The Last Christmas

The Last Christmas

The Port of Schendi, Gor, 2024, five days after Emma left on board the Larl of the Thassa

I grip the wrist of my right hand to stop it from trembling but Tamlyn notices as he always does.

“You don’t have to hide that from me, Marcellus. I won’t think any less of you.”

The spasms are getting worse as time progresses and it’s all I can do to grimace, control the pain that shoots through my nerves and wait for it to abate. I mouth some obscenities and grit my teeth as the trembling begins to subside. It’s ironic, or unfortunate, or something like that anyway. Never did understand the actual meaning of the word 'irony'. Is it ironic if you survive fighting a battle Kur only to die of a wasting condition when you take the stabilisation serum that normally prolongs a man’s life threefold? Alanis Morissette would probably know.

“Bad?” asked Tamlyn as he filled a cup full of rain water and passed it to me.

“Not one of the good ones.” I chew some of the bitter green leaves I have to take for the pain and then rinse the taste from my mouth with the fresh water. Fucking medicine tastes like shit too. Everything tastes like shit these days.

We’re in Schendi and it’s hot, which always makes my skin prickly and my mood even more so. Never did like the damp heat of the equatorial regions. Give me the dry heat of the Tahari any day. I’m supposed to be overseeing the purchase of supplies for the expedition but Tamlyn has taken most of that on his shoulders. We’ve been together since the very first time I came to Gor, when I was lifted up on one of the great silver ships in the wake of Tarl’s supposed treachery. I’ve served Priest Kings well to the best of my ability and Tamlyn, my sword brother, has been there with me for much of it from day one. The bastard is lucky too. Wasn’t there in Elysium when Kurgus came calling, which is why he still gets to live.

Not like the others. Brave men. Dead men.

Loyal men.

Bella, my slave girl who had once been Tarna, looks up at me from the floor where she lies at my feet. I gave her a small pastry and told her to eat it slowly, very slowly. She was at Elysium that day but Kurgus spared her, and as soon as that bastard was dead I took her back from the Corcyrian villa Kurgus owned. She’s been in my collar since the late eighties and I’d never sell her. The sleek little beast was once a desert raider, working in the service of the Kurii, raiding desert wells in the Tahari at the head of her mounted kaiila riders. She once crossed swords with Tarl Cabot and survived to tell the tale.

Survived in a collar of course. That's what happens to free women who encounter Tarl Cabot. He didn't keep her though. His loss and my gain.

I nudge her with my foot and smile as she kisses my feet. I’ve known a lot of women but Bella is the best when it comes to sex. Hot, passionate, and she feels so good when I have her in my arms. Some women just fit you like a glove. Ellen did for example.

Yeah. I still think of her.

To my shame.

Ellen, my free companion. Ellen, my wife. Ellen, the mother of my children back on Earth.

Sometimes I think I’m a dishonourable piece of shit. I was young, my head full of adventure and I couldn’t lose Gor. It was in my blood. If only the ring that summoned the silver ships of the Priest Kings had had unlimited charges and I didn’t have to choose.

“Master...” Bella is still looking up at me as she licks the pastry the way she has been taught.

“What?” My sword hand still trembles from the deterioration of my body. My men can’t ever see me like this. I have to be seen to be strong if I’m going to command their loyalty in the jungle interior. One last adventure. One last hurrah. And then oblivion. But this will be the adventure that cements my reputation with the Priest Kings of the Nest. When I succeed in this I will be remembered for all time. My name will stand the test of time, up there with the best of them.

“I am scared.” Bella, as Tarna, once commanded men. Armed men. She claimed to be the greatest swords-woman on Gor. Yeah, not much of a claim really, but there you are. The sleek little slut thought highly of herself for a time. Soon after I bought her in a market in Patashqar I placed a sword on the ground. I told her to pick it up, which she did. I give you a chance to fight me for your freedom, I said. It will be to the death, but if you win my men have orders to free you. She gazed at me for a while and then threw the sword aside.

“I have been taught my limits,” she said to me.

“But are you not Tarna? Tarna the magnificent?”

“No,” she said. “I am just a kajira. A kajira named Bella.”

But even then she did not fear me. She just knew she could not fight me. This time though she is afraid.

“What?” I say again.

“I fear you will be dead soon, Master,” she said.

“All men die.”

“But you are close to death, and you will not return from the jungle interior.”

“No, I suspect I won’t.”

“Then what of me? What happens to me when you are dead?”

“I have no heirs. None I can leave property to anyway…” I think briefly of my eldest son and what he has become. I squint my eyes at the thought of... her. No, I have no heirs on Gor. “My possessions will be distributed amongst my banner men. You will be claimed and possibly sold.” I saw tears well in her eyes. Slaves fear being sold – it is an uncertain future at best.

“Take me with you. I want to be with you at the end, Master. Don't leave me here. I beg you.”

