Ubara of Gor Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: Yishana nearly kills me. Several times in fact.

Unless you are a slave yourself you will probably not understand how effective a punishment 'close chains' at night can be. Close chains is simply the chaining of a slave's wrists and ankles with typically one to three steel links between the wrist and ankle cuffs. If that sounds a very passive punishment then you have never felt the effects of being chained like that for eight to ten hours and you can consider yourself fortunate.

To begin with it is simply bondage but after a while cramp sets in and you desperately shift position where you lie to ease your sore muscles. I had been back braceleted and that made it difficult to lie down comfortably on the deck. I couldn't lie on my back with my wrists in the way so I lay alternately on my left side and then my right side. I couldn't get to sleep because having my ankles chained together and my wrists secured behind my back was an unnatural position for sleeping. What little flexibility I had with the three chain links meant I was constantly shifting and trying to stretch as best I could.

I had been returned to the Larl from the streets of Schendi by an angry Simon who had refused to listen to my pathetic and desperate muffled sounds as I was led further and further away from my sister. To his mind I was simply acting up again – another hissy fit from Emma, and coming so soon after many months in which I'd been petty and spiteful towards him during his slavery, he felt no desire to pander to my hysterical reaction. He marched me up the gang plank in full sight of the crew and the other slaves, tugging on my leash when I tried to pull away.

Naomi saw this and came straight over.

“Has there been a problem with Emma, Master?” She could see my gag, my braceleted wrists and the way I was still struggling against the leash.

“Yes. She caused a scene at the slaver house. I've long since given up trying to understand Emma's mood swings. I had gagged her earlier and she seemed accepting of it, but while I was conducting business with the selling of our excess girls, Emma became hysterical. I concluded business and brought her back. Frankly I'm sick of her acting in this way.”

Naomi regarded me as I stared frantically over the gag, making piteous mewling sounds. I had to tell them that Bea was my sister! The Larl would set sail again in the morning on the high tide and would not return to Schendi for another six months or so.

“Do you wish her whipped, Master?” asked Naomi.

“No.” Simon regarded me with a resigned expression. “But put her in close chains tonight. Let her lie awake and reconsider her behaviour. You're a slave, Emma.” He addressed that last sentence to me. “I'm not going to tolerate these hissy fits any more. Next time you will be whipped, understand?”

I sobbed, knowing I would have no chance to say anything before the Larl set sail. I would lose Bea. The threat of a whipping seemed almost irrelevant now. I pressed my forehead against Naomi's shoulder in a move that surprised her. It seemed my only way to communicate that something was wrong.

Naomi glanced at me and then at Simon. “Master, it's not my place to suggest anything, but perhaps we should hear what Emma wants to say?”

“I'm not going to reward her behaviour. She can talk again in the morning. The gag stays on until then. It's supposed to be a punishment.”

In the morning Naomi came to check on me. I must have looked wretched as she sighed and placed a pan of water close to where I lay.

“Good morning, Emma,” said Naomi as she knelt beside me. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

I shook my head negatively. My body was either numb or aching, depending on how I lay.

“Of course you didn’t. Close chaining is not pleasant, is it?”

I whimpered and shook my head again. That was putting it mildly!

“You wouldn’t want another night of close chaining, would you?”

Again I shook my head.

“Are you going to behave yourself now?” She tapped my thigh softly with her slave crop. I nodded quickly, wanting her to understand I wouldn’t cause a scene. Just, please, let me free!

“If I remove your gag will you remember not to speak unless I ask you a question?”

I nodded slowly.

“I don’t believe you,” said Naomi as she gazed into my eyes. She began to get up and now I began nodding vigorously.

“Oh? Well, understand this: if I hear one word from you without a question to prompt it, the gag will go back on you and you will spend the rest of the day and the night in close chains. Understand?”

I nodded vigorously again.

“So then,” Naomi began to unbuckle the horrid gag and removed it as I choked and spat out the wadding attachment. I dry retched on the deck for a few moments which Naomi allowed. I gazed up as she gave me some water to drink and drank it slowly as Naomi held the tin cup in place. Then Naomi produced a key and unlocked my ankles. I moaned in pain as I stretched my legs after being confined for so long. Naomi then unlocked my bracelets and again the pain was excruciating as I moved my dead arms. Naomi set to work massaging my limbs, understanding how I must feel right now. After ten minutes or so I was able to move into some semblance of a kneeling position before the first girl. I gazed up at her with a pleading expression, hoping to speak before the Larl set sail. Already I could see Askaris manning the rigging as the morning tide slapped against our hull. I had little hope that the Larl would be delayed for even ten minutes, let alone enough time for me to run and find my sister, but I wasn’t prepared to give up. I made a soft mewl of sound to express the urgency that I needed to speak. Naomi recognised this and nodded. “You may speak now, Emma.”

“My sister is in Schendi! She is a slaver in the slave house! I don’t know how she is on Gor, because she is a barbarian like me, but please, Naomi, she didn’t know who I was! Please let me speak to her!”

“This is the reason why you acted the way you did yesterday?” asked Naomi as she stroked my hair to calm me.

“Yes! I was gagged when we entered the slaver house, otherwise I could have made myself known to Bea. I had no way of telling her!”

“You are sure you saw your sister? Free women can often be mistaken for one another. The veils and robes are confusing.”

“I know my sister. I would know her anywhere. Her voice and the way she spoke was unmistakeable.”

“I see. Then why did she not recognise you, Emma? There were no robes or veils masking your identity?”

“I…” what could I say without telling Naomi what she didn’t know, and what I didn't really want her to know: that on Earth I hadn’t exactly looked like this? I blushed, feeling ashamed of what I had been back on Earth. I hated the thought of my old self – loathed it to a state that it made me feel sick to my stomach to think what I had once looked like. I wanted only to be thought of like this. As Emma. I wanted to forget my past. I wanted to forget the body that had so revolted me. “It’s… complicated…”

“The free woman didn’t recognise you?”

“No… but she didn’t really look at me. I was just a slave. Free women don’t look at slaves…” it was the best excuse I could come up with at short notice.

“Perhaps it wasn’t really your sister, then, Emma.” Naomi gave me some more water to drink, but I waved it away.

“It was! Please believe me, Mistress. It was her. I have no doubt.”

“I find this hard to believe if she didn’t recognise you, but even so, let’s assume you are right, kajira, what then?”

