ADIRA by Sarah Holloway

An Introduction by Emma of London:

Considering the vast wealth of detailed and factual Gorean websites to be found on the Internet, it's surprising that there's actually so little creative story writing set in John Norman's universe. When you do find something, it is often a short stand alone scene, usually of a simple sexual nature. Before Olga came along with 'Daughter of Gor' there really wasn't much out there with a well crafted narrative, which is one of the reasons I used to create my own stories through the medium of roleplay games in Gorean themed chat rooms.

Rhys drew my attention a few days ago to a short story written by one of his players in a parallel game to the one I play in, and said the author wanted to know what I thought of it.

I'm actually a hard kajira to please when it comes to Gor stories, but this one worked for me and I wrote back to say so, and to offer to give it a 'home' on my blog if the author wanted a little more exposure.

So here it is then. A stand alone Gor story with a tougher than usual kajira heroine. Nothing in it contradicts anything I've written, so you can assume it exists in the same shared 'universe'.

Hopefully the author will write some more stories in the future. Mr Norman isn't going to be around forever, so good fanfic writers are going to be the only source of new stories and novels in the years to come.

ADIRA by Sarah Holloway

As the months turned to years it became harder and harder to hang on to the last remnants of my sense of self. The constant "lessons" and beatings and conditioning were wearing me down, smothering me and turning me into what they wanted me to be...a pleasure slave. A kajira. Every day I would twist and turn for them, perform my poses and recite my words on command like a damned dog, would crawl on hands and knees and beg Joffryn or whoever he pointed at to fuck me. And every night I would sneak away from the other slaves to the small alcove that the guards rarely visited and trained. Body weight, yoga, what little resistance the bricks and stones nearby and my own chains provided, anything, everything I could to remind myself who I was. Sarah, not Leorah or Sasi or whatever the fuck my name of the week was. Sarah. Sarah Holloway.

But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

I was losing.

Until...

"Take these, fold them, put them up then return here once you’ve finished," the head slave, Deka said, pointing to the freshly dried linens still blowing on their lines. "Yes, Mistress," Eris and I responded almost in unison. As we rose to do collect them from their dancing with the wind, a sharp thwack on the shoulder from the switch Deka carried kept me on my knees. "You're finally beginning to learn your place," the woman said sternly, daring me to meet her eyes. "But you still court the line. Don't think that I don't have my eye on you. The Master won't be amused by your behaviour forever, Crystal." God I hated that name. I never should have told Master about strippers.

A sharp rap from the switch brought my attention back to her, and I finally looked upward to see her drilling holes in my head. Maybe I rolled my eyes again. "Best you remember who has the switch, and who is the slave of slaves." Yeah, yeah, up yours too.

"Yes Mistress," I replied meekly, rising to my feet to join Eris who was doing her best not to stare. It was hard to tell if Deka genuinely didn't like me or if she was playing the tough-love, you-better-shape-up-or-else act. Even though I frequently butted heads with the more experienced slaves, she and I had gotten along pretty well before she got promoted. If it was the former then fine, fuck her too. If it was the latter, well...I knew what I was in for. I'd been around long enough to see what happens to slaves who fought back even slightly against their masters, I knew the risks. Hell, I was hoping for them! At least when I was getting beaten or strung up I felt like me for a few minutes. But for some reason all it seemed to do was amuse Master Joffryn lately, who often as not only gave me comparative slaps on the wrist. It probably baffled them that I would throw myself into punishments that they clawed over each other to avoid, and infuriated some of them that I got away with as much as I did. Well fuck them, I never needed or wanted their approval.

Needless to say, I hadn't exactly made many friends since my arrival from Earth.

Except for Eris. I didn't know what her real name was or where she was from, and she didn’t know a whole lot about me, but she and I made fast friends. Maybe the fact that she was the only one of the slaves here who could speak English helped, but even now that I spoke Gorean semi-fluently we had remained close. She was curious, sensitive, quirky and shy, and totally gorgeous her own way. I got the feeling that she was the black sheep of the clique before I got here. "You know she's just trying to look out for you, right?" she said as Deka walked out of earshot.

"Yeah I know. The question is do I care," I replied as I pulled the sheets down, gathering them in my arms as they fell.

"Shh! You're not supposed to say that!" she whispered, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting Deka to come charging around the corner. One of the first things I learned about life on Gor was that slaves weren't considered to be people, and thus weren't allowed to speak about themselves in the first person, among other things. So obviously, I did so every chance I got. It had only been recently that I started doing so around Eris, but I got the impression that when I did it excited her just as much as it scared her.

"Yeah, I know," I said, voice thick with sarcasm.

My response was met with only giggles as she helped pulled down the remainder of the sheets and pushed them into the basket. Giggles that I couldn't help but join in. "You're such a rebel, Crystal," she teased, bumping me with her hip as we walked down the hallway. Somehow that name didn't sound as bad when she said it. "But seriously, can't you be more careful?" The tone in her voice shifted from amusement to genuine worry, and she was doing that thing with her eyes again. "She doesn't want to see you get sold or crippled. Or worse, staked for the sleens..."

With a deep sigh, I shifted the basket to my left hip and held up my right hand, thumb covering the nail of my smallest finger. "She swears that she will behave," I said, rolling my eyes at having to refer to myself like that in private. She's got a point though, I have been pushing my luck lately...

"What was that?" Eris asked, her brow ruffling in confusion. "That gesture?"

"It's a...well it's a sign that you make back on Earth," I say, deciding it really isn't worth the effort of explaining what the Girl Scouts are. "It lets other people know you're serious about what you say."

"Oh, okay," Eris quickly says, careful as always to avoid asking any follow up questions about home. Another of Gor's wonderful ways of convincing girls they aren't human. "That explains why you do it when making a promise. Which you usually break," she says, her face breaking out in a smile at her joke.

"Yeah, well, no one stays out of trouble forever," I said joining her quiet and mischievous laughter.

Upon making it to the room where the linens were stored, Eris and I set our baskets down on the waist high table. "I need to go relieve myself," she says almost as soon as her basket touches the table. "Oh you're gonna leave me to fold all these by myself?" I whined playfully, cocking my head to the side and watching her walk away. "Don't work too hard!" I hear as she recedes down the hallway. Shaking my head as she skips off, all I can do is shrug my shoulders and get to work.

