them simply believing there was a Gor. All of these people acted as if Gor was a reality, and they displayed a common set of experiences to the point where it was getting difficult for me to ascribe all of this to some highly detailed mass delusion. I was suddenly part of a wide circle of people living their lives as if Gor was a matter of fact. And then there was Rebecca stroke Jennifer and her age reversal serum. Suddenly the possibility of there actually being a Gor increased exponentially because as far as I knew there was nothing on Earth that could reverse the effects of old age. Yes it could be some highly elaborate trick to fool me, including archived evidence carefully planted for me to find but that then begged the question why go to all that effort to fool me? The thought of dozens of people working independently and sometimes together to weave an elaborate web of lies with the sole purpose of making me believe in Gor was just as improbable as there actually being a planet Gor. In fact, the possibility of another planet suddenly makes more sense than the possibility of so many people from different walks of life colluding at great expense and effort to fool me in particular. Why would anyone do that?

But if there really was a Gor… if there really was a savage planet of Priest Kings and Kurii and warriors and slave girls… and if they did routinely harvest the beautiful women of Earth for their slave markets… all of a sudden I realised what Neo must have felt like in the Matrix when he took the blue pill (or was it the red pill? I could never remember which was which).

Down the rabbit hole I was falling, and it made me wonder where I fitted in to this new reality. There were only two possibilities for women in Gorean society after all.

“Mark?” I said again, because he seemed to be surprised by what I had just said.

“Yes I am. I'm Gorean. And yes, Caitlin, Gor is real. I was born there. My Home Stone is Ar. I serve the Priest Kings.”

“And Adam?” I held my breath now, feeling giddy.

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The fear I felt must have been visible in some way for as I hurried up past the Ray Ban store a man stopped to ask me if I was all right.

“Is something wrong?” He was a student by the look of him, with a backpack, trendy hair and a post modern ironic t-shirt.

“Everything's fine,” I said, though my eyes must have revealed the truth for he asked me the same question again. “I'm just late for an interview.” I hurried on and felt another warning pulse to say I had moved within one hundred yards of a Gorean master again. I hurriedly stopped in my tracks and turned back the way I had come, moving past the bemused student and back down past the Ray Ban store.

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“Adam was born on Earth. He spent five years on Gor though. He considers himself Gorean now, but he is an Earth man by birth. He too serves the Priest Kings,” Mark had explained on the phone to me.

“So… all this about you working for the security services…”

“We do work for a security service. Just not the one you thought we did. Caitlin, this is better discussed in person. When Adam returns you can ask him all your questions.”

“No, wait, if you're both Gorean, what am I to you? What am I?”

“You’re an Earth woman, Caitlin.”

“And? Do you think I’m a slave? I want to know, Mark, because I know what Goreans think of Earth women. You think we're slaves.”

Mark paused as if to select his words carefully. “You are a free woman without a Home Stone, Caitlin, We view people without Home Stones as either outlaws or barbarians. We feel sorry for them. It is complicated in your case because we have known you for several years. I shouldn’t really be discussing this on the phone. You dress modestly for your culture. You are not promiscuous. You have not displayed overt slave like behaviour, so I think of you as a barbarian free woman. I feel protective towards you.”

“So protect me,” I said. “Because I’m in danger now.”

“This changes everything, Caitlin. I would have to make myself known to the enemy.”

“You said I belong to Adam. That I’m his property.”

“It was a poor choice of words, and I was referring to the way the enemy sees you. Adam is deeply conflicted when it comes to you, Caitlin.”

“Oh? How so?”

“He desires you. I should not be saying this, but he does. He is torn between feelings that he should protect you because he has known you for many years, and feelings that he wants you in his collar. It is a war between his Earth upbringing and his Gorean teachings. The matter would be simpler for a Gorean born man.”

“He wants me as his slave?”

“Ideally, yes, but these are not ideal conditions. It would be dishonourable for him to claim you while you are a free woman under our protection. I have reminded him of that.”

“You mean… a real slave?”

“A Gorean slave-girl, subject to Gorean discipline, yes. Adam only relates sexually to women in that way. He could only be with you under those terms. He is not weak like the other men of Earth.”

“Adam wouldn’t do that to me. I trust him.”

“And he hasn’t done it to you, Caitlin. He is an honourable man. He has a code. He is a rarius, as am I.”

“But I don’t have a Home Stone? I’m a barbarian in your eyes? Doesn’t that mean I’m collar meat by your standards? That either of you are free to collar me?”

“Caitlin… this is an awkward conversation. Technically, yes, you do not share our Home Stone. And yes, Earth women are considered our prey. We consider you natural slaves. I do not speak of you personally, but rather of your barbarian race. We could collar you. You have the potential to be a valuable slave. We could have done so at any time and you would not have been able to stop us. We have chosen not to do so. Adam has put aside his desire for you because we are friends. It’s not as if you’ve displayed slave feelings to him after all.”