“No. I can’t guarantee your safety in the dark interior.” I reached down and stroked her hair. She was just a slave, but I cared for her. We’d been through a lot over the years and stupid as it sounds, I had some measure of affection for a mere kajira.

“I have earned this,” she said with a degree of authority that was hardly acceptable in a slave girl. I could have whipped her there and then for speaking in such a way, but over the years I had permitted Bella to speak her mind to me. “I was Tarna! I can fight by your side if you fall. I... I love you...”

“You have earned nothing, girl. And your days of holding a sword are gone. You will be lodged in Schendi until I return.”

“And if you don’t? If you don't return? I love you! Don't you understand that?”

“If I don't return, then you will find a new home, a new Master. And you will strive to please him the way you have pleased me.” I left the girl crying as I walked to the narrow veranda that looked out into the steaming heart of Schendi. It was raining again, another of those piss-poor rain showers that erupts without warning several times a day. Schendi perpetually smells of damp washing and rotting vegetation wherever you go. Tamlyn, my black sword brother, stood there gazing west towards the harbour. He didn’t see I was carrying a flagon of spiced wine and two goblets. He didn’t know what day it was.

“Here.” I placed the goblets on the flat rail of the balcony and poured the scented ka-la-na into each cup. “The ingredients aren’t quite the same, but it’s close enough. Merry Christmas, you old fucker.” I saw the look of surprise in Tamlyn's face.

“You haven’t been…”

“Counting the days? I still do. It’s Christmas Eve on Earth. I'm pretty sure of it. Means fuck all out here on Gor, but we always used to have mulled wine on Christmas Eve. You remember, don’t you?”

“I do. It was a good recipe, but the weather was cold. Here it hardly seems appropriate.”

“It’s still fucking Christmas.” I gritted my teeth as I felt another stab of pain, this time through my right leg. My hand holding my goblet trembled slightly for a second or two but was then still again. “This is probably going to be my last Christmas, mate, so let’s forget how hot it is. Imagine we’re on a ski slope and it’s been a three mile trip to the bar selling the hot drinks, with our women laughing together behind us. Ellen and Kim. Remember that time in Austria, Christmas in the mid-eighties? Kim kept falling over in the snow. Couldn't ski for shit. To your good health.” We raised goblets and drank.

“You’ll see plenty more Christmases yet,” said Tamlyn. “If a Kur couldn’t kill you…”

“Two Kurs,” I said with a laugh that turned into a hacking cough. “Two fucking big Kurs. You should have seen the second of them. Mad fucker he was, with an axe that would take two men to lift. And he had Kurgus with him. I suppose I can’t count it as a victory though. This is it, Tamlyn. I feel it in my bones. I’m nearing the end. But what a way to end it, eh? One last fucking hurrah. And this one is going to make our names immortal.”

“Your name,” said Tamlyn. “The glory is yours, old friend. If you’re right.” He clasped my shoulder and nodded.

“If I'm right? Believe me, I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life so far. He’s out there. Lost, alone, and afraid.”

We gazed out at the harbour inlet, watching new ships arrive even this late in the evening. Two more days and two more nights and then our expedition would be ready.

“Do you miss them?” asked Tamlyn. “Today of all days in the year?”

“Course I do. I’m an old man now. Hardly a day goes by when I don’t regret things. But yeah, today of all days. 1995. Christmas Eve. Christmas Day. We make decisions, mate, and we often make them on the spur of the moment. How our lives could have turned out if we’d taken a different fork on the road. Meeting... Emma... brought it all home. It showed me what I’d lost. Maybe this wasting condition is a blessing really. I’m not sure I deserve to live three hundred years. I’d trade them all for the years I threw away in 1995. Christmas fucking day, eh? Christmas fucking day.”

Christmas Eve 1995, England

'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus

Underneath the mistletoe last night

She didn't see me creep

Down the stairs to have a peep...'

We watch Ellen through the patio doors as she takes the children around the garden collecting holly to decorate the house. They do this every year on Christmas Eve and when they come in all cold and excited I have mulled wine waiting for Ellen and hot mince pies for the kids. It’s a family tradition and I’m going to miss it.

Ellen is wrapped up warm, boots, leggings, long skirt to her lower calves, several layers of tops and a thick warm coat and scarf. She even wears that bobble hat I think looks fucking ridiculous with the cheek guards that she jokes is her personal Gorean war helmet. She’s a good mother, no, make that a wonderful mother, and she’ll do her best with Bea, Eric and Alan when I’m gone.

“You haven’t told her yet, then?” Tamlyn asks as he sips some of the hot mulled wine. Kim, his lovely blonde slave, stands nearby, listening to us but not saying anything. In a concession to my kids she wears a long black overcoat, tightly belted at her waist, that falls to just above her knees, but I know that underneath that overcoat she will be wearing a brief piece of clinging red silk. She is barefoot and she wears a steel collar around her throat. Tamlyn has owned Kim now for nearly nine years and is very fond of her.