“Please… I have to see her, I have to speak to her…”

“To what end? Hmm?” Naomi put her arm around my shoulder and hugged me for comfort. “What do you think will happen? Do you think she will be pleased to see her sister a slave? She will either be distressed or she will hate what you have become – the shame you have brought to your family.”

“She would not hate me. I know she wouldn’t hate me.”

“Then let us suppose she will be upset seeing you like this. What then? Do you think she will buy you? Set you free? No, Emma. The Ubara would not sell you. Your sister would be powerless to help you in any way. You belong to the Larl. Your sister would see you led away and she would be more upset than not knowing you were in Schendi in the first place. Isn’t it better to let her live in peace? Why distress her unduly?”

“Please, Mistress… please…” I cried, clutching the first girl, begging her for help.

“And what? You expect me to order the Larl to remain in the harbour? You think I can order the ship to drop anchor because a kajira wishes to remain in the city for another day? Is that what you think?”

“No…” I cried some more. Of course she couldn’t do that. The ship would sail in ten minutes or so. Naomi couldn’t stop that.

“So you see, you will have to accept this, Emma. I know it is hard, but life can be hard for us. It's better this way. Your sister at least need not be upset like you.”

“I hate this,” I sobbed. “I hate this collar! I hate being a slave!”

“And yet the collar is on you and will remain on you, and you will remain a kajira. A dutiful and obedient and pleasing kajira. You cannot let the men see you like this. Do you understand?”

“This is so hard.”

“Life is hard, Emma. But your life is better than most. You are a favoured girl on the greatest ram ship in the Thassa, owned by a woman who doesn’t hate slave girls. That is something. Emma,” Naomi thought for a moment. “I’m going to excuse you from work this morning. Come with me.” She rose and held out her hand which I took with some hesitation. Naomi pulled me on to my feet, steadying my stance as my legs still felt weak from the close chaining and then she led me to some piles of sackcloth on the sunny side of the vessel. “Sit.” She patted the sail cloth. “Tell me about your sister. Let her live in your spoken words.”

“She…” I hesitated, not knowing where to begin. “She was always there for me when I grew up. Bea is older than me by several years and I always looked up to her. She’s the daughter of Marcellus, the renowned warrior.”

Naomi smiled but I could tell from her expression that she had no idea who Marcellus was.

“I’m the… daughter… of Marcellus too. I never shared his caste obviously, nor did Bea. I have a brother who did though.” I thought of Alan, my younger brother and his eagerness even as a small boy to join the British army. “Bea was… she looked out for me. I found life hard because my father left us when I was young. My mother found that difficult to take. They had been devoted… free companions… and, it broke her. I hated my father for what he had done, abandoning us. I hated him with a passion. I was very unhappy to begin with, but Bea looked after me.”

“That is good, Emma. You can be proud of her. But she is free. You are not. You shouldn’t think of her as your sister any more. Not really. You are livestock. She would not want to be reminded of a past family connection.”

“No… Bea isn’t like that. She would love me unconditionally. I can’t believe she’s so close! Just a mile away! And I’m trapped here.”

“Your reunion would only bring her sorrow. You would be parted from her again. It is better this way. Better for her. And better for you, because you might be surprised how she would see you now. You think differently, but if she has been a free woman on Gor for some time then her experiences will have changed her. You say she is a slaver?”

“Yes… I don’t understand that. How could Bea be a slaver?”

“So…. It is impossible that she would view slaves as anything more than slaves. She could not work otherwise. You would be an embarrassment to her. She would resent you. Resent what you are. She would see you and she would perhaps see what she could have been if circumstances had been different. Free women do not like to be reminded what fate may have dealt out in another life.”

“She loves me…”

“She loved you when you were free, Emma. Now things are different. What you hoped for is not what might have happened. You were a first girl once, weren't you?”

I nodded.

“You know we look after our girls as well as ensure they are obedient. We're not monsters.” Naomi smiled as she continued to stroke my hair. “I actually want you to be happy, Emma. Happy in your collar. I've seen you laughing and excited these past few months on board the Larl. I know slavery can be hard, but I've seen you happy enough times to know this isn't a nightmare existence for you. How often have I whipped you?”

“Hardly ever, Mistress.”

Naomi nodded. “I don't like to whip girls. It's a last resort. I know you're upset right now. I can imagine how upset you must be, but it will pass. You have a different life now. You need to forget the woman you once were when you were free. That woman no longer exists. You may be surprised to hear this, but I love my collar. I'm glad I'm a slave.”

I must have looked surprised for Naomi laughed softly. “That's right, Emma. I love my collar. My life now is so much better than if I had remained free. I come from a small village in the jungle interior – the third of four daughters, with three brothers. Before I was taken in a raid, my life was dull and claustrophobic. My mother and father doted on their sons and felt their daughters were a burden. We could not fight. We were just extra mouths to feed. My life was mapped out for me. When I was just a young girl my sisters and I faced a life where we would be the companions of whichever hunter or warrior would have us. Then the responsibility for our upkeep would belong to another man. My entire existence came with one goal – to be found demurely pleasing by a man strong enough to look after me. I could do nothing, I would be permitted to do nothing that might sully the name of my family or reduce my chance to be selected as a companion. When I used to run barefoot in the jungle as a small girl, climbing trees and laughing with some of the tribal boys of my own age I was whipped by my father. That sort of thing was not what he wanted to see in his daughters. As I grew older I was supposed to kneel meekly by the river bank, washing clothes, or weaving baskets and breech cloths beside our hut. I was not to look directly at a man, or even speak to a man, but I was somehow supposed to catch the eye of a potential suitor worthy of my family name. When men did not approach my father for my hand he would beat me. He was saying I wasn't demure enough. He said I was a shame to his family.”

“I'm sorry Naomi.”

“I spoke to a man once at the river bank. He wasn't a warrior and he wasn't even a very good hunter. He worked with wood. He was skilled with his hands and made canoes. Gradually I noticed that he often deliberately worked by the river bank when I was there washing clothes. We began to speak. I was so shy. Can you imagine me being shy?” Naomi laughed softly and I smiled and shook my head.

“No Mistress. I can't imagine you being shy.”

“Oh, but I was. And I felt something. He made me laugh and he was courteous and he asked me questions, and was interested in my opinions. One day I was dragged to an open space in the village by my father who had discovered I was flirting with a wood worker. He swore at me that I was a slut and that I had ruined my chances to find a warrior or hunter who would have me. He tied my wrists to a whipping post in the village and beat me in front of his friends. I was never allowed to speak to that man again. When a year later no hunter or warrior seemed to want me, I was told I was worthless. My father was always angry with me. I learnt to stay away from him. My mother told me it was my fault.”