Um, fuck to the power of fuck right there…

I thought back to my recent text conversations with Adam. Had I written anything, anything at all that could possibly be considered submissive or slave-like to a Gorean? The texts were just on-line flirting after all. Surely he would have understood that? I would have to review all my text messages in detail. But that wasn't the priority right now.

I hesitated for a moment and then had to ask, “would it be different if a women had adopted some minor slave like behaviour? Maybe just a few words in error or jest...”

“Of course,” said Mark without hesitation. “Such a woman belongs in a slave collar.”

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I kept moving in a spiralling elliptical pattern that tested fully the boundary of where I could go. As soon as I felt the warning pulse that announced I had crossed a boundary line I quickly hurried back. After a while I began to get a feel for the limits of my freedom. These were invisible walls but they were taking shape inside my head. I ducked down narrow side streets and mostly kept away from the central area for the simple reason that a Gorean male was likely to be in a central position to reach any other point quickly.

Every time I felt the pulse signal that announced a hundred yard proximity I doubled back the way I came. But I knew that when the man wanted to bring this game to a close he need only run and he would catch me.

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“How did Adam come to spend five years on Gor?” I had asked Mark last night.

“It is not my place to tell you about Adam. We weren’t going to tell you any of this. We didn’t want to involve you, Caitlin.”

“But you’ve put me in danger through not telling me! You owe me protection, Mark. Goreans have a code of honour, yes?”

“Yes.” Mark seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth now.

“Then I call upon that honour. I’m a free woman under your protection. You have to help me.”

“Caitlin, this will set into motion consequences that will be very grave. We may not survive if I play my hand now.”

“Help me or betray your codes, Mark.”

“Very well,” he said reluctantly. “I will return to London.”

And although I didn’t know it at the time, I’d just gone and changed everything.

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He was waiting for me outside the Kurt Geiger store as I rounded the corner from the London Film Museum. I didn't know how many men were actively hunting me today, but I knew now the man who had caught me.

“Tal, kajira,” said Andromedus as he walked towards me with his hands stretched out either side of his body as if to embrace a long lost lover.

Not him. Please, not him.

I stood there knowing I should at least try and escape, but knowing also that there was no point in doing so. I would not give him the satisfaction of one last laughable attempt to flee. I felt his hand on my waist as he pulled me to his body. I felt him inhale the perfume I had been ordered to wear. It had been pushed through my letter box early in the morning with a note to use it. It was slave perfume. I felt him raise my head by the chin and then I felt him kiss me, hard, savagely, a master's kiss as it is called in the books. I felt him bite my lower lip and draw blood. I felt him push me against the shop window as he kissed me, much to the disapproval of some of the passing men and women. Andromedus didn't care what they thought. To his mind they were sheep and he was the wolf.

“Get a room,” said one man in an Arctic Monkeys t-shirt as he walked past. Andromedus simply ignored him.

“Are you ready to learn your slave belly, kajira?” he said as he broke away from the kiss.

“She will learn her slave belly at the feet of her master,” said Mark as he emerged from the side alley to face Andromedus's back. I had caught sight of Mark fifteen minutes ago. He had been following me since.

Andromedus turned slowly to regard Mark, his body tense and ready to strike if need be. “And who the fuck are you?”

“I am Adam’s friend, and he asked me to watch his kajira while he is away. This girl wears his ankle ring. She will soon wear a kef brand on her thigh. Adam has chosen to restrict her, and she is not available for use.”

Andromedus laughed as he assessed Mark the way he might do a boxing opponent before a fight. “Walk away Earth man. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It does concern me for Adam and I are sword brothers who have shed blood together. I am telling you now that this kajira is for his personal use until he decides otherwise.”

“And I am telling you, ‘sword brother', to mind your fucking business before I make you swallow your own fucking teeth.”

“We are in a public place,” said Mark matter of factly. “I do not think you will do anything in a public place, but if it comes to that, I will take you down here and now in front of the crowds. You won't even see it coming.”

I held my breath as the two men faced off across the Central London street. For a moment I thought maybe Andoredmus would suddenly pull a gun from his jacket and shoot Mark dead, but no, he looked around and perhaps decided that the subsequent effort needed to pull strings to cover things up wasn't worth it.

“You would be surprised what I’m sometimes prepared to do in a public space, rarius,” he said as he moved back a step or two, his body relaxed but ready to fight if Mark tried to retaliate. “But this is not the place. Our patience is legendary and we are legion. Rest assured you are now a dead man walking, rarius. Prepare to sing your death song with steel very soon.”

“Another time, kajira,” said Andromedus as he walked slowly back down the street, pointing two fingers of his right hand at Mark and making a gun shot motion before he left. “Another time.”