“No. She deserves one last family Christmas before I go. I can’t spoil it for her.”

“She’s going to hate you in time. Especially if you don’t tell her when you leave that this time it’s for good.”

I nod and sip my own mulled wine. The Game of Worlds has always demanded sacrifices, but some are harder than others. “Gor is in my blood now. I can’t say goodbye to it.”

The ring has two charges left in it. Just two. That means one last trip to Gor and back. And I am needed. The enemy plays kaissa with us and when the Nest calls, I answer that call.

“You’ve served your time. You know how it is. Retire after this mission,” suggests Tamlyn as he recognises, I think, how torn I am between my respective loyalties.

I know how it is. The Nest restricts the number of times they will call upon Earthmen loyal to their service. They were burned by Tarl many years ago when he turned his back upon them. Now we are limited in the number of times we may serve the cause on Gor. I am on my last visit, unless…

I don’t ever come back to Earth.

I simply stay there this time.

There it is. The answer that I’ve known for some time. Just don’t come back. One last one way trip to the Counter Earth, never to return to my family. But as I gaze at Ellen and the kids I feel so wretched at the thought of the lies I am going to tell. Because I can’t tell Ellen this is it.

Not on Christmas Eve.

“You could take her with you? And the kids?” suggested Tamlyn.

“She wouldn’t like it on Gor. She’s a modern woman, and wouldn’t adapt to the life of a free woman there. She refuses to wear veils here. Says it makes her look Islamic. She has a fucking point, doesn't she, though? She runs a risk walking around certain parts of London with a veil. We’re not the most tolerant of nations, us Brits.”

“At least she dresses modestly.”

I laugh. “It’s fucking winter, Tamlyn. Brass monkeys and all that. She doesn’t dress like that in summer, I can tell you.”

“Ah…” I see that slight look of disapproval flash across his face, just for a moment, before he masks it again well.

“She’s born to western traditions. Showing a bit of skin is normal to her. Don't judge her by the standards of a Gorean upbringing.”

Tamlyn is Gorean. He’s adapted well in the years he’s been here but you can never take the Sardar out of a warrior. He’s too tactful to enquire whether Ellen shows any trace of a slave belly when I have her in bed. It’s not the sort of thing he’d ask of me, though I suspect he views all Earth women as natural slaves. Goreans tend to politeness when they are guests in another man’s house.

“How’s the mulled wine?” I ask.

“Good.” He smiles and I can tell he means it. It was my mother’s recipe from way back and I’ve perfected it over the years with just the right mix of spices.

“Merry Christmas you old fucker,” I say as I toast the man who stood shoulder to shoulder with me on the battlefield of Venna. Those were glorious days. “How’s your son? He must be, what, nineteen? A man now?”

Tamlyn grins, pleased to be able to talk about his son. “He travelled to the Sardar mountains this year, as was his duty. He has a great future ahead of him. He will walk my path in the service of the Priest Kings one day, as will your Eric and Alan. And Bea will grow to be a beautiful free woman.”

Family. Family is everything.

Eric and Bea run inside, their cheeks rosy red from the cold, their arms full of sprigs of holly, shouting, laughing, so excited for Christmas. Alan isn't even two years old yet so he's missing all of this, asleep upstairs. They stamp mud from the soles of their wellington boots across the carpet, but I don’t really care. They are my kids and very soon I’ll be leaving them in the care of my free woman, my free companion, my Ellen.

She was laughing too as she followed the kids inside, and then she saw Tamlyn and her laughter faded as she looked from him to me and the meaning of his visit dawned on her, because invariably when Tamlyn visited it was with news of the Priest Kings.

“Tamlyn, hi,” she said as she ran her hand over her head and lifted the bobble hat from her hair. “I didn’t know… I wasn’t expecting you.” She glanced again at me as if to see if what she suspected was true. And then she regarded Kim, her eyes noting the collar and the tightly belted overcoat. They knew one another well, for Kim had been one of Ellen's best friends at university, which is how Tamlyn had come to notice Kim in the first place. “Kim,” she said, pleasantly enough. “How are you?”

“Well, Mistress. Thank you for asking.”

“Lady Ellen,” said Tamlyn warmly. “I would have sent word ahead of my arrival, but…”

There is always a but. I watched as Ellen lifted her hand towards Tamlyn and allowed him to gently take her wrist and plant a light kiss upon the back of her skin. Then I think it dawned on her that she was unveiled in front of a Gorean man, albeit a friend of the family. She wasn’t required to veil herself, this was her home after all, and we were on Earth, and she was a woman of Earth, but Ellen has always been respectful of my feelings and polite to our guests, especially those of the Counter Earth.

