Ubara of Gor Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Yishana plays a very dangerous game indeed...

“I think we need to cut your hair, Mistress,” I said as I undid her long braid and let her dark mane fall free around her shoulders. “Just a little. It is very long.” We stood in a small abandoned room above the notorious Wharf of Chains close to the thriving working docks of the island city of Asperiche. I suspected the closest Yishana had got to a hair cut in the recent past was to trim the ends periodically. It was glossy and in good condition, but when fully unbraided it hung to her lower back.

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Yishana had laid out her basic plan to me after our visit to the chain wharf to inspect the building, and later that afternoon we had refined it together with me making some suggestions until we had something that seemed both workable and reasonably safe.

Yishana desired to know what it might be like to fur with a man who did not know her identity and who therefore had no reason to treat her gently with respect. On the Larl itself that was impossible, but in Asperiche it might be possible for her to couple with a man if she disguised herself as someone other than Yishana of the Black Coast. We had discussed the matter obliquely the night before.

“I could be an anonymous free woman looking for love,” she said with enthusiasm. “I could entice a man to visit my private rooms where my Askaris would conceal themselves close by in case of trouble.”

“And how would you actually find a man, Mistress?” I asked. “In such a short time as we will be anchored at the port to resupply? Asperiche does not have places where free women may mingle with men in search of sex. It is just not done.”

“Oh.” Yishana knew I spoke truth. There are no 'dating bars' in Gorean cities.

And so Yishana had proposed her current, rather more audacious plan.

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“Why do you want to cut my hair?” said Yishana.

“Because it’s too long. We don’t want you to stand out. We don’t want you to be scrutinised because of some identifiable feature like your hair length. Let me trim and shape it. When the hair is braided again it will be impossible to tell anything has been done to it, but worn loose it will make you look significantly different.”

“How much will you cut?” Yishana ran her hands through her long tresses. I could see she was very proud of the incredible length of her hair.

“I know what I’m doing Mistress. Let me cut it the same length as white slave-girls typically have theirs.” This would be just below the shoulder blades, a far more manageable length that was easier to take care of and wouldn’t interfere in chores and other duties. A girl with hair the length of Yishana’s would find it difficult to carry out various jobs set by her Master without it getting in the way.

“I don’t want a slave’s hair cut!”

“No one will see it when your hair is braided again. People will just think the length has been trimmed at last. And it will grow again in the braid. I’ll make you look beautiful, Mistress.”

“Beautiful?” Yishana gazed at herself in her mirror. She was already beautiful of course, but with a slave-like hair cut she would be more beautiful still.

“Trust me, a girl always feels better when she has had her hair styled.” I placed a hand on my left hip and smiled. “It’s like buying new shoes.”

“New shoes?” Yishana frowned. “I do not buy new shoes...”

“No, I suppose you don’t…” I shrugged. “But believe me that’s something else you’re missing out on. Shoes are wonderful. They really are.” I thought back to all the wonderful shoes I owned on Earth. It's one of the things I miss, being on Gor. No high heels.

“I will never understand you, Emma.”

“Okay, but the hair, Mistress… I’m really worried you might be recognised with your hair this length. It’s a risk. You're the only woman on the Larl with hair this long. It's a free woman's length.”

Yishana still looked troubled by this; she really felt reluctant to lose any of her hair length, but she understood I was telling the truth as I saw it. “Very well, but take too much off and I will beat you.”

“That’s… that’s not conducive to me working calmly, Mistress.”

I had brought along some dye that was temporary and would wash out easily. It was auburn in colour since Yishana’s hair was naturally dark and trying to bleach it blonde would be far too permanent. The transition from dark to auburn was far easier if she wanted to get rid of the colour quickly. Auburn hair has the advantage too that it is generally considered the most desirable colour in slaves as far as Gorean men are concerned. If you are an Earth girl with auburn hair and you are beautiful, be sure that you run a risk if a slaver on Earth spots you.

There had been a girl on Brinn’s estate with auburn hair called Shannon. She had been enamoured with Simon of all people and had with Brinn’s support, contrived to end up in his furs one night. Brinn had been prepared to give Shannon to Simon soon after, but Simon had told Brinn he intended to free the girl. I was actually jealous of Shannon’s beautiful hair. I think most of the girls on the estate were. Men often remarked on it and I know she took incredible pride in the colour. She was very lucky.

The dye was in the form of a paste and I rubbed this in to Yishana’s hair as she knelt on the wooden floor. I worked the dye into her long tresses with my hands, letting it set for five minutes or so before then washing it out in a large wooden tub of water. The water was cold, but Yishana was tougher than most free women and accepted that without complaint. When I had finished, her hair was now a beautiful reddish brown in tone.