I pressed my face to her shoulder and just listened.

“When I was taken in a raid with my sisters I thought my world had ended. I knew nothing of the lands outside a few pasangs of the village. I was taken to a trading post up river. My sisters were hysterical but strangely I was numb to it all. We were branded and one by one sold. I was the last to be sold. I suppose my father was right. I am not worth much.”

“You're beautiful, Mistress,” I said, and I meant it.

“Flattering slave,” she laughed. “The Ubara bought me. I was just a girl to be given to her men, but in time she made me first girl. On board this ship, in this collar, I have lived a life I would never have had in my village. I have seen so much of Gor. I have met so many people. I've had such good sex...” she laughed and I laughed too. “I have authority here. I have respect, of a kind. The men like me, and do not think I am worthless. And I have a sense of purpose to my life. Looking after girls like you, for example.” She hugged me again.

“You're a better first girl than I ever was, Mistress,” I said with a soft smile.

“I know I can be scary, Emma, but it's because I have to be. But I can also be here for you all when you genuinely need it. Take the morning off, Emma. Sun bathe on the deck. But report back for work to Imani after lunch. Naomi kissed me softly on my forehead and then stood up. “I like you, Emma. I don't want to see you hurt.”

I stood by the port side rail that morning as I watched the city of Schendi recede in size on the distant horizon until it resembled a fragile model. I imagined Bea waking up in her bed, preparing breakfast, washing, dressing in her array of veils and robes as a respectable free woman would, planning her day and then opening up the slaver house for business, oblivious to the fact that I was sailing away from the harbour mouth. It would be six to nine months before we might call on Schendi again, and anything might happen in that time. I clung to the hope that I might have a second chance to speak to her, but what if Naomi was right? What if she had changed in the last seven years? How long had she been on Gor? What circumstances had brought her to Gor? And how had she become a slaver? It seemed insane to think that my sister could now buy and sell women without a second thought. What had happened to her?

Occasionally the slaves on the Larl would regard me with a degree of sadness and sympathy for Naomi had almost certainly explained to them all why the white skinned kajira was excused duties this morning. Whenever I returned their gaze they would offer me a nod of understanding before they returned to their work. I was one of them by now, no longer a new girl, and my pain was accepted and shared throughout the ship's coffle. Slave girls bond in time and look out for one another. Yes, petty rivalries and competition exist as they do in any social circles, but at times of loss and great pain, we are there for one another. They are my chain sisters.

Imani approached mid-morning and handed me a soft, sweet pastry from Schendi. She had been given it as a reward but had decided to give it to me instead. I thanked her and kissed her on the left cheek.

“We're here if you need to talk to us, Emma,” said the girl. “You're not alone.”

It's true. If you wear a steel collar you are never alone.

Sometime before lunch was served I was approached by Simon. I pretended not to notice him as I gazed out over the vast blue expanse of ocean. Some dolphin-like fish were surfacing and diving and trailing our vessel. They were graceful and beautiful and often found in these waters. The Askaris called them 'sousa' but I do not know the common Gorean term.

“Emma... I'm so sorry,” said Simon after he stood silently beside me for a while.

“Are you? Really?” I didn't look at him. Presumably Naomi had explained what he had done.

“Believe me, I am. If I could take back the last twenty four hours...” there was something of a haunted tone to his voice which surprised me. “I didn't know... I wouldn't have... if I'd known...”

I turned to face him and swept my wind blown hair from my face with my left hand. “I don't want your apology.” There was something in his eyes – a pained expression that I had never seen before – complete and utter guilt that surprised me.

“But I need to apologise. I am... so sorry... I didn't know Beatrice was your sister... how could I have known?”

“I tried to tell you. And now I've lost her.” But there was something else. A look of anguish in his eyes that I didn't quite understand. He looked far more guilty for taking me away from Bea than I would ever have expected. He looked absolutely distraught by what he had done.

And then he took my hands gently in his own. “I will never forgive myself for this. I don't expect your forgiveness, but I am ashamed for what I have done. I have wronged you without meaning to.”

It seemed strange. His remorse seemed very extreme for what actually had just been a misunderstanding. Of course he couldn't have known who Bea was. My resolve to hate him softened a little. He hadn't taken me away from Bea to spite me after all.

“We will return to Schendi in maybe eight months. I will beg the Ubara to let me see my sister then.”

“I... I am so sorry, Emma... so sorry...” was all Simon could say before he turned away and walked quickly away from me. What had brought that on?

Yishana's moods were mercurial and as the days progressed I noticed that she was missing the presence of Simon in her cabin at night. To begin with she gave no sign of this, concentrating instead on me and taking pleasure in my caresses and oral skills, but for Yishana now, women were really just a side dish. Simon had taken liberties with her over the months and she had enjoyed those moments. I think she didn't truly understand how much she wanted a man in her bed until that man was gone.

Eight nights on from Schendi and I lay in her furs gazing up at the Ubara on one elbow as she drank wine from a solid gold goblet encrusted with gem stones. It had been part of a dowry accompanying a free woman of Cos that we had liberated three months ago. She seemed distracted, restless. We had engaged in sex but Yishana's mood had changed part way through and she had angrily pushed me aside.

“Have I done something wrong Mistress?” I asked.

Yishana said nothing, as she rolled on to her stomach and gazed at the small round window in the hull of the ship.

I knew better than to press the matter or ask any unwanted questions. Instead I poured her wine and hoped that might soothe her restless nature.

And then she came out and asked me that question. “What is it like, Emma?”

“What is what like, Mistress?”

“Sex, with a man.”

“You've had sex with a man, Mistress. Simon has shared your bed.”

The Ubara shook her head and drank some more of the wine. “I mean to be penetrated by a man. What is it like?”

“Well... I like it...” I said with a half smile. Yishana laughed at that and offered me the rim of the wine goblet. I drank a little of the Cosian wine and then lay back on my elbow. “It's... very different, Mistress, from what you have experienced so far. There's not really any comparison. To have a man inside you... well, you sort of... feel... I mean, the thing is, Mistress, the penis is so much better than tongues, lips or fingers slipping inside you because it has more girth and it throbs, making the sexual experience more intense and pleasurable. It fills you, Mistress, completely and there is no better feeling in the world to be filled like that and every inch the penis slides in and out of you it brings a torrent of pleasurable tingles that build up and up and never seem to end. You're just climbing higher and higher, and when his groin presses against my clitoris, it lifts me to a whole other level of uncontrollable pleasure. My breasts become hot and sensitive. I just get these waves of pleasure spreading through my groin to my thighs making my toes curl. I lose control, I really do. And nothing can beat the feeling of when the penis first enters me – that moment when the thick head pushes hard and opens me up and... I just lose control. I really do.”