“Please forgive me, one moment…” she walked to a set of shelves and picked up a light chiffon silk scarf that she quickly wrapped loosely about her lower face. I could see Tamlyn was very pleased by this gesture of modesty. It was far more than he might expect from other Earth women of his acquaintance. I too watched with pride as my woman veiled herself before our visitor, our friend. I watched as she checked that she was adequately dressed as she removed her coat.

“Thank you, Lady Ellen,” said Tamlyn. “Your modesty does your family credit. I am proud to be Godfather to your children.”

“You are a guest in our home,” said Ellen as she moved towards me and took my arm. “It is the least I can do. Will you be staying tonight with your kajira?”

“Thank you,” I whispered to her as I kissed her forehead. “It means a lot to me.” Ellen did not like veiling herself, but she did it for me.

“If we may, gentle Lady,” said Tamlyn with a smile. “Your hospitality is generous.”

“The spare room is always available. You're always welcome. May I serve you refreshments?” she asked.

“No need. Marcellus has already offered me this… spiced ka-la-na?” He gestured with the cup towards me. “And anyway, Kim would serve if we needed anything.”

“Of course.” She glanced again at her former friend from Cardiff university. She would know instinctively how Kim might be dressed underneath that coat. “Marc makes the best mulled wine,” said Ellen as she leaned in to me and took my arm. “He always has done.”

The kids were placing the holly branches on the coffee table and obviously wanted to begin decorating the living room, but I glanced at Ellen and she nodded, understanding the children should be sent away.

“Bea,” said Ellen as she took hold of her daughter and turned her towards Eric. “Daddy has lots of catching up to do with his friend. Now you go and take your brother upstairs and play with him, okay? Stay in your room and don't come downstairs until we call you. Understand?”

“Do I have to, mummy?” she said with the irritated sigh commonplace to the older sibling of the family.

“Can I play with Bea’s dolls?” asked Eric, all excited.

“If you want,” said Ellen, with the reserved tolerance of a mother who would prefer he played with something else. “But you have some lovely toys of your own. Those toy soldiers daddy gave you for your birthday?”

“I don’t want to play with them. I want to play house with Bea’s dolls,” said Eric. I sighed and rolled my eyes at Tamlyn.

“It’s just a phase. He’s only four. He’ll grow out of it.”

“I hope so,” said Tamlyn with a smile. “One day the Sardar may call on his sword arm as they did yours.”

“And Eric will be ready when they do. He’ll be the next generation Tarl Cabot with more kajirae than he’ll know what to do with.”

“What’s a kaj-eerie…” asked Bea as she reluctantly took hold of her brother’s small hand.

“That, buttercup, you’ll never find out,” I replied as I kissed my daughter on her forehead. “It's for your brother to enjoy when he's older, not you.”

Tamlyn waited a few minutes to make sure that Bea and Eric were upstairs in my daughter's bedroom with the door shut before he motioned to Kim. The moment he did so the young kajira loosened her belt and removed the overcoat, dropping then to her knees in tower before us. As I suspected, she wore red silk and nothing else. As I gazed at Kim's slave curves, I felt Ellen squeeze my right hand, wanting perhaps to remind me that I was her companion. I gazed back at my woman and smiled, but my mind had already been distracted by the tempting offer of slave flesh. Ellen moved into my embrace as Kim crawled to where Tamlyn sat on the sofa.

“She looks so young,” whispered Ellen with a sense of loss for her own youth. Ellen and Kim were the same age, thirty two going on thirty three, but you wouldn't know it to look at Kim, for Kim looked barely twenty one, and so she would for the rest of her life. As Ellen and I aged gracefully, Kim would always remain the stunning beauty she had been at Cardiff university, shortly before Tamlyn collared her and gave her the stabilisation serum. I felt Ellen squeeze my hand again, and as I gazed at her face I saw the anxiety there that the years were separating them both. Ellen had nothing to worry about at the moment. Despite bearing me three wonderful children, her body remained sexy, mostly firm, with delicious curves to her hips and breasts, and only the faintest of laughter lines could be seen on her face. But time would work its way with her while Kim remained like Dorian Gray, eternal and perfect like some porcelain doll. It unnerved Ellen when she saw her old friend every nine months or so.

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I lay in bed listening to the soft murmurs of conversation in the nearby bedrooms as Ellen tucked the kids into bed. They wouldn’t sleep much of course, because tomorrow was Christmas Day, and their minds would be obsessing about the presents they would find under the Christmas tree. I lay in bed, and I should have been thinking of my beautiful free companion who would join me shortly, but the fact was I was thinking of my kajirae on Gor, the three of them with their soft bodies, long legs, silken tresses, the way they would crawl to my feet, beg for my touch. It had been a year since I had seen them and had them in my furs. I was especially looking forward to seeing Tarna again, the jewel in my coffle, the woman who had once led bandits in the Tahari and crossed swords with Tarl Cabot himself. Now she was nothing more than an experienced pleasure slave who writhed to my touch and performed spectacularly in bondage. In just a few days I would have them again. I would spend the first three days and nights on Gor enjoying my slaves, enjoying the pleasure a man could have on Gor.