Busying myself with the folding of the massive linens and murmuring a half-remembered song to myself, I almost didn’t notice the slight creak in the floor that happens when someone steps through the threshold. Back already? That was quick-

A short gasp and then, “CRYSTAL!!!”

Immediately my eyes snapped to the cry’s source. In the doorway was Eris, her eyes filled with panic. And between us, arching downward towards me, the glint of metal.

A bright line of pain tore down my arm as I moved to deflect, a rusty and poorly maintained reflex burned into my muscle memory from a time nearly forgotten. A second line across my stomach as I stumbled backward, too slow to avoid the slash completely. Somehow I found myself pinned to the table, holding back a glaring woman with dark brown hair above me, pushing a knife towards my face. All thought fled from me as the sharpened iron inched closer.

Breathe. Redirect motion.

The blade thunked harmlessly into the wood inches from my face as I let my assailant win, pulling her arms to the side as I do so. A quick hook to the eye and a sloppy kick to her knee and she was off me. My hair caught on the blade imbedded in the wood and linen, ripping free a couple of strands as I backed away.

Blood. Running down my arm, seeping from my stomach. My blood.

“WHAT THE HELL?!?” I shouted as my attacker pulled the knife from its wooden sheathe. Eyes filled with murder turned to me, and finally I got a look at her face. “Safira?”

“You’re not gonna be His favourite when I’m done with you,” the other pleasure slave hissed as she turned the knife around in her hand. “He won’t be able to LOOK AT YOU!” She closed the distance between us. Two more red lines appeared as I clumsily defended myself, stumbling backwards with all the grace of a toddler learning to walk. A third was nearly drawn on my face, so close that I could feel the blood from the knife splatter across my cheek.

Safira’s eyes widened as her head snapped back and she was yanked away from me. Eris!

The fistful of hair that she had didn’t protect her now that Safira’s focus was on her. The knife lashed out, cutting deep into Eris’s forearm as the girl recoiled, screaming in pain. “You want to join her?!” the wild-eyed slave shouted raising the knife as Eris’s legs failed her and she fell to the ground. “Fine!”

No.

I could only imagine the look of surprise that Safira’s pretty little face must have made as she flew. One second she’s standing menacingly over the cowering girl, the next she was face down on the ground seven feet away with a very pissed off me in between them. “Stay back Eris,” I heard someone say mutely through the pounding in my ears. Funny. It almost sounded like me.

But that was impossible. I was somewhere else. I could see the chain fences that made the octagon, the referee in the centre with his hands raised. I could hear the roaring of the crowd, the announcer in the background, calling out my opponent’s name and stats, and then mine.

“Howling” Sarah Holloway. That was my name…

But there is no crowd, no fence line, no announcer. And no scorecard, judges or referee either. Just me, Eris, and the bitch that cut my friend.

Time slowed down around me. My fists were raised. The bell rang.

Safira charged me, swinging wildly. Idiot. She didn’t know what she was doing. A flurry of motion and I was inside. Knife hand to throat, elbow to brachial pressure point. Good luck feeling that arm. Pressure on my scalp. She was pulling my hair! That bitch! My own fingers found a handful of straight chocolate strands and I began to pull her away as I returned the favour That knife is still dangerous, control that arm! Breathe. Redirect motion. Now!

My knee met her rib cage, followed immediately by an elbow to her jawline. Both of them cracked with the impact. She didn’t know how to take a hit, not like me. Not like me. Hanuman uppercut to the underside of her jaw, followed by a forward heel kick to the diaphragm. Safira’s eyes widen with shock and confusion as she is propelled backwards, landing on the floor in a coughing and gasping heap. The expression remains as she looks at me as if I somehow surprised her. So that’s what that face looks like. Fun.

“Stay down,” I hear my voice say from a million miles away. Get up, I can feel my face saying. I dare you. I double dog dare you, motherfucker!

Safira’s eyes glitter in anger and she gets up. Her funeral.

She plays it smarter this time, keeps her slices quick and narrow. Fast learner. Not fast enough though. Her stabs leave her extended. Just like that I’m outside and I control that arm again. Another line of pain, somewhere on my chest, but I don’t really feel it. It’s just noise. I have her.

A quick jab to the orbital throws her off, a short side kick to her outside knee bends it sideways and with a twist of the hips she’s on the ground. Her wrist is still in my hand, stretched out before me like a stack of wood from a belt test. I’ve broken thicker. I can hear myself howl as my fingertips whistle downwards.

Blood splatters the ground beneath us as an ear piercing shriek fills the room and beyond. Bits of bone and sinew are poking out like little sprouts of morbid bamboo where her forearm and elbow used to be. She drops the knife. She’s got bigger problems now.

I picked up the knife and backed away, checking my new battle scars out as I did so. It wasn’t bad. Here on Gor doctors could heal an injury like this in an hour or less.

The doctors!

Immediately I felt like someone had dumped an entire swimming pool of ice water on me. My breath caught in my throat as the weight of what I had done nearly brought me to my knees. Oh fuck, now I’m gonna get it. I could already feel the whips across my back, across my chest, across my…

Somehow my back hit the wall, and I looked up. Eris was looking at me, white as a sheet and eyes so wide they looked like drops of blue paint on an ivory saucer. It was like she was stuck in a room with a bear or tiger or whatever the Goreans called their predators.

The pounding of boots growing louder and louder guaranteed that this would not remain a secret. But still, years of impulse compelled me to raise my hand, point it to the frightened girl. “You will tell no one about this,” I said, but I couldn’t tell if I was threatening or pleading.

The first guard arrived, followed swiftly by two more. Barely a fraction of a second had passed before they closed toward me, a grim and dark look in each of their eyes. I can’t say I blame them. If I had walked in and seen a sobbing woman on a blood covered floor and me pointing a knife at another slave, I’d have thought the same thing. The knife clattered to the floor as I dropped it preemptively, but it didn’t matter. They had their target.

Two of them grabbed me and wrestled me down to the floor while a third put the tip of his sword to my throat. I didn’t resist, but that didn’t stop them from striking me. It never did. They roughly forced my wrists to the back of my neck and rope was brought out. In nearly the same amount of time it took them to cross the room to me they had me dangling by my neck, my hands tied uselessly behind my head and pulling downward in a desperate and painful attempt to keep from choking as I teetered on my tip toes. And then they pulled out the five-tailed whip.