Yishana is gazing at me with rapt attention. She fingers the softness of the furs that we lie on as I continue to try and put my sexual feelings into clumsy words. How can she know or understand what she has never felt?

“But I'm a slave, Mistress. It would feel different for you.”

I see a deep earthy need burning in Yishana's eyes now as she drinks deeply from the wine cup.

“How different?” she asked.

“You're a free woman, Mistress. It wouldn't feel as good. You're frigid compared to a kajira.”

“Yes. Of course.” She sipped some more wine. “But I would feel something? Something more than I feel with you?”

“I think so, Mistress. Yes. With the right man. You would feel more.”

“The right man?” She gazed at me.

“A man who didn't treat you as an Ubara. A man who wasn't afraid of you. Most men would treat you delicately for fear of angering you and being impaled by your Askaris afterwards.”

“I see.”

“I mean, that's what you would do, Mistress... if a man insulted you in any way.”

“Of course. I am Yishana.” She shook her head imperiously.

“So...”

“But if a man did not know who I was? If he had no reason to be scared of me?”

“He would treat you differently.”

“Show me.” Yishana sat up on her couch.

“Mistress?” I was a bit disturbed by this.

“Pretend you are such a man. You know what they do in the furs with a woman. Show me. Pretend.”

“I'm not sure I can...”

“Do you wish to be whipped?”

“I will try my best, Mistress!”I scampered up onto my knees on the couch. I did not want to be whipped. How was I going to go about this? Yes, I knew how men were with women, but I wasn't confident I could mimic them without it just being a bit, well.... silly. “The man would probably stand over you at first.” I got up and climbed off the couch. I could see Yishana's eyes watching me like a hawk. I'm not particularly tall, but then neither is Yishana. I loomed over her as she lay on the furs of her couch. “You have probably been told to go to this couch. You may be naked as you are now, or you may still have an underslip of some sort. If so the man would strip you.”

“I would hit him!” snarled Yishana as I made motions with my hands as if to strip the already naked Ubara.

“Then he would restrain you, Mistress, like this.” I seized first her left wrist and then her right wrist. “Please do not whip me, Mistress. I am only doing this because you...” I let out a yelp as Yishana, who was stronger than me, forced me backwards and was suddenly astride me, pinning my wrists to the couch. She snarled into my face and raised a tight fist above my face.

“You dare seize my wrists! I will have you... Oh...” She suddenly relaxed. “Of course. This is what the man would try to do to me?”

I nodded furiously as she pinned me to the couch and I twisted my head to the side, fearful that she was about to break my nose!

“As you can see I would struggle and overpower him,” she said smugly.

“Like you did Simon, Mistress?”

“Simon was very strong.” She shook her head imperiously again.

“Most men are strong, Mistress. Nearly all of them will be stronger than you.”

“I have a knife nearby,” she snarled.

“Let us suppose you do not have a chance to reach for it.” This really wasn't a good idea.

“I can always reach for it,” she snarled. “I would cut out his liver!” She snapped her white teeth at me, pausing just before my throat.

“If Mistress would let me up...” With a derisory sniff, Yishana released my wrists and allowed me to sit up. “The, um, man would hold you down and then...”

“I would kill him! I would rip out his throat with my teeth!”

“Mistress, I really don't think this is going to work. I'm afraid if I even try to show you, you're going to stick a knife in me!”

“I won't... stick a knife in you,” said Yishana as she lay back against the headboard. “Show me.”

“Please, Mistress, you've got to remember I'm not really trying to hurt you.”

Yishana laughed. “You couldn't if you tried.”

Oh fuck. I really didn't want to do this. “Since you're putting up such heated resistance the man would probably bind your wrists to the headboard.”

“Oh?” Yishana sat up, intrigued.

“He could hold you down but he would need his hands free for what he'd want to do next. We can pretend by having you cross your wrists above the headboard and if you imagine they are secured, then..”

“Show me.” She picked up some binding fibre and passed it to me.

“Mistress?” I looked at her in alarm.

“I don't want to 'pretend' – I want to know what happens.”

“Please don't kill me, Mistress...” I whispered as I held the binding fibre in my trembling hands and looked at her.

“I'm not going to kill you, Emma!” snarled Yishana. “Now do what a man would do to me. I want to know.”

“You're going to kill me if I do this... I don't want to die...”

“I WON”T KILL YOU!” she snarled. “just do it!”

I had seen and felt capture knots on my own wrists many thousands of times and knew perfectly well how to bind and secure a woman. I began to do so with Yishana, taking first her right wrist and looping the fibre about it. Suddenly I screamed as she threw me onto my back again.

“You dare!” Like a springing panther she was on top of me and reaching for her knife.

“Mercy, Mistress! La kajira! La kajira!” I screamed as I saw the knife flash down and at the very last moment felt it embed itself in the furs and wood inches from my head where the hilt quivered alarmingly.

Seconds later she realised what she had just nearly done. “I am... sorry, Emma...” She moved off my prone body. “But you did come at me with binding fibre. It is your fault.”

“You told me to!”

“It won't happen again. Look, I will put the knife where I can't reach it.” She rose from the couch and placed the knife in a drawer to the side of the cabin. Then she quickly jumped back onto the couch and lay on her back with her wrists raised above her head.

“I think we should stop, Mistress.”

“I think you should do as you're told if you don't want to be whipped,” said Yishana.

Oh fuck. “I'm going to tie your wrists now, Mistress. Struggle a little bit, so you know what it will feel like to be bound by a man, but not enough to kill me...”

Yishana snarled. “I'm not feeling anything. You said this would be pleasurable?”

“I haven't really started yet...” tentatively at first I took her right wrist and looped the binding fibre about it. She flinched and was about to kill me but managed to control herself in time. I deftly, and perhaps to her surprise, swiftly looped the free end through the slave ring twice and wrapped it around her left wrist. I did this quickly and surprised her with my speed. Before she really thought to resist again, I had tightened the binding fibre about the ring and secured both her wrists in place. I was now kind of safe because Yishana was about to find out the hard way that she was helpless.

I watched her struggle and writhe in my tight knots. She flailed about on the bed and hissed like a caged cat but was astonished to discover that my capture knots held her perfectly.