I love Ellen, my free woman here on Earth, but the sex could never be the same. She was the mother of my children, my free companion. She would always have my heart, but it could never be the same in bed.

I watched as she crept quietly into the bedroom, dimmed the lights and smiled when she saw me on the bed.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting one of your Christmas presents early?” she asked with a mischievous grin on her face.

“The kids are in bed okay?”

“As best they can be on Christmas Eve. They’ll be hyper until morning. Eric still believes in Santa Claus, remember?”

“Hmm. And our guests?”

“Tamlyn is in bed too. I put a rug down at the foot of the bed for Kim to sleep on. You know Tamlyn doesn't allow her to sleep with him in his bed after sex?” Ellen was beautiful and in the soft ambient lighting I watched as she began to undress, pulling off first her sweater and then the layered tops beneath. She unzipped the back of her skirt and let it slide down her legs until she just wore her white knickers, basque with suspender straps, lace design stockings and those Victorian style boots I liked. She paused for a moment, letting me savour the look before she smiled and reached for the side zip of her left boot. “Christmas is coming early, Marc.”

“Don’t talk,” I said. “Just strip for me, slowly.” I watched her as she took her time with the boot, sliding it from her leg. I could see how she had reacted to my command. It excited her a little. In the privacy of our bedroom she loved me to take charge and take charge I did. It was in my blood. But she was my free companion, and I would never treat her as a slave.

She slid the second leather boot from her right leg and dropped them both on the floor. The underwear was a matching set, silk with French lace and she had obviously been wearing it all day while we looked after the kids. Her secret and now mine.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

“You. Come here.”

“Do you want me or do you want a kajira?” She moved closer to the bed. “I saw the way you looked at Kim over dinner. If you want her, Tamlyn would not refuse. I... I would understand...”

“I want my free companion.”

“Not a kajira?”

“Not now.”

In three days I would have Tarna and the other kajirae. They would be magnificent. They would serve me the way clumsy, unskilled Ellen never could. But tonight I would enjoy my free woman.

“Good. Because I want my free companion tonight. It's been a long day,” she said as she peeled her knickers away, down past her legs and kicked them onto the floor. I touched her between her legs and felt how moist she was there. I heard her sigh as I stroked her and separated her labia with a finger.

“Lie down, Ellen. Part your legs. Obey.”

She did as I ordered and then slowly, taking my time, I began to arouse her to a trembling state of excitement before I pressed the head of my penis to her sex and entered her. She gasped as she always did, but softly, not wanting to make a loud noise that Bea might question in the morning. I rode her, gazing deep into her eyes as I fucked her the way she liked, taking control, slapping her hands away as she tried to touch me. “You're not a slave,” I said, “don't try and act like one.”

She cried, chewing her lower lip as I forced her to control herself even as I excited her to the brink of an orgasm. “Hold yourself, Ellen,” I said harshly as I saw she was close and about to submit to the point of no return. And so she did, trembling, crying, hanging on in there, so close. Her hands clawed futilely at the sheets as my cock throbbed deep inside her.

“Merry Christmas, Ellen,” I said as I then made her come. And as I did so, as she writhed beneath me, making more noise than she would have liked, my thoughts returned to the kajira, Kim, lying awake on a rug in the next room, as I imagined all the delicious things Kim could do for me, that Ellen would be incapable of.

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Christmas Day 1995

Ellen has put Kim to work in the kitchen as she mixes some bucks fizz (two parts champagne to one part orange juice) for the rest of us as the kids scream and run around in the frenzied excitement that is present opening time. I can hear the tearing of paper from the living room, and can imagine what they must be like right now.

“She's not wearing the red slave silk around the kids,” Ellen had said firmly in the morning before they got up. “Tell Tamlyn he can dress Kim in something of mine.” It was a fair point, though Tamlyn would not really approve of his kajira wearing the garments of a free woman. Having said that, Ellen was a free woman and she had the right to be offended by a slave's attire, particularly in her own home.

“I'll speak to him,” I said as I kissed the side of her neck from behind as she rinsed some glasses. “She is a kajira though.”

“I don't want Bea to know about this, not yet. She's too young. It would only confuse and worry her.”

“Uh-huh.” I dipped my finger into a bowl of stuffed olives and popped a couple into my mouth.

“She's already asked about the collar Kim wears. She saw the keyhole.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I changed the subject.”

“Good for you,” I said as I kissed her again.

When Kim emerged from the guest room she was dressed in one of Ellen's white summer dresses. They're a similar build, though Ellen has more curves. She was barefoot and I could tell from the way the dress clung to her ass that she wasn't wearing any knickers. Slaves never do. Bea was too excited about her main present – a complete makeup set – to comment again on Kim's steel collar with its tiny lock. I found Bea half an hour later using Eric as a model to try out the eyeshadows from her cosmetics set.