“Wait,” I cried, voice catching and hoarse from the tension, terror pounding through my system where scant seconds earlier had been adrenaline. “It’s not-”

I saw stars and tasted blood as the senior guard backhanded me into silence. “Quiet, slave!” he barked, sheathing his sword and taking up the whip. “Your guilt is plain as day!” Rolling the slack out of the whip, all I could do was balance on my toes and brace for the impact as he raised his hand high.

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?!” a voice boomed out. I didn’t know to be thankful or even more terrified. Master Joffryn stood at the entryway of the room, shock and anger already turning his face red. That made the decision between the two easier.

“Sir, this slave was threatening with a knife! She’s already claimed one victim!” the guard captain said, pointing to the weeping Safira as she slid on her own blood, arm totally destroyed. That was all the evidence Joffryn needed, and his eyes filled with fury as he stepped forward and took the whip from the man. I knew that look. I had come to fear that look.

“Mercy! Mercy Master! Mercy!” a wavering voice rang out before Joffryn could express his rage. Eris scampered out and prostrated herself between me and my enraged bear of a master before sitting back on her heels and offering her crossed wrists to him, blood flowing freely from where she was cut. “Mercy!”

“She attacked you too, Eris?” he asked as he made to move past her, burning eyes never leaving mine.

“No, Master! She saved me!”

That caught his attention.

Looking down at the slave at his feet, his brow furrowed as rage and confusion began waging war on his face. “Speak.”

All at once Eris’s words came pouring out, tripping over themselves like each was competing for the last sip of water in a desert. “CrystalandErisweretoldtofoldlinensandIlefttorelievemyselfandSafiracameupwith a knife and…” After that it became impossible for even me to understand the girl as she babbled incoherently, and I had been there.

Joffryn, having heard enough, cut her off with a sharp hissing sound and a gesture. All this seemed to do was let Eris catch her breath. “She was only defending me-”

“SILENCE!” the Master roared, cuffing her across the mouth and sending her to the floor. He stepped forward, levelling a harrowing look at me as he lifted my chin up with the handle of the whip. “Is this true?” he hissed. Unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to think all I could manage was the slightest of nods before he dropped me and left me to dangle.

“Take her to the courtyard! Rigid bracelets. Post,” he commanded as he turned away, and a ragged whine slipped through my lips. The tension in my neck and arms disappeared and I collapsed in a coughing heap. “Clean this mess up,” he ordered roughly to the recently arrived Deka, not waiting to hear the confirmation as he stormed out of the room. The guards dragged me to my feet and Deka managed to give me a dirty look before she began giving orders of her own to small crowd that had come to gawk. Each of them looked at me as if seeing a ghost as I was pulled past them.

In the courtyard the post had already been set up and was waiting for me. Little more than a singular waist high iron rod with three flat legs and a set of rings at the bottom, middle and top of the staff, it was nonetheless one of the more cruel forms of long term punishment due to the dull iron spike the length of a finger that jutted out a few inches from the top. The guards stripped me of my bindings and forced me to my knees, back against the rough iron. Already the dull spike nestled uncomfortably between my shoulder blades. Kneeling on two of the legs, both of my ankles were attached to the bottom ring and my wrists locked into their bindings. The ring at the top was attached to my collar, pulling me in close to the bar and forcing me to thrust my breasts outward as the iron spike dug into my spine. And then, in one last measure of cruelty, one of them pulled my elbows across the past the bar and tied them together, driving the spike further into my back and pulling a scream from my lips.

“Fuck,” I said in English, repeating the word until it became a shout. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!”

All this earned me was another slap across the face and a command to be silent, and without another word they left me. “Fuck...Goddammit…” I said quietly, groaning in pain as the spike began to dig into me, tension already electrifying my muscles.

Way to go, Sarah. Way to fuckin' go. The one card you’ve been keeping close to the chest, the only thing you KNEW they wouldn’t expect, and you play it on a stupid jealous whore and a paper cut. Congratulations, you dumb bitch. You blew it.

Even though I was literally in the middle of the estate night had fallen before before I got a visitor.

“Crystal?” a timid voice called out just in front of me, startling me from the enforced meditation that numbed the constant pain of the post and agony in my muscles, and causing me to jerk painfully into the ever present spike in my back. “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“It’s fine,” I said hoarsely as I did my best to relax and breathe shallowly. “You weren’t interrupting anything.” I finally managed to open my eyes and was greeted by two bright blue eyes inches away from mine. “Eris?”

The girl nodded emphatically and pulled cloth from the basket she carried. “Master says that I should tend to you,” she said as she pressed the cloth to one of my wounds. Whenever the guards had left me, they had neglected to bandage them with anything, whether through malice or apathy. While the bleeding felt like it had mostly stopped, it was hard to tell given that I couldn’t really see any but the one on my boob. I’d lost a lot, that’s for sure.

“Oh good, this slave was beginning to think that she had been forgotten,” I said wryly, my own sarcasm tasting bitter on my lips as I coughed painfully. There was a brief pause as Eris pulled out a fresh bandage, and then I picked up on something.

“Wait...I? When did you start breaking the rules?” I asked, to which she smiled softly and said, “It’s just the two of us. The guards are patrolling the edge of the estate.”

I felt a cut open slightly as she applied the second bandage, winced a little at the pain. It was surprising just how much of an anaesthetic rage and adrenaline were. “How’s Safira?” I asked, desperate for some kind of knowledge about her. With a compound fracture there was a real risk that she could have bled to death. That would be...bad.

“Not well,” she said, worry in her voice as she avoided my eyes. “Master sent word for a doctor in Port Kar via rider, and they arrived a few hours ago. The door has been shut ever since. She was awake, barely, but she had serious difficulty breathing. We managed to stop the bleeding, but…” Eris’ hands stopped working as she paused, and out of the corner of my eye I could see her shudder.

A slow breath escaped my lips that I didn’t realise I had been holding. Somehow knowing didn’t help as much as I thought it would. “Probably broke a rib or two. Maybe her jaw. Definitely blew her elbow out. Didn’t know I could still do that…” It was my turn to pause then as I looked for words that might do...something. Eventually, I gave up and like always said the first thing that came to mind. “Anyway, she deserved it.”