There was a lot of swearing, most of it in the tribal dialect. I watched, terrified now, from the edge of the couch, almost certain that she was going to have me impaled or worse. But then she stopped, like a trapped animal will eventually do when it has exhausted itself. She lay there on her back, a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead as she gazed up at me.

“Mistress?”

She pulled hard against the bonds again and for a moment I saw a rare flash of vulnerability in her face as she realised that she couldn't free herself.

“The man would begin to touch you now,” I said, moving my hands over sensitive areas of her body. I saw her eyes widen in shock as she felt what it is like to be aroused in bondage. “And he would roughly part your thighs like this.” I did so, parting her legs, despite her attempt to press her knees closely together.

“I will kill you!” she snarled.

I shrank back again, terrified, until she glared at me. “What?” she snarled. “Why are you just quivering there?”

“You're going to kill me...”

“I didn't mean it!” She struggled in her bindings again and began to breathe heavily. She was beginning to feel it now. Feel what women feel when they are helplessly bound and slowly aroused to the point of a slave belly.

Except Yishana wasn't a slave of course, so she couldn't possibly feel the same things I would feel in her position.

“A woman would begin to realise she was helpless,” I said with a smile as I now slid over Yishana's body and lowered myself on to her pelvis. “Oh, she would struggle, but the more she struggled, the more aroused she would feel...” I pretended not to notice how Yishana was secretly struggling against her bonds, thinking I didn't know. I saw her skin flush and her nipples swell as she did so. “She would be so helpless... so helpless... and the man could take his time with her, touching her anywhere he desired...” and I began to do so, stimulating and teasing all the erogenous zones on her body I knew from past experience. The effect was astonishing. Yishana's eyes half closed and she began to moan softly almost like a slave! “And keeping the woman's thighs parted...” I could feel Yishana trying to press her thighs back together but I found it easy enough to keep them apart, “he would then enter her, pressing the head of his penis between her wet, inviting labia...” I couldn't do this of course but I pressed my pelvic bone against hers and began to grind down on her. She squealed! Yishana actually squealed and I watched as she began to writhe and wriggle as I pressed myself against her sex.

I was astonished at the reactions I was getting. Her body was trembling in the bonds, and from the way she was shaking she was approaching an orgasm much quicker than I could ever have imagined. It wouldn't be a true slave orgasm of course – I didn't have a penis, but it would no doubt be a more intense orgasm than she had experienced in the past.

“The woman would fear her feelings.” I whispered softly, “and rightly so, because she had never felt such things before. How could she have, when she was free? But in the hands of a man, with his penis so hard, so rigid, so deep inside her...” I moved so that she would feel my rubbing against her clitoris. Now she went absolutely wild on the couch, losing all control. I was bringing her to a deep and powerful orgasm brought on by thoughts of submission, domination and bondage. She screamed and came, the lines on her wrists looking bright red where she had pulled so hard against the binding fibre. Her orgasm lasted just over a minute and then I let her subside, but I didn't untie her. I let her lie there, feeling those rich sensations as she continued to wriggle in her bonds. I watched her body closely, lying on my side, observing small signs that I could read very well indeed.

“It's a bit like that, Mistress, only... well, ten times better.”

The original plan had been to sail further south, perhaps as far as the legendary island of Anango where Goreans believe cabals of sorcerers dwell on lofty mountain tops (this is of course news to the people of Anango who have never met any such individuals) but Yishana proved to be as mercurial as ever and decided after ten days that we would change course and head back to our traditional hunting grounds north of Asperiche and Tabor. And then as we charted a course for the busy waters she decided we would instead head to the ports of Asperiche, only then she changed her mind again and decided we’d go hunting first.

The Askari crew took these ever changing orders in their stride, presumably believing that Yishana was responding to signs from her Goddess. Kerim Shah seemed to be watching her closely these days though he seemed reassured that things might return to normal now that Simon was a free man and no longer chained in the Ubara’s cabin in the evenings.

In fact Yishana pretty much ignored Simon, who by now was developing something of a friendship with Tijani. The two men were often seen together chatting, drinking and laughing. Yishana hadn’t wanted to free Simon and she resented the fact that he was now a free member of her crew. To this end she refused to even acknowledge his presence unless absolutely necessary. He was not included in any of her command meetings and she didn’t even assign him any work to do. Generally speaking though Tijani delegated work to Simon which didn’t improve Yishana’s mood in that regard at all.

These were the busiest shipping lanes on known Gor and consequently Yishana could be very selective in who she preyed upon. Ram ships are low in the water and with sails lowered, ready for an attack (ram ships tend to attack at short range by oar propulsion alone), can be quite sneaky. The mythical Tarl Cabot is said to have a ram ship painted green that lies so low in the water it is sometimes invisible until it appears at port or starboard. How this can be when any competent captain has a man up in the crows nest at all times is beyond me. The hull on the waterline may be green but the deck you can view from an elevated position isn’t.

Yishana had various rules of engagement, the primary one being that we didn’t attack ships flying the colours of Port Kar. Port Kar is a traditional enemy of Cos and that was enough for Yishana to grant them immunity from her predatory assaults, but also there is the case that Port Kar is home to most of the known pirate ships and raiders south of Torvaldsland, and it wouldn’t really do for Yishana to fall out with the pirate ‘brotherhood’. I wouldn’t put it past the Captains of Port Kar to actively seek her out if she did.

She naturally enough stayed well clear of heavily armed warships of any nation, and if merchant round ships had a military escort then they were safe too. She also left well alone any vessel flying the flags of the League of Black Slavers who operate out of Schendi. But that left a lot of shipping to prowl the high seas in search of.

Sometimes she would be driven by news of merchant convoys – heavily laden vessels carrying rich cargoes that might travel together in line formation. Here she would pick on the stragglers, once she found them, or take advantage of early dawn conditions when ships in convoy are naturally blown apart by the weather during the night and take some time to line up again. Her ship was swift like a speeding shark and it could often strike, plunder, and be away before other ships could turn and manoeuvre to be of assistance to the victim.

But more often than not she simply patrolled for Cosian vessels. It was said that her attacks were becoming so frequent, so ferocious, that some Cosian captains took down their city colours once out of sight of Telnus and flew fake flags instead. This sort of thing is dishonourable and highly frowned upon on Gor and any captain doing so might be a pariah at home if word reached his city. In effect you would be repudiating your Home Stone, denying it out of a form of cowardice. But these were dangerous times for Cosian merchant ships and desperate men can take desperate measures.