“Beatrice, don't do that,” I said as I saw my four year old son sit patiently, cross legged on the floor, as his older sister dabbed excruciating combinations of colour around his eyes with a brush. For fuck's sake!

Eric seemed to have lost interest in his own presents, mostly war themed, and was laughing as his sister showed him each of the colour palettes in turn. He actually looked happy, playing with his sister's cosmetics. “Clean him up, Beatrice. Boys don't wear make up,” I said as I left the room. For fuck's sake. Eric is supposed to grow up to be the next Tarl Cabot. I can't have Bea using him as a make up model.

I joined Tamlyn for a glass of the bucks fizz as Ellen directed Kim to work under her watchful supervision. Despite the fact they had been at Cardiff university together, Kim now hardly dared meet Ellen's direct gaze and Ellen seemed quite strict with her at times.

“You've trained her well,” I said as I sipped the alcohol. “I still remember the night you branded her with the kef. How she screamed and begged you not to.”

“She was a very different girl back then,” said Tamlyn. “She'd thought it was just a scary and exciting game. And then suddenly it wasn't a game any more.”

“Hmm. Did I ever tell you, back then I was this close, this close, to enslaving Ellen in Cardiff? It was practically the toss of a coin back then.”

Tamlyn nodded. “You asked my advice in the Blue Bell, remember? After the fifth round. 17^th August 1986.”

“Fuck, you have a good memory.” I scratched my head and gazed at Ellen. I love her so much, but I love Gor even more. It's so hard. “What was your advice? Take her as a free companion?”

“I told you to enslave her.” Tamlyn smiled. “But you were still the romantic Earth man back then, troubled by the thought of enslaving women from your own planet. It worked out well for you though. Free companionship is a noble thing to aspire to. But she would have made a delightful kajira.”

“I guess.” I thought again of Tarna, back on Gor in the pens of Samos for safe keeping until I returned. I had been thinking of Tarna a lot these last few weeks as I waited impatiently for news from the Sardar Nest.

“Have you spoken to Ellen yet?”

“No.” Last night had just been sex. A lot of sex. I had wanted to tell her I would be leaving again, but somehow I had known she had already guessed, and that by not talking about it we could somehow forget it was going to happen for one night at least.

“You need to tell her if you're not planning on coming back. You can't just walk out with her thinking it's a mission and you'll be back in three months.”

“I know.” I poured another glass and knocked the alcohol back quickly. “But it's Christmas.”

“You should have collared and branded her in 1986. It would have made things simpler.”

“That's not the answer to everything, Tamlyn. And I wouldn't have had the kids if I had collared her.”

“True enough, my sword brother. Then how about this – don't make the decision. Your ring has two charges left, there and back. Don't decide you're not coming back to Earth. Just don't decide when the return date will be. Tell yourself you will come back one day. Keep the ring on your finger until that day comes, even if it is a couple of years from now.”

“Isn't that lying to myself, Tamlyn?”

“Better than lying to Ellen.”

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The Port of Schendi, Gor, 2024

I had come and was spent, but I remained inside Bella/Tarna as she lay on the couch in my arms, sweat glistening on her tanned skin. I licked a few drops from her shoulder and felt her nestle closer, more snugly within my embrace.

“You never fail to please me,” I said as I stroked her hair.

“And yet you will leave me here in a slave pen in Schendi when you go to your death,” she said as she refused to look up at me.

“You will live a long life when I am gone, Bella. The stabilisation serum works in your veins, unlike my own. I don’t want you to die in some dank jungle where the tree canopy obscures the sun. Where I’m going I will enter the heart of darkness itself.”

“I am yours, Master. Do not discard me because you face danger.” I felt her nails scratch softly at my chest. “You must know that by now.”

Slowly, grudgingly even, I slid out from inside Bella, leaving the soft silken sheath that gave me such pleasure. I felt her body shiver as I left her for the moment. I am old and it takes me longer than it once did to use my slave a second time in the furs. I had learned to while away the time talking and caressing that sleek girl until my stamina returned. I was dying in more ways than one.

“I don’t care about the danger. I just want to be with you, Master. If you can’t see that, if you can’t understand that, why don’t you just kill me now?”

“You’re always very emotional after sex,” I said as I continued to stroke her hair. “More so than any kajira I’ve ever had.”

“I hate the other kajirae you've had,” she hissed. “Those other girls you own. I hated the sight of them at Elysium, lying seductively at the side of your pool in your seraglio.”

“You are the most jealous kajira I have ever known.”

“Yes. Other kajirae should fear me, Master. I would rake my nails across their faces if they tried crawling to you.”

I laughed and caressed her flanks, feeling her body squirm beside mine. “Just as well I have used no girl other than you since I came here.”