“She deserved it?!” Eris half-shouted, aghast, before glancing around and lowering her volume. “How can you even say that?! She could have died! She still might!”

“Wha-when did we start feeling sympathy for a crazed jealous bitch that tried to murder us??” I shot back, not even trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. “Or have we forgotten that she cut you and me and threatened to do worse? And for what - some kajirae political bullshit that I wasn’t even a part of? I wasn’t the one who got her head slave status revoked and I am sure as shit not responsible for Master to take a shining to me lately! So I’m the favourite now, congrats! There’ll be a different one in a few months or whatever you Goreans call it!”

“That’s not the point! The point is that you could have taken her arm off and now she’s on a bed that she might not get up from!” Eris said, hands on her hips at the edge of my sight. “You didn’t need to do that! You could have shown some restraint! Done something else! A-and maybe if you had waited and kept running like you did the guards would’ve caught her and you wouldn’t be braceleted to the post right now!”

“Oh like I’m supposed to just run away and do nothing while a crazy bitch tries to stab me? Or my best friend? To just let us be attacked and cut up a-and wait for a man to come rescue us? Fuck that! But hey-maybe if you hadn’t pulled her hair that’s exactly what would’ve went down. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Me? Welcome for what?!”

“For saving you! Safira was gonna cut your face or worse and I stopped it! And because I stopped it, I’m strapped to this fucking bar with this fucking spike in my back-”

“Oh so you’re saying it’s my fault that you’re here?”

“Pretty fuckin' much!”

“I-tch, you know what?” Eris said, standing and gathering her basket “If you’re going to be like that, then-”

This was not the direction I meant to take things.

“Wait!” I called out as she turned to go, struggling in the binds and turning my head as best I can to look at her. “Wait, no, just...wait.” The spike in my back dug painfully in as I tried to catch my breath. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just...I’m tired, I’ve been in this thing for hours, I’m probably gonna be here all night, I’m covered in insect bites, and I can’t think straight, and I’m angry and scared-holy fuck am I scared, and I just...I…MMMMPH!” The post rattles and jams the spike further into me as I strain in my bonds during the closed mouth scream.

Spent, my head flops backwards onto the ring at the top and, finding no comfort there, rolls forward. The crazy observation that Venus is particularly bright tonight flits across my mind. “…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you...I shouldn’t’ve said what I did...I’m sorry.”

After a long moment I can hear Eris sigh softly, and then she walks into my field of vision and kneels in front of me. “Hey,” she says, smiling a small sad smile where only one corner of her mouth turns up. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to imply...you didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t your fault that Safira...that she attacked us.” She falls silent and then, wringing the cloth in her hand and avoiding my eyes, she adds, “Thank you.”

I shake my head. “Don’t thank me. I was wrong to use that against you, I’m sorry. You don’t need to thank me.”

“But I do!” she replies, reaching forward and touching the top of my bent thighs. “When she was over me...I was paralysed...I couldn’t even try to block her or...but then you were there…” I didn’t need to see her for me to tell that she’s there in the room right now, reliving it. But when she does break through that mental wall, the look in her eyes is firm, kind. “Thank you. Truly, thank you.”

“No, I-I should be thanking you. You pulled her hair, got her off me and gave me time to think. That was very brave. And! And you called out to warn me! Otherwise I’d have a new hole in my back!” A soft giggle bubbles up but is quickly choked off as the spike rudely reintroduces itself. “A different hole in my back,” I say, my grimace turning into a wry grin.

Eris, under no such torture, is free to laugh softly. “Well, I guess that means that you owe me one then.” she says matter of factly.

“...I guess it does…”

Silence filled the air as Eris resumed bandaging me. “So...did you mean what you said?” she asks as she works her way places a bandage on the gash on my stomach. “About me being your best friend.”

“Yeah...I did,” I said softly, nodding.

“Oh…” she says, seemingly surprised by my response.

Before the silence can build again, I blurt out, “I don’t regret it.”

Eris’s hands pause. “Huh?”

“What I did to her. To Safira. I don’t regret it.” Quickly before Eris can speak, I elaborate. “She threatened you. Hurt you. Hurt me. She was a smug, petty, rotten bitch high on her own power, and I don’t care what Master does to me. I don’t regret it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Eris says with a sigh, wrapping one of the cuts on my arm. “I’ve never seen him so angry.”

I scoffed. “Why, just because a pair of his slaves got cut up and a third got her arm broken? The other girls have told me that spats like this happen, that masters don’t usually get involved-”

“Not usually, no,” Eris interrupted, “but this one is bad. The worst I’ve seen or heard about in a long time.”

The chain connecting my collar to the post rattles as I turn and look at her through the corner of my eye. “Really? No one’s broken an arm before?”

“Not like you did, no. And to make matters worse, all this happened during a very important meeting with a noble from Port Kar!”

“Oh shit…” I say, the bottom dropping out of my already empty stomach. This is worse than I thought.

“Yeah, oh shit. Rumour has it that it was a magistrate or a judge come to speak about Master possibly joining the legislative body of the city! Now it looks like-”

“-like he can’t keep his own house in order,” I finish, the weight of her implications turning my stomach over in dread. If I was hungry before, I certainly wasn’t now.

“Exactly! Master has called for a hearing tomorrow to prove that he can manage and judge a formal trial for his important guest! If things don’t go right, then...I don’t know what he’ll do to you…”

“Fuck me…” Without thinking, I lean back onto the pole binding me. Right now the spike was the least of my worries.

“I don’t think a beating is going to satisfy him this time, Crystal,” Eris says, scooting around to face me. Worry fills her eyes. “I think he might…”

“...might kill me,” I finish for her. A familiar dull greyness begins to seep through my mind, and I stop looking at the terrified girl in front of me. Stop looking at everything really.

“Death might be a mercy, now,” I hear myself saying.

“What? Don’t say such things!”

“It’d be a welcome release from this Hell,” my voice continues, hollow and flat.

“Stop it!” A sharp bright flash of pain slaps across my cheek, shocking me back into awareness. My eyes refocus on Eris in front of me, finger an inch from my nose and a fire in her eyes. “I am not losing my best friend so close after finding her! So don’t!”