The captains of Port Kar had long ago worked out that they were safe from Yishana and, bearing no love for Cos, were actually pleased to see her ship, the Larl. It was always amusing when we happened to come across a ship flying Port Kar colours. The men there would be cheeky enough to hail us across the stretch of water and salute with raised swords. It amused Yishana anyway who would wave back. Despite this Yishana never chose to visit Port Kar and use it as a safe harbour. I once asked her why.

“I don’t trust the men of Port Kar,” she said. “They smile from the decks of their ships, and laugh when they hear of the Cosian vessels I’ve plundered, but they would strip and rape me if I put in to their canal city. That is who they are.”

I think she was very wise to avoid Port Kar.

We found no Cosian round ships in the first week of our hunting. Time and again Yishana refrained from attacking merchant vessels in case a fat Cosian prize was just round the corner. But as the days wore on and no Cosian flags could be found, she grew irritated and took to pacing the fore deck with a glass of the builders, scanning the far horizon for prey.

“Where are they?” she said. “I can’t have sunk them all.”

Men need to be kept busy and on board the Larl it wasn’t conducive to discipline to have armed warriors idle for too long. I don’t think Yishana was ever in any danger, but she understood that fights and arguments would break out among the Askaris if she didn’t locate a prize ship soon enough.

I spent each night in her cabin now, which was a growing source of frustration for me because I wanted and needed the company of men at night. I watched in anguish as the other slaves warmed the sack cloth beside various strong Askaris while I was led to Yishana’s cabin to lie on her furs watching her drink wine and dose herself with opiates until she chose to lie with me and direct my mouth and tongue to her labia. Many years ago I foolishly thought this is what I wanted – a beautiful woman to dominate me, but the Kur science had changed me in many ways I didn’t understand. I was not aroused by women any more. I found them beautiful, and I judged myself in reference to them, but I didn’t dream of them. When Yishana did play with me it was… okay. Just okay. It was nice. Sometimes. But I didn’t enjoy the heightened ecstasy of orgasm that I felt with a dominant man. A man of Gor, a Master, would elevate me to plateaus of pleasure I had never dreamed possible on Earth.

And more than anything I wanted cock inside me. I wanted to feel it slide deep inside, take me, fill me completely. Yishana’s fingers were a poor substitute.

That was when she even used them.

But it seemed that Yishana didn’t want to sleep alone while her men caroused and fucked on board the deck. She wanted a warm body lying beside her. Ideally she wanted Simon, or some other silk slave male, but I was the next best option.

By the tenth day I was burning with need for the touch of a man. I whimpered softly when I was led away each night, having seen the men begin to pick out favourites from the black girls. I even whimpered when I saw Simon select a girl and seem to forget all about me.

“I need a man,” I said to Yishana on the fifteenth day. “Please, Mistress. Just for one night.”

She regarded me with an amused smile on her face. “Is it really like that, Emma?”

“Yes! I can’t help myself. My body is highly tuned to sex. Please, Mistress. Tomorrow night? Please?”

“Tijani has been asking for you as it happens. He seems to like you for some reason.” She curled on the furs, her pupils dilated from the opiates. “I could throw you to him, perfumed and compliant.”

“Oh yes, Mistress.” I began smothering her belly with kisses as she laughed softly. “I would be so grateful.” Tijani would put me to use all night long. It would be wonderful.

“Very well.” She regarded me as she sat back against the headboard. She reached out with her left foot and traced a line down my breasts with her toes. “And the following night you will describe it to me in detail. All of it. Agreed?”

Oh.

I said yes of course and the night after when I lay again in Yishana's soft furs I spent hours recounting the many pleasures I received from Tijani’s hands and impressive sized cock. Yishana seemed captivated by the details, often stopping me to ask questions. By the end of my account she looked hot and needy and so I fucked her the way she liked, grinding my sex against hers and rubbing my breasts in her face.

By day eighteen brawling at night was becoming a common occurrence amongst idle men who could drink heavily and argue over the rationing of too few slaves. I saw a whispered conversation between Kerim Shah and Yishana on the morning of the nineteenth day of hunting and shortly afterwards Yishana sighted a flag of Brundisium on the horizon.

“She will do,” said Yishana as she snapped closed the glass of the builders. “Brundisium allied to Cos in the great war, did she not?”

“She did,” said Tijani as he reached for his sword scabbard.

“Well then,” said Yishana with a predatory smile. “Let us treat her the way we treat the Cosians. To arms!” she shouted across the deck. Men sprang to their feet and began running to find spears and shields. There was always a sense of excitement when a ship was sighted and identified as prey. We wouldn’t close on her for another couple of hours, but the sighting itself was enough to send the Askaris into a pre-battle frenzy of whooping, cheering and barging against one another. Every slave on board knew the drill by now. We soaked the timbers of the deck and mast with buckets of sea water in case of fire. We gathered sheafs of throwing spears and placed them by the ship’s rails. We brought arrows to Yishana who was an excellent shot with the curved short bow. We moved anything loose below decks so it would not get in the way of the fighting. And we set up cots with medical supplies in the hold. Simon directed a number of the girls, including Naomi, to act as nurses when the inevitable wounded Askaris limped back to the Larl. We prepared for full battle readiness.

And Yishana? Kerim Shah saw to it that she was high as a kite. She breathed in the narcotic fumes of his smoking incense sticks and began ululating across the water, though the distant ship could hardly hear her at that range.

“My robe, Emma,” she said as she undid the clasps and hooks and stripped in front of the men, handing it to me for safe keeping. The moment she stood there naked they all cheered and raised their spears into the air.

“Askari-al-Ghul!” she screamed at them and they screamed her name back. I saw her wrap the same breechcloth about her womanly hips that the men wore and I saw her pace the deck, working herself up into a frenzy of battle rage.

Kerim Shah informed us all that the Goddess was watching and that the ship of Brundisium would be slick with blood by the time we left it.

Not ours, I hoped.

Round ships like that would have few if any professional fighting men on board. Yishana had nearly 150 experienced warriors. The odds were always on our side. As the Larl sped towards the Brundisium round ship, Yishana gave orders for the mast to be detached and lowered. Like a sleek sea serpent we closed the remaining distance on oar power alone while the round ship struggled to tack the right winds to avoid us.

I had seen enough ship actions by now to tell that the round ship couldn’t manoeuvre quickly enough to escape. It’s turning circle was far wider than ours and so we could keep the great ram at our prow lined up with its starboards side.