Then as she fidgeted, not liking the fact that I was bringing a pair of steel scissors to play on her luscious hair, I began to cut at it, trimming it quite radically down into a manageable shape and length.

“What are you doing!” said Yishana in alarm as she saw how long the cut lengths seemed to be.

“It will grow back, Mistress,” I said. She really wasn’t happy. “Do you want to call this off?” I asked. “It’s not too late.”

“No.” Yishana held her head up. “Do what you must.”

The Chain Wharf is situated in a derelict section of the bustling docks in Asperiche and is immensely popular with sailors and pirates who may have been sailing the Thassa for many weeks. Originally it must have been a thriving wharf catering for multiple merchant vessels, for the structure itself appears to have been a storage area for cargo. Imagine a long brick front wall two storeys high that runs all the way along a wharf front, maybe set back twenty feet back from the water side. The front facing has twelve cave mouths (for want of a better word) that are open to the elements. Inside each cave mouth is a wide annex area surrounded in a concave circle by eight recessed rooms varying in size, but none larger than maybe eight feet square. These recessed areas are also open but fitted with iron gates of criss crossing bars that can be padlocked shut. I suppose when the area was a thriving part of the trade port the front facings of the cave mouths must also have had secure doors, but if so these are long since gone since no one stores goods here any more. Instead the area is open during the day as a sort of car boot version of an open sided brothel. Masters who own slaves can rent one of the cave mouths for the day, or perhaps if he only has a couple of slaves, part rent one in conjunction with other men. He places his slaves in the recessed pens where they are clearly visible to anyone who chooses to enter the area annex, and he chalks on a small slate plaque hanging from a chain from the front bars, the use price for his girls and maybe a few words describing her level of ability. An honour system applies here which Goreans tend to respect. A man simply places his coins in a locked box that is secured to the front of the barred room and he makes use of the slave until he is satisfied he has had his money’s worth. Her use might be ten minutes or three hours. The girls are usually secured within the individual pens by neck chains or ankle chains, not only so that they may not try to escape, but also so that they cannot be stolen.

Above these recessed areas is the second storey that can be reached by a series of steps inside each annex area. The annex areas are bare brick with cold flat flagstones covered in fresh straw. The same applies to the pens themselves, though piles of matted sacking are provided for a girl to lie on when she is being used. Upstairs is pretty much derelict, each area consisting of a small landing leading to one, two or maybe even three rooms that were also once used for storage. Nowadays the rooms are little used though empty barrels and boxes may remain in varying conditions.

Yishana had decided to rent one of the annex area in the chain wharf on the pretext of making some money out of the slaves belonging to the Larl. Her real reason for doing so was that she might pose briefly as a freshly purchased girl who had fallen into slavery, and with my cooperation be inserted into the coffle of girls placed on display late in the afternoon.

“I only wish to experience sex with a man on those intimate terms once, Emma, so while the ship board slaves will be exhibited in the pens throughout the day, you and I will appear to arrive late in the day, shortly before the Chain Wharf closes, with only enough time for me to sample the experience in controlled circumstances the once. We will actually arrive at the chain wharf in advance of Naomi and the other slaves and hide ourselves in one of the upstairs rooms which are private. They will not know that. There I will change from my usual gowns and will then come down when it is time. There is no need for me to mingle with the girls beforehand. I obviously do not wish them to see me any more than is strictly necessary. In fact, maybe when we return I will have them blindfolded. Afterwards you and I will return to the Larl. I will give Naomi instructions that the new girl – that is me - is to be immediately escorted to Yishana's cabin on the pretext that I will wish to speak to the new girl. In the privacy of my own cabin I will then change back. The mysterious new slave girl will then simply disappear. If anyone enquires after her I will simply say I grew tired of her and sold her the next morning.”

As a plan it still had risks, but I could see that Yishana had minimised most of them. I would disguise her appearance to the best of my ability, and by minimising any contact with the ship board slaves, and by having her escorted back to the Larl as part of the slave coffle by the Askaris, it all seemed safe enough. But still, I thought it was a reckless thing for Yishana to indulge for the sake of a new sexual experience.

By the time I was finished cutting, there was a lot of hair on the wooden floor of this abandoned store room. Yishana now sported a slave-girl hair style – a cascading flame cut that fell about her shoulders and was parted to one side. I had been right, she looked even more beautiful now. I had decided she wouldn’t see her new look until I had applied the second stage of her disguise which was her makeup, and so I now brought the rolled sheet of leather containing all my brushes and cosmetics tucked inside it in various pockets. I set to work as best I could since she kept twitching every time I came near her with a brush or sponge.