All I can do is blink. “Oh...okay…” I say weakly, at a loss for any other words. Only on Gor could you be slapped by the person you just called your best friend. “Well, what do we do?”

“Only thing we can,” she says, shrugging. “Tell the truth. We tell them everything that happened, how you got between her and me, how you defended me with courage and competency of a man-”

“What? No!” I interrupt, my voice raised in panic. “That’ll make things even worse!”

“How?” she asks, clearly not expecting my resistance.

“If they think even for a second that I might be dangerous they’re sure to kill me!” A little colour fled from her face. She knew I spoke the truth.

“You can’t tell them that I looked like I knew what I was doing. The less it seems like that the better,” I pressed.

Even more colour drained from her face. “You’re asking me to lie?” Eris asked anxiously. Slaves were not supposed to lie or hide anything from their masters; to do so was a grave offence

“No, of course not!” I replied reassuringly. “Just...how well do you think you could describe exactly what happened?”

“...not very well?” she said hesitantly, still unsure about where I was going with this.

“Exactly! Just stick to that! You were cowering, had your eyes closed until it was over, it happened too fast, you were too scared to remember, something like that. They’re not gonna question that, it fits right into what they already believe about us!”

“Crystal…” she said dubiously, fear still plain on her face. Still hated that name.

“Please?” I pleaded. “If the specifics of what I did is revealed they’ll think I’m dangerous.” And they’d be right to think so.

There was a pregnant pause as Eris studied me, weighing my life against the punishment she would be given if she was caught. “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll try.”

I let out the breath I had been holding. I started to slouch in relief, but the spike kept me from relaxing too much. “Thank you, Eris.”

Her eyes lowered to the floor as she gave a gentle nod before returning to her task. The last of my cuts bandaged, her hands dropped to her lap and she glanced to the entryway of the courtyard, chewing nervously on her lip. Once it was clear that no one was coming, she blurted out, “So how did you do it?”

A knot started to form in my stomach. “With Safira?” I asked, wishing that she was talking about my mad laundry folding skills.

“Yes! How did you do that? That was AMAZING!” she gushed, eyes glittering with excitement. “The way you fought her, threw her around like she was made of paper? Weren’t you scared?”

“Eris,” I said, drawing her name out in exasperation.

“She was swinging a knife at you and you made her look like an angry child! Where did that come from?? Have you been watching the guards train or did you learn that back on-”

“Stop,” I said in English. This was not a conversation I wanted to have. How was I supposed to explain to her how close I was to joining the UFC just before she had to risk lying to the man who could kill both of us on a whim? “I’ve done nothing but think about this since it happened. Please?”

The mildly hurt look she gave me ripped my frustration away from me. “I promise, I’ll answer any questions you have. Just, not right now? Please?”

Eris let out a sigh and cocked her head to the side as her face softened. “Promise?” she asked meekly.

I waved my right hand to draw her attention to it, then placed my thumb over the fingernail of my smallest finger. “Promise.”

That seemed to satisfy her. Bouncing a little as if she’d only just remembered something she had forgotten, Eris reached around for her basket. “Master said that you were to receive no food until tomorrow, but I managed to sneak this out from the kitchen,” she said as she pulled a wet sponge from the wicker basket.

Biting into it as she held it up to my face, a powerful tartness filled my mouth as I sucked greedily. “Is this...vinegar?” I asked, surprised. Suddenly very conscious of another vinegar soaked sponge, I began to laugh. A deep, gut busting laugh usually reserved for the drunk or crazy. “Jesus fucking Christ, really? That’s rich!”

“Uhh, who?” Eris asked, having picked up on the humour without understanding what made it funny.

“Jesus,” I insisted dumbly after my laughter abated and I took another mouthful of the sour liquid. “Son of God, walks on water, heals the sick?” I elaborated once the blank look Eris gave me in return registered. “You’ve never heard of him?”

“Uh, no,” she answers sheepishly, offering an embarrassed little smile. “Who is he?”

“Oh. Well, he’s a God. Or, a demigod. A hero of men. A saviour,” I explained. “He came down from Heaven to Earth, to save mankind from themselves.”

“Like the Priest-Kings?” Eris asked. Did Goreans have deities outside of the Priest-Kings? I’d have to ask one day when I wasn’t being blinded by pain.

“Uh, not quite,” I said, mimicking her earlier embarrassment. “Jesus was a Man. And God. Together. It’s complicated.” Boy, am I butchering this.

“Anyway, he was really powerful and could perform all sorts of miracles. He could heal the sick by speaking to them, turn water to wine, calm raging storms. Even bring the dead back to life.”

Eris sat there as I spoke, raising her eyebrows in amazement. Whether real or feigned, she made a good audience. “Wow. What happened to him?”

“He...he died,” I said, the smile running away from my face. “They crucified him…”

Eris’s smile faltered. She knew what that was. Gor was a harsh world still ruled by the sword. Worse still, we both knew it could happen to me.

“They beat him with whips till his flesh came off like strips of meat,” I continued, my voice suddenly quivering, a lump forming in my throat. Through the constant painful tension I could feel the lash of the whip on my back even now. “They dragged him through the streets and nailed him to the cross.” My eyes latched onto the sponge Eris held. Mist formed in my eyes as my voice continued to break. “And the last thing they gave him before he died was...was a…”

The girl looked at the sponge in her hand and as realisation and horror spread across her face she dropped it as if it were a viper. “Oh! Oh no!”

But it was far too late.

I felt her hands cradle me as best they could given my bondage. My cries were muffled by her shoulder and she held me as I wept. The torture, the humiliation, the enslavement, the waiting for death, it was all too much.

“I want to go home!" I sobbed into Eris's shoulder in between ragged, mournful wails. "I want to go home. I wanna go home…”

By the time Eris left me my tears had run dry. But because of my predicament there was no rest for me. Only a thoughtless, dreamless haze with pain as my only companion.

Dawn came and went without my noticing. It was only with the shuffling of movement, and a lot of it, that I was drawn from my despondency. Every slave that Joffryn owned began to gather about the edge of the courtyard, coming from the house like a funeral procession before settling to their knees, backs to the wall. Guards arrived then, carrying a second post much like the one I was bound to. Two of them grabbed me by my arms and roughly slid me and my post to the side. I cried out in pain as the spike jammed into me and my long suffering muscles flared to life, sending my world white. By the time that I composed myself enough to open my eyes, the second post had been placed beside me, where it sat waiting. Hungry. It seemed that we would both be guilty until proven innocent.