“Emma,” it was Naomi standing beside me. “I’m putting you with Imani to herd and chain the women we take. Draw a whip each from the stores and see they are brought aboard quickly. The women will be terrified, screaming, they may do irrational things. You can call on any of the men if you need help. Slaves go straight in the hold. Free Women are chained to the mast.” Naomi pointed to sets of shackles that were being nailed to the mast through the links of chain. There were enough sets for five free women. I had never seen a round ship carrying more than that.

“Yes Mistress.”

“You have full discipline rights on all the women, slave or free. I don’t want any delays. These waters are frequently patrolled by naval ships and I want us on our way as quickly as possible.” Naomi was far more sensible than Yishana was. Tijani in particular always listened to her advice.

“Do I strip the free women?” I asked.

“No. Unless they prove troublesome. Then you may. But warn them first.”

“Veils?”

“To be removed.” Naomi glanced at the distant shape of the round ship. She smiled. “We can't have free women thinking they're special, can we?”

“Oh no, Mistress,” I said, sharing the joke. We don't like free women. We like to see them enslaved like us.

“You will hear a loud whistle when it’s safe for you to leave the hold, cross the deck of the Larl and board the round ship. Until then you stay below with all the other girls.”

I found Imani below deck and smiled as she hugged me.

“Free women prisoners!” she laughed.

“New slaves you mean,” I said, sharing her excitement that they would soon be chained to the mast. Things were always easier for us when there were new women onboard the Larl. The novelty of the captives would excite the men. We could look forward to many nights where we simply lay in the arms of the Askaris, being fed delicious treats and wine while the new captives submitted to their initial ravishments. Then when the Askaris grew tired of the lack of skill shown by these women, we would remind the men what their favourite girls were capable of. Work during the day would be easier too as we could assign lots of our chores to the new captives.

“Your whip, Emma,” said Imani with excitement.

I took the slave crop and tucked it in the waist strip of my breach cloth. And then we scurried to the rear of the hold where the other girls sat and knelt away from the coming battle.

We were always nervous before a battle, even though the odds were heavily on our side. We all had favourites amongst the crew and I remembered only too well the death of the tenth spearman who had gifted me the precious arm ring I still wore in his memory. Men would die or perhaps be crippled for life. Battle is savage and unrelenting on Gor.

Above us on deck we could hear the Askaris drumming their spears against their shields as the Larl closed on the Brundisium round ship. It was an awful racket and it put the fear of God in me, so probably did the same to the men and women on the round ship. The kajirae began to hug one another for comfort and security. It was dark where we sat and knelt with narrow fingers of light stealing through gaps in the planks above our heads. We were all scared. Naomi spoke to us all, reassuring us that everything would be fine. She began telling us stories to take our minds off the battle to come. I squeezed myself between Asha and Falala's warm bodies and felt better for it. There was security in numbers and the girls under Naomi's command knew to look out for one another.

And then came the sound we had been waiting for – a crashing sound and the splitting of timbers as the great ram at the water line punched through the side of the round ship and locked the two ships together. We were thrown to one side in a tangled heap of kajira limbs and hair as we scrambled back onto our bottoms and knees. Now we heard the war cries of the Askaris and we knew they would be running across the prow of the Larl and leaping onto the deck of the round ship. The fighting would be brutal and unrelenting until the crew of the Brundisium ship begged for quarter.

I felt Asha bury her head into my shoulder and I held her there as I gazed in the dim light at Naomi's controlled face.

“It's going to be okay,” she said to us all.

She really was an excellent first girl.

“You have your whips?” asked Naomi of Imani and me.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good. I want scampering feet running down into the hold in quick succession. Slaves to be stripped. Free women retain their gowns, but not veils. You'll hear the whistle soon. And I'll go on to the deck with you, so you'll be perfectly safe. And the men won't let anyone harm you.”

The men would be very protective of their kajirae after a battle. I felt confident that no one from the round ship would try and harm us with the Askaris watching. That would breach any offer of quarter and would result in wholesale slaughter of the captured men.

I have said before that ancient war has no place for women. I knelt in the darkness feeling my sisters close by as the screams and and striking of blows rung out across the deck. The sounds were distant, faint, for the battle was swiftly being carried to the deck of the merchant vessel as its crew were being cut down by fierce stabbing assegais. I had seen the fighting before on the Carcassonne when no one had thought to hide me for my own safety. I had seen the rugby scrums of men colliding and pushing against one another, stabbing, always stabbing, seeking to kill the man in front of you before he could do the same. Strength and endurance matter more than agility and speed in massed combat, because frankly agility counts for little when you’re hemmed in by warriors on every side. All that matters is the strength of your muscles, and the morale of the men fighting to your left and right. Grinding, pushing, stabbing, gaining ground inch by bloody inch.

I weigh less than nine stone which counts for nothing in a shield wall.

“It will be over soon,” said Naomi as we said nothing. I felt Naomi stroke my hair before she turned to do the same to one of the other girls. At times like this she thought only of us, only of her kajirae. I had such respect for her.

“Be brave, Asha,” she said as she hugged Asha who often trembled when men were fighting on the deck. And then, after maybe ten minutes the screams faded away to nothing. The silence hung there for maybe ten seconds before there was a single scream, and then some more silence followed by another single scream. More silence and then the stamping of feet, a cry for mercy, the sound of stabbing and another single scream. This would be the aftermath of battle when lone stragglers were butchered where they had hid themselves. In many ways this was worse to hear than the combat for this was simple butchery. I closed my eyes as I heard another high pitched scream that lingered as men hacked and stabbed until the scream ended abruptly. I just wanted it to be over. And then it was. I heard a whistle and felt Naomi touch my shoulder.

“Go,” she said. “You know what to do. Take your whips.”

And so Imani and I rose to our feet and carefully felt our way past the other girls, through the hold and towards the ladder that led up to the main deck. We climbed up by touch and tapped quickly on the inner hatch. I heard a bolt sliding back and saw daylight as one of the Askaris grinned as he held out his hand to lift me onto deck. Already many of the men had returned to the Larl as the looting on the other vessel was underway. A human chain was forming to swiftly pass boxes, barrels and crates from one ship to the other.

“Kajirae,” he said with a toothy grin as he stroked my hips and ass. “It is safe. Go, find the women. There are two on the deck.” He motioned with his hand to the merchant vessel where I could see a couple of hysterical free women being passed back and forth between various Askaris. They were still clothed but their veils were gone and they cried piteously as the men took it in turns to taste them.