“I suppose so, Master. The disfigured wailing kajirae would have been upsetting to you, I’m sure.”

Getting out of bed each morning is when the pain is at its worst. My legs in particular hurt with the first sign of movement after having lain still for hours on end. I draw a deep breath and grimace as Bella begins to massage my feet and ankles, banishing the worst of the pain with her skilled fingers. I hate her to see me like this, but strangely she doesn’t pity me. If anything she is concerned.

“How does that feel, Master?” Bella begins to work on my tight muscles, the stiff massage helping to bring my limbs back to life.

“It… helps. It helps a lot.” She’s naked except for her collar and an ankle chain. And of course I’m hard as she massages me, but for the time being she ignores my cock. I watch the head swell until I feel like touching it myself.

“That’s my job, Master,” she says with a smile as she senses what I was about to do. “Don’t even think of it.”

“You’re overstepping yourself, Bella,” I say, but there’s no anger or malice in my voice.

“No touching.” She darts me a stern look, most unbecoming for a kajira, but we have known each other now since the early nineties.

I would never tell her, but I think I love her.

That doesn't make me weak.

If you have owned a kajira for three and a half decades, love is not something you should feel ashamed of.

“When did I last whip you?” I ask as I feel the pain ease away. The secret to pain relief is to keep moving, don’t stay still for too long, because that’s when the muscles stiffen, the cramps set in, the bones begin to settle against each other at the joints and the pain begins when you move.

“I don’t think you like whipping me, Master,” she says after a while. “Do you?”

“No.” I grunt softly. “I don’t. Bella… I was thinking last night…” my voice trails away as she turns and then on all fours crawls over me to settle her face inches from my own. Her hips are positioned above my groin and I know in a moment she’s going to settle down there and impale herself on me, despite the fact I am still soft and tired from our last love making, but for the moment she just smiles and gazes into my eyes.

“You mastered the savage Tarna, bandit raider of the Tahari. And now she wears your collar, Master. She is your slave.”

I begin to grow hard, as she knew I would.

“I am your helpless kajira, Master. And I live to serve you. You have taught me my slavery so many times and now I am so wet and hot for you.”

I grew harder still.

“Teach me who is the Master here.” and then she settled down on me and I gasped as she opened to my first thrust.

She remained on top of me as she worked me hard to another orgasm and when I came again she smiled and kissed me about my mouth. I felt her hands play with my chest hair, tugging it sharply as I climaxed and when I was through she snuggled against my body again.

“I meant what I said last night, Master. You should just kill me if you’re going to abandon me to a slave pen in Schendi. I would rather a quick death to a slow one.”

“I’m going to free you, Bella.” I said at last. I had been thinking of it all night, and it was Christmas Day after all. “You’re right, I will be dead soon, and I care too much to take you with me, but I can't just leave you to an uncertain life at another man’s hands. You are my kajira, and you have made these last years bearable. I will free you today. You are a free woman. It is done.”

I looked up at her shocked face as I said those words. Formal papers would have to be drawn up, but the deed itself is done the moment I spoke the words. “What are your first words as a free woman, Bella?”

“I…”

She had been a slave since Tarl had enslaved her in the Tahari all those decades ago.

“You can’t do this,” she said as tears ran down her cheeks. “I don’t know how…”

“Free woman,” I said with a smile as I pulled her wet face down to mine and kissed her. “I will not be able to protect you soon, and so I will give you the freedom and means to protect yourself. My Bella. My most special kajira.”

After a while Bella rose from the couch and walked towards the mirror that stood at the side of the room. I lay on my side, resting on one elbow in the furs as I watched her gaze at her reflection, touching the steel that still locked about her throat.

“The key is in my belt pouch. You may take it,” I said. I watched her fingers trace the kef brand on her thigh. She was as beautiful as that first day when I saw her in the market square in the chain coffle and I knew I wanted her. Now she was a free woman.

“Merry Christmas,” I said.

“Christmas?”

“It has meaning on Earth. Presents are given. This is your Christmas present.” A thought crossed my mind. “You can be Tarna again, if you wish. Or Bella. Or any other name you desire.”

“Tarna…” she mouthed the word carefully, sounding it as she would sound the name of a free woman, “Bella is a slave name.”

“It is that. So, Tarna then?”

“I don’t know.” She turned to face me. “Tarna surrendered and yielded in the Kasbah decades ago. Tarna begged slavery. Tarna is a slave.” She crossed back to the bed, the chain locked around her ankle slithering across the wooden floor as she moved. “You know what they say?”

“I don't care what they say,” I replied gruffly. Had I made a mistake? She was free now, and suddenly because of that I wanted her again. I wanted to seize her and press her to the bed and fuck her hard. Perhaps because I no longer could.

“They say that only a fool frees a slave.” She crawled back onto the bed and then knelt on the furs gazing down at me where I lay. “Are you a fool, Marcellus?”