I saw then two slaves carry in a bench that had been found, and they placed it before me at what was evidently the head of our little makeshift “court.” Then several men came out of the house. Two I did not recognise; one, a short pudgy man with a receding hairline and extravagant cloth, the other had short hair and vicious eyes, and carried a sword. A third man was with them, who at first I did not recognise, but then I saw a familiar face. Jan of Clan Narik, come to see me off.

Then, flanked by two guards, came the master of the house. Joffryn of House Tyrosia. Despite the noon day sun filling the courtyard, a shadow seemed to pass over all who had gathered. He looked at me then, and if I could I would have shrank back into some small shadow and stayed there until I was dragged out. With barely a second glance the giant of a man calmly strode forward and sat in the middle of the bench, back straight and hands on his knees. Then he looked to the guard by the entryway and lifted his hand, beckoning.

Immediately another guard came out, pulling Safira by the chain attached to her collar. Her face was badly bruised, her mouth was filled with what looked like cotton balls, the arm I had broken was in a sling, and she was favouring one leg. It seemed that knee kick had done something.

As soon as she laid eyes on me her face grew dark with anger, but that changed when she saw the post next to me. “Master,” she said, unbidden, her words muffled and slurred from the bandage in her mouth. “My arm, my leg…”

“No one gave you permission to speak,” Joffryn said without shifting his gaze. “And the doctor will heal you again if you are found innocent.”

The terrified girl let out a throaty whimper as she was dragged across the courtyard. The guard at my side joined his fellow as they forced her to her knees, eliciting a scream. Another howl of pain was sounded as they roughly grabbed her by the arms and without caring for her injuries locked her in the same position I had endured all night.

Okay, I’ll admit it. I didn’t like the girl, but that was a little fucked. Just in case I had forgotten that the man on the bench in front of me about to condemn me to death was the biggest asshole I had ever met.

With the even-toned voice of a man discussing the weather, Master Joffryn spoke. “Safira.” Safira continued to whine as she trembled in her bonds. “Master…”

“You will tell me what led you to this moment.”

And with that Safira began spouting some serious bullshit. Instead of listening to her I felt that a better use of my limited time left on Gor would be to watch as closely as I could the reactions from whoever I could see. With the master’s focus squarely on the girl on the post next to me some of them felt safe enough to whisper among themselves. Some of the slaves seemed to be buying her story, others shook their heads in skepticism. More than a few faces were smug with superiority now that the queen bee was being laid low.

The men’s faces also gave a lot away. The well dressed man, who I assumed to be the magistrate, never took his eyes off of Joffryn, as if watching a performance or listening to an interview. Jan, the doctor, kept flicking his eyes between the Master and Safira, a clinical disinterest masking his beliefs. And the last, the soldier, seemed to be enjoying himself, smiling and casually popping grapes into his mouth as if he were watching a dance or a play. Watching Safira as if she were a deer and he the wolf, his eyes slid towards me. I swiftly lowered my eyes as was proper, but it was too late; he’d seen me looking at him. Fuck.

“And then my Master came in…” Safira finished, whimpering in pain. Thank God, she was done.

“And what about the knife?” Joffryn asked, pressing her.

“Cr-Crystal already had it when Safira came in,” she lied.

“And how do you suppose she got it?” Joffryn retorted, his face narrowing in anger and suspicion.

“She-she must have stolen it and hidden it in the linens,” Safira stuttered, quickly filling in the holes to her own story. “It’s well known that she isn’t happy, perhaps she is planning an escape attempt!”

That bitch! It was my turn to be pissed. If I hadn’t been locked to this bar I’d have broken her other arm! As it was I only just barely maintained my silence.

Joffryn snorted, though what that meant I couldn’t tell. “Eris,” he called out, and the girl swiftly stood from her position on the wall and scampered forward, prostrating herself in the empty space between Safira and I.

“She is here, Master.”

“Give your account of yesterday’s violence.”

Sitting back onto her heels, Eris begins to speak. “Crystal and Eris were tasked by Mistress Deka to fold the linens that had been hung to dry. We gathered them and made our way to the storage room to begin folding. Eris left Crystal in order to relieve herself, when she passed Safira. She was holding her hand close to her thigh in a suspicious manner, so Eris decided to follow her.

“She arrived back to the storage room to see Crystal with her back exposed working, and Safira approaching with a knife raised high, intending to stab her. Eris called out Crystals name and…”

“Continue,” Joffryn said once it became clear that Eris had gotten stuck on her words.

“Eris called out Crystals name, and then Safira attacked her,” the girl said, glancing sideways at the glowering Safira. “Safira pinned her to the table, but Crystal freed herself and began backing away. She had already been cut. Safira threatened her, attacked her again.

“Eris pulled her hair, tried to keep her from killing Crystal, when she turned on me. Safira cut me, Master, and threatened me. She raised the knife above me, and Eris closed her eyes.”

The girl glanced my way now, and was visibly trembling. Now or never, Eris. I won’t blame you if you backed out now.

“Eris heard a frightful ruckus, and screaming,” she continued, returning her gaze to the Master on the bench. “When she opened her eyes, Safira’s arm was broken, and there was so much blood…” Her hands covered her mouth as she relived the moment before she remembered her place and returned them to her thighs. Surely Joffryn would forgive that transgression.

“Crystal took the knife from her, began backing away. She was as shocked as Eris was. She looked at me, and…and that’s when the guards came in. That’s when my Master arrived.”

Joffryn nodded soberly, the wheels turning in his head as he evaluated her testimony. “So Safira had the knife, you say.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And she threatened the both of you.”

“Yes, Master. First Crystal, then Eris.”

“What did she say?”

“Umm…” Eris paused, blinking. She shook her head as if trying to rattle something loose. “S-s-she does not remember the exact words, Master…”

“Give us what you remember, Eris,” he gently encouraged, his tone softening and empathetic.

“S-s-she said, something about my Master never looking at Crystal the same way again, and against me she threatened to do to me what she would do to Crystal.”