I don’t like to see women suffering. You sometimes feel detached from suffering on Gor because there is just so much of it. And of course my sex suffers the most. I remember when I was at university and there was a girl there called Louise who used to spend some of her weekends with a re-enactment group living what I think was a Viking style role-play. They would dress up at some remote location on some private land and pretend to be a Viking village. The men would stage some shield wall fights and the women would do the cooking. A few of the women would take part as shield maidens, but on the whole it was just an excuse to drink beer and sit around camp fires praising Odin. She was really in to it made it all sound like fun to live in an ancient dark age before technology became an equalising factor between the sexes. But the truth is Louise would have suffered horribly if she had somehow travelled back in time to 768 AD. Because women did back then. Her life would have been short and fearful. Women are at such a disadvantage in a primitive pre-technological age. I always thought of myself as intelligent, resourceful, capable, but here on Gor I wear a collar and kneel before men.

I ran across the nearest gang plank and crossed over to the deck of the merchant ship as I heard the first tearing of cloth. It was a round ship, larger than the Larl, but heavier in the water and far less manoeuvrable. I heard a woman scream as the neck of her gown was torn towards her left breast. In another few minutes she would be thrown belly first onto some sack cloth and the hem of her gowns would be rolled up over her hips readying her for rape.

“Masters, please, if I may,” I shouted as I arrived with my whip in hand. The Askaris ignored me initially as they slapped the woman with the torn gown as she struggled to keep them away from her. I watched her fall back straight into the waiting arms of one of the other Askaris who seized her by her hair and arched her back as his friends began to grope her body through the layers of gowns.

“Masters! Please!”

They looked round now, not happy to see me. I was interrupting their spoils.

“Go away, Emma,” said Obanutu. He snarled and pointed his spear at me. “We’re busy.”

“Masters, I am to take the women to the mast. The Ubara orders it.”

And then I saw the truth – I saw what they wanted to do weighed up against their obedience towards Yishana. It was the look of a house cat who ordinarily is affectionate and loving, but you try to take a small bird away from it when it has caught one and see what sort of snarl you receive for your troubles. The men were poised to strip and rape the women and with their blood hot and pulsing in their veins they were prepared to kill anyone who tried to stop them.

Except they still obeyed Yishana. I saw them look towards the Ubara where she talked with her tenth spears, and with Tijani as the last of the resistance was mopped up. I saw her motion towards the hold of the ship where something of value seemed to still be guarded. These Askaris did not obey her order immediately, instead like a cat might have to have the bird prised form its reluctant paws, I had to carefully brush past these angry looking men and with my heart beating fearfully, take their prizes away from them.

“Come with me if you do not want to be raped,” I said quietly and carefully to the two women. “Do not make a sound, just follow me slowly.”

The women were in a state of shock. They had lost their veils and I could see the fear etched in their faces as I took their hands and slowly, as if moving away from a semi circle of hissing cobras, led them towards the main mast of the Larl.

“You’ll be safe at the mast, Mistresses,” I said, not daring to look back at the Askaris for fear my glance might provoke them to break discipline and do what their instincts told them to do. “Just cross the gang plank slowly and do as I say.”

They gave me no resistance and I was able to fasten their wrists in the manacles hanging from bolts in the mast. I felt sorry for these women because I knew I was only delaying the inevitable. Tonight they would be thrown to the Askaris for rape unless they happened to have some bargaining resource that interested Yishana. Maybe one of them might be wealthy enough to stand for ransom, but if not they would be gang raped throughout the night. Women are victims on Gor.

Imani joined me and brandished her whip until I touched her wrist and motioned for her to lower her hand.

“The women are in shock, Imani,” I said. “They will be quiet and obedient. Please do not make things worse for them”

“They are free women,” said Imani as she stared at them. And yes, I shared her dislike of free women, but I could not allow them to suffer when I was faced with the reality of the situation.

“Once upon a time we were like them,” I reminded Imani. “Show them the mercy you would have wanted.”

I left Imani to guard the women from the Askaris. She was to tell the men that the Ubara had ordered them to remain untouched. Provided ship board discipline held out, they would be safe until the Ubara spoke to them personally to decide their fates.

All that was left was for me to see what was happening down below. I had noticed Yishana and Tijani leading a small group of Askaris below the deck and now I heard shouting and the sound of men challenging our men. It seemed there were still fighting men aboard the vessel prepared to make a last futile stand.

I saw the last of the fighting as I lowered myself down into the hold. Three warriors guarded a cabin and were selling their lives in the cramped narrow corridor as Yishana sent Tijani and his Askaris to kill them. The men on guard had short swords while the Askaris had spears and the extra reach was the deciding factor in a narrow ship’s hold. One by one the fighting men were stabbed to death, the shields of the Askaris protected Yishana's men from the short swords that tried in vain to cut a way through.

“See what is so precious inside that cabin, Tijani,” said Yishana as she stepped over the nearest of the bodies. She kicked at its head to ensure he was indeed dead.

“A woman, no doubt,” said Tijani as he motioned for his spearmen to form up again. “And one of high status if she travelled with three personal guards.”

“I hope she’s Cosian,” said Yishana with a smile. “I do so love to meet high born Cosian ladies.”

“Mistress, am I needed?” I asked as I ran softly towards the Ubara.

“Probably,” said Yishana as she ran her hands over my breasts. She had that drug glazed look that I was used to seeing by now at the culmination of a battle. “I think there is one more free woman to be unveiled and chained to the mast. You have your whip?”

“I have, Mistress.” I showed it to her.

“Then come, but stay behind us just in case she has a weapon.”

The cabin door was locked with a heavy bolt on the other side, but the Askaris made short work of it with a couple of lump hammers. And there she was, as we crowded through the doorway, the last free woman on board this merchant vessel – a high born woman able to afford a private cabin and employ three guardsmen during her travel. She wore gorgeous clothes and an array of luxurious veils befitting her wealth and status. She knew her men were dead, and she knew she was trapped with nowhere to run to, but she stood with bravery, dignity and grace nonetheless.

“Greetings, Lady,” said Tijani with a smile as he held his men back for a moment, waiting for the word from Yishana to take the woman.

“I am the Lady Cassandra of Vonda and my brother is the greatest warrior on Gor,” said the free woman with a voice I recognised only too well. “And if you dare to so much as touch me, I swear my brother Brinn will not rest until he finds you and kills you, one by one, slowly and painfully...”

There's that moment when you wake up on Christmas morning and you realise that the best present you could possibly hope for is waiting for you under the Christmas tree.

That's me, right now.

Best present.

Ever.

Hello Cassandra...