“Perhaps.” I felt myself grow hard again. This was quicker than I was used to in recent years.

“Free my ankle,” said Bella in a voice that sounded angry. “Do it now!” she added when I hesitated.

“Do not take that tone with me, Bella.”

“I will take any tone I wish now that you have freed me. My ankle!” She turned, rested her weight on her left hand and slid the ankle towards me. I reached for the key that lay on the side table and, taking that beautiful ankle in one hand, unlocked the chain with the other. I knew what she was doing. She was being deliberately provocative to get a reaction from me. And I knew what reaction she wanted.

“Let go of me!” she snarled, pulling her ankle free the moment the chain was released. “And don't look at me like that!” she snarled again. “I am a free woman now. Avert your eyes!”

I continued to gaze at her as I wished, my cock throbbing hard as I drew in some breath. Angry, she rose from the couch and prowled the room, no longer encumbered by the ankle chain.

“You seem angry that I have freed you,” I said.

“I am angry that you are a fool!” she span round and glared at me as she picked up the key to her collar. “The brave Marcellus, so strong on the battlefield, but weak when it comes to keeping a woman in his collar. No woman respects a man who frees her!”

“I don't want you to die, Bella. I want you to be safe when I'm gone. You can choose your own destiny, your own life now.”

“Take me with you!” she said again. She had not yet freed herself of the collar.

“No. You are a free woman. The dark interior of the jungle is no place for a free woman. I will give you funds to start a new life for yourself here in Schendi or elsewhere.” I reached for a pouch heavy with silver coins and threw it to the floor by her bare feet.

She simmered with rage where she stood. And still she had not used the key to her collar. But as I watched she scooped up the bag of money.

“What am I to do with this?” she said.

“Buy yourself a life. It's a lot of silver. Enough to hire armed men to take you safely to wherever you want to live on Gor.”

“And be a free woman? Wear robes of concealment? Live a chaste life, after four decades as a slave? Forget the things I have learned about my body, about myself?”

I shrugged. “I can only provide you with the means to make a choice, I can't make the choice for you.”

“I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me.”

I was genuinely surprised. “You want to be a slave? When I first bought you, you tried to run away. You were the proud Tarna.”

“Yes! And you caught me, and you taught me I was not so proud after all.”

“Then be a slave.” I lay back on the couch. “Beg a passing man of your choice to enslave you.”

“I can't do that. You know I can't.”

“I will never truly understand women. What do you want then, Bella?”

“I want to be with you to the end! I want you to want me so much that it tears you up inside to even think of freeing me! I want you to be the sort of man who would take the whip to my back if I even tried to remove this collar. What sort of man are you that you would free a natural slave?”

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Christmas Day 1995 – late evening

Tamlyn and I sat in armchairs nursing good glasses of brandy as Ellen returned from putting the children to bed. She seemed tense and tired, as if she knew any time now I would tell her the true purpose of Tamlyn's visit, and that I would be leaving again for what she assumed might be three months.

Kim was naked as soon as the kids had left, and lay with her head in Tamlyn's lap as he stroked her hair with his fingers. I saw how Ellen's eyes narrowed as she saw her friend from university pleasing her master by kissing his hand, but she didn't say anything.

“At least dress her in the red silk,” said Ellen eventually, a note of irritation in her voice. “This is my home, remember.”

“I'm sorry, Lady,” said Tamlyn, the brandy, wine and good food obviously having relaxed his standards somewhat. “I wasn't thinking.” He motioned for Kim to hurry and fetch the silk she wore when she was permitted to wear anything at all. Ellen watched her go with a frown of quiet disapproval. “Dinner was exquisite,” added Tamlyn. “I have never eaten finer.”

“Thank you.” Now Ellen sat herself down on the arm of my chair and ran her fingers through my hair possessively. She was modestly attired and had a scarf wound loosely over her head hiding her hair from view. I motioned for her to lift and adjust the scarf to cover her lower face which grudgingly she did. There was a chill silence for a minute or two until Ellen spoke the words she'd been bottling up.

“How long this time?”

“A few months, plus travel time.” I shrugged. “It's always hard to tell. When the Nest calls...”

“You'll miss Eric's birthday.”

“I'm sorry.” I gestured with my hands as if to say, what can I do?

“And what about Alan? He hardly knows you. He's not even two years old!”

“It's a few months, Ellen. And then I'll come home. You'll see.”

-----------------------------------

The Port of Schendi, Gor, 2024

I picked up the empty collar from the wooden floor where Bella had thrown it. She was gone now, somewhere downstairs perhaps. She would need clothes. I'd ask Tamlyn to arrange it. Tomorrow I would oversee the loading of our three expedition barges and on the following morning we would set off up river into the unexplored jungle. I would never see Bella again.

But then, I should be used to that sort of thing by now, shouldn't I?

I rubbed my right eye. For some stupid reason it was watering.

Fucking eye.