“And why would she say this?”

“Kajirae squabbling, Master,” Eris replied, shaking and uncertain now. “Master would surely not be-”

“Don’t presume to know what I am or am not interested in,” Master warned sternly, raising a finger to the trembling Eris. “Answer the question I have asked.”

“Yes Master! S-sorry Master!” she quickly responded. “There is much talk about Master favouring Crystal over Safira now, and Safira was jealous. And Safira was recently removed from her position of first girl, which was a further embarrassment.”

“And what of the fight itself, after Safira threatened you?”

“She, she remembers nothing, Master,” Eris says, looking down to the floor as she does so.

“Eris,” Master said harshly, leaning forward and fixing a dangerous stare on the girl.

“She doesn’t remember!” Eris cried, prostrating herself again. “Her eyes were shut, she did not see! She was scared! She didn’t want to die!”

“Master Joffryn, if I may,” the vicious-eyed man said, smile still on his face. “When faced with death many women and slaves in particular cower in fear much like Eris is doing now. It would not surprise me if this was her reaction.”

Joffryn chewed on his tongue as he peered at the girl’s back. Finally he waved his hand in dismissal. Eris quickly got to her feet and practically ran back to her spot on the wall. I let out a relieved breath. I owed her for this.

“Deka,” Joffryn called out, the trial continuing on as if nothing happened. On and on it went. Deka spoke about how she had given me and Eris orders, Taslimah spoke about how she had helped Safira serve Joffryn and his guest their lunch, Malika spoke about them returning and the platter missing a knife, Kamaria saw Eris scream in the hallway and ran for help. The guard captain gave his version of events, which unsurprisingly had me as the aggressor. The words of a free man carried more weight than the words of a slave, but with so many of us telling similar stories, was it enough?

“Master Jan of Clan Narik.” That’s unexpected. Why would he call the doctor?

Jan made his way slowly to his feet and stepped forward until he was standing before Joffryn. Given that he was a free man, instead of standing between me and Safira he had taken the empty space between us and our Master, standing calmly nearby. “Yes, Master Joffryn?”

“What can you tell me of Safira’s injuries?”

“Blunt force trauma,” Jan says with a cool professionalism. “Specifically a hairline fracture of the jaw, three lost teeth, significant bruising around the eye, nose and face, two broken ribs, a dislocated knee, dislocated elbow and a compound fracture of the bones of the forearm. All injuries are consistent with the use of blunt force trauma, and are common training and wartime injuries of unarmed combatants.”

Oh shit.

“So you’re saying that you believe Crystal beat her as if she were a warrior?”

“I can make no judgement as to whether or not there was skill or training involved, but the injuries are consistent with a level of martial competency, yes.”

Oh shit!

“Was there any evidence that Safira had been attacked by an assailant wielding a knife?”

“No such injuries were present upon my examination, sir.”

“Can you examine Crystal’s injuries please?”

At that Jan turned on his heel and marched toward me. Dropping to a knee as he takes the bandages from my chest and stomach, I can see my fear-filled eyes staring back at me in the dull reflection of his eye lenses. Moving behind me to inspect the wounds on my arms, I can feel blood begin to seep out of the day-old slashes.

Finished with his inspection, Jan stepped around me and returned to his position before Joffryn. “Crystal’s injuries are primarily knife or blade inflicted, defensive in posture with many scores along the hands and arms. Also present were skinned knuckles consistent with the application of blunt force trauma, more specifically the use of a punch. There were no breaks or fractures that I could feel, though without a more thorough examination it is hard to be certain that none exist.”

“So you’re saying that she was attacked with a knife and defended herself?”

Safira’s head dropped, and tears were on her cheeks.

“Correct sir. My professional opinion is that Safira attacked Crystal with a knife, and that Crystal in response performed unarmed combat to defend herself and neutralise her attacker.”

That was it then. The doctors words neutralised the guard captains, and everything else added up to Safira attacking me and Eris.

“Thank you Master Jan,” Joffryn said, and with a short bow Jan of Clan Narik returned to his seat. That left only me.

“Crystal.”

God I hate that name.

“H-here, Master.”

“Explain your version of the events.”

“W-well, it’s like Eris said,” I started, reflexively gulping now that his ire was focused on me. Even though I frequently behaved in a manner that he found displeasing, this level of anger was something I usually tried to avoid. “Eris and Crystal were ordered to gather and fold the laundry. We did so, when Eris left to relieve herself.”

“She was folding laundry and singing to herself when Eris called out her name in warning. I turned and saw Safira above me with a knife. She attacked me, pinned me to the table. I got free, and managed to lodge the knife into the table as I did so. Safira threatened me, said that Master would not be able to look at me when she was finished, and attacked again. Eris stepped up and pulled her hair, distracting her. She got cut for her trouble. Eris collapsed on the ground, cowering. Safira stood over her, threatened her with the knife, and...and I saw red.”

Now for the hard part…

“The next thing I remember, I had the knife in my hands, my back to the wall, and Safira was laying in a puddle of blood, crying. I looked at Eris, and the guards came in. You came in, Master.”

“So you remember nothing of how her arm was broken, how you inflicted these injuries?” Joffryn asked, clearly not buying it.

“Yes, Master.”

He stared at me, suspicious and furious. “Do not lie to me Crystal. Your punishment will be ten-fold if you do!”

“C-C-Crystal would never lie to you Master!” I lied, but with no need to fake the fear. I was more afraid of the truth right now than any punishment he threatened.

“Where did you learn to do this?”

“S-sir?”

“This skill Master Jan spoke of! I am no stranger to war and conflicts of men, I know how a warrior fights!” He raised a finger at me, pointing and accusatory. “Breaking bones is no easy feat, and you did it as if they were dry kindling for a fire. Where did you learn this?!”

“On Earth, Master!” I cried in terror, and immediately the bottom of my stomach fell out. The other slaves gasped and chattered to themselves, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Eris begin to pale.

Fuck. I didn't mean to say that. Now I had to improvise.

“Explain,” Master said, barely containing his rage.

Here goes nothing.

“S-s-she saw a flyer for a women’s self defence course, and she enrolled in a class. She thought it would be fun...” That was more or less true; seeing the look on the other guys face was a lot of fun.

“What did you learn in this class?”

“It was so long ago Crystal thought she forgot-”

“Explain it!” he shouted.

“How to defend against a knife! How to create distance and to escape!” I wailed, desperate. It was too late to go back now. “Please, Master! She did no know that she remembered! She could not do it again if she tried! She only wanted to save Eris! She is no threat to Master!”

“Of course you aren’t,” he scoffed. “You’re a slave.”

God I hate him. I was going to prove him wrong one day.

“That does not explain how you managed to injure Safira so,” he continued. But before he could press further, the man in the expensive clothes spoke for the first time that day.

“Master Joffryn, if I may. Your slave has well defined muscles, appears to be quite strong. And Earth-born are always stronger than native Goreans. Just from looking at her I’d say that she was capable of breaking the bones of another slave if she felt the fear and anger that she speaks of.”

“Adrenaline does cause a significant spike in strength,” Jan concurred. “We call it fight-or-flight. The body and mind become hyper focused on survival. This is true no matter the gender or size.”

Nodding vigorously, I took a risk and began speaking as Jan finished. “It is as the Master said! Crystal has always been strong, Master! Always cared a great deal about her body! A trait that the Master valued, purchased her for even! The exercises and dance lessons that she undergoes for her training do not satisfy her, she trains alone in what free time she has in order to maintain her physique. In order to remain pleasing, Master…”

God I hate grovelling.

All of this seemed to sway Joffryn, who sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at me. Calculating. He looked to his left, where Deka the head slave knelt. She gave a slow nod; she had interrupted me more than once. Thankfully never when I practiced the forms and skills that put me here.

“Rannam, you have hunted slaves on Earth before. Have you seen these ‘self defence’ lessons that she speaks of?” he asked, looking to the vicious eyed man. His smile had grown wider and still eating his grapes as if my life on trial was a fucking game!

Without getting up, he looked at Joffryn casually and said, “There are such courses advertised, it’s true. They are popular in the cities and small towns as a form of recreation. I find it believable that she would have enrolled in one.” That smile grew wider as he turned his attention to me. “Nothing that would threaten a man of Gor, of course. They play at war and fight like children. Even their soldiers could not match one of us.”

Prick.

Joffryn glowered at me. “I will choose to believe you. Prove that choice a mistake, and you will live long enough to regret betraying my trust.”

“Y-yes, Master,” I said, swallowing. A weight lifted from my shoulders.

Suddenly Joffryn stood, began walking toward me until I had to strain to look him in the eyes. He roughly grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced my neck back. I made no effort to hide the pain.

“You are a slave. Not a warrior,” he said forcefully.

The hell I am.

“Yes, Master.”

“What do you have to say?” he asked.

“N-nothing, Master.”

“Wrong,” he spat. “You will thank your master for showing you the error of your ways.”

Mother. Fucker.

“T-thank you Master,” I heard myself saying, “for showing me my error.”

“What else?”

“T-thank you, Master, for showing me your affection,” I said through gritted teeth.

“What are you?” he asked.

Fuck. This. Shit.

“I am a slave girl,” I answered automatically.

“What is a slave girl?”

“A girl who is owned,” I reply, like they had taught me to reply.

Rage boiled up inside me. The cheering of the crowd filled my ears.

“Why do you wear a brand?”

Because a mother fucker put it on me without my consent.

“To show that I am owned.” Such was the answer that they expected from me.

“Why do you wear a collar?”

So that I can choke you with the chain that you attach to it with only one hand.

“That men may know who owns me,” I say, my voice velvet.

“What does a slave girl want more than anything?”

Freedom. Total and absolute. A hot fudge sundae would be nice too.

“To please men.” As is proper.

“What are you?”

The bullet in the gun you are playing Russian Roulette with.

“I am a slave girl,” I reply meekly, accepting.

“What do you want more than anything?”

To kill you.

“To please men,” I say, like a good kajira should.

“Do not forget it,” Joffryn said roughly as he pushes my head away. The spike in my back flairs at the pressure, and a groan of pain that might have been a growl of rage escapes my lips.

Do not give them anything. Be water. Wait for the opportune moment.

Words I hadn’t told myself in a long fucking time. Words I believed with everything in my core.

Returning to the bench, Joffryn looks at both of us, bound to the post like we are. “Safira. Everything that has been said today leads me to believe that you are the aggressor.”

“No,” she cries. “No!”

“You have assaulted my property, lied to your Master,” he says, his voice firm and condemning.

“Please, Master!”

“Your fate will be decided later. Take her away!”

At his command, the two guards watching over us bent and freed the crying woman, giving no pause to her screams of pain as they grabbed her roughly by the arms and drag her away.

Good, bitch. I hope it hurts.

“Crystal.”

“Yes, Master,” I hiss.

“That is no longer your name.”

Thank God.

“Your name is Adira.”

My name is Sarah. Sarah. Fucking. Holloway. And I’ll carve it into your forehead.

“My name is Adira,” I answer.

“Eris, Deka, release her.”

Half a second later I nearly fall on my face, free of the infernal device that plagued me for what seems like an eternity. Hands reach to my arms as Joffryn orders that I be fed and rested, that my wounds be tended to.

I hold out a hand to stop them. Reaching to the back of my knee, I drag my leg forward until my foot, burning with feeling after so long asleep, plants firmly on the ground. My hand grips my knee, the heaviest thing I have ever lifted, and my muscles scream in fury as I command them to obey.

Slowly, painfully, I rise.

My world is fire. Every step I take feels like stepping on red hot knives fresh from the forge. But I walk, with not a word or sound of complaint.

I can feel everyone staring at me. Many are unable to stand after a third of the time that I spent on the post. Even Rannam seems shocked. Good. Let them think of me as the bad ass bitch that I am.

“Adira,” I said, rolling the name around in my mouth as I left the courtyard behind, a small entourage in tow. “What does it mean?”

“Strong,” I hear Deka say, a slight awe in her voice. “Mighty, and strong.”

A hyena’s growl and laugh emerges from my lips. “I like it,” I said through bared teeth.

A slave attacked me with a knife and I broke her as if she were a stick in a storm.

I spent a day and a night on the post, bound in rigid bracelets, and walked away with neither help nor complaint.

My name is Adira. My name is Howling Sarah Holloway.

I WILL be free.