“Please keep still, Mistress.” Quite obviously she had never applied makeup before or had anyone apply it to her.

“I don’t like this.” She said. “I can’t see what you’re doing!”

“Just trust me. This is going to be a good disguise.” And it was. By the time I was finished Yishana was unrecognisable. Her slave hair cascaded around a face that had smouldering kohl lined eyes, highlighted cheekbones, blusher, heavy slave lipstick and mascara. She would be irresistible to men.

“What have you done? Show me?”

And so I did. I allowed her to turn round and gaze at the mirror on the wall, seeing her own reflection for the first time. I knew I had done a good job when she screamed and quickly silenced herself with a hand to her mouth.

“What have you done!” Her eyes seemed startled. She had never imagined she could look like this.

“Yishana, the beautiful slave-girl of Gor,” I said with a sweep of my hand.

“This is too much! I hardly recognise myself!”

“And that was the point, Mistress. If YOU don’t recognise yourself like this…”

“I look like a slave!” She turned her head to the left and then the right, shocked by what I had made her look like.

“I have your other things ready here, Mistress,” I said as I indicated the contents of a leather satchel that I had laid out on the couch. Yishana looked at them for the first time. There was a strip of white rep cloth, one foot wide and five feet long that would be wound about her hips after she disrobed. There were two strings of brightly coloured wooden beads, some decorative bangles and of course, a steel slave collar.

Yishana seemed even more troubled as she looked at these items.

“Do you wish to still proceed, Mistress?” I stood there ready for whatever decision she might make.

“I am Yishana,” she said. “I am not afraid.”

“Very well.” I stepped forward and with my hands undid the sash belt about her waist. I unfastened the clasps of her silken gown and slipped it from her body. I peeled away her under-slip and regarded her so far. Were it not for the lack of a brand she might well be a slave-girl. Yishana glanced again at the mirror on the wall and stared in shock at how she looked now she was stripped of her clothes.

“Slave,” she said to the girl who gazed back at her from the mirror.

I smiled softly, pleased with her reaction. Then I picked up the strip of cloth and wound it about her hips, tucking it tightly to hold it in place. The garment could of course be peeled away from her body with ease if a man chose to do so. I then adorned her neck with the beads and slipped the ornamental bangles on each of her wrists. If there had ben any doubt before, these accoutrements served to further suggest she was a slave. Finally there was the collar. I picked up the rigid cold band of steel and showed it to her.

“What does it say?” she asked, for she could not read Gorean.

“It says Mina – property of the Larl of the Thassa.”

“Who is Mina?”

“Why, you are Mistress. That is your name today. You are the slave girl, Mina.”

“I do not like that name.”

“I am sorry, but it is a bit late to change it. The engraving has been made.”

It was a good quality collar with a smooth locking mechanism that clicked softly into place as I closed it about Yishana’s lovely throat. Slave collars on Gor are hand made by craftsmen for this is a primitive world that has not reached the level of industrialisation. The quality of a collar can vary depending on the metal worker and locksmith involved. I have seen some cheap collars adorning the throats of women in my time, sometimes crude affairs with simple clunky locks, but this was one of the better ones. It looked beautiful on Yishana’s throat.

“I am collared,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress, and so your disguise is complete.” I turned her about gently so that she might regard herself once again in the mirror.

“The key,” said Yishana as she held out her right hand. “I will have it now.”

“Mistress?” I seemed confused.

“The key,” said Yishana again, somewhat irritated by my tardy response. “Give it to me. I shall carry it with me at all times.”

“But I do not have it Mistress. The key is with the other collar keys on board the Larl.”

“What do you mean by that?” Yishana now looked alarmed. The key wasn’t here in this room?! The key was on board her ship, a considerable distance from here where she would not be able to reach it without first passing through the streets of Asperiche. This was not malicious on my part. It was a sensible precaution as I tried to explain.

“It would not be safe to have the key, Mistress. Supposing it was lost? Supposing we had it with us and it was taken from us or dropped? You would then have to find someone who could remove the collar from your neck with tools, but to do so you would have to reveal the fact that you wore a collar. Also, where would you carry it? Observe the brevity of your garments – the small strip of cloth about your hips. There is nowhere to hide a key upon your body dressed like that. And imagine if a man found the key on your person? Imagine how angry he would be. He would assume you had stolen it. You would be beaten.”

“But the collar…” Yishana placed her hands on her collar and pulled at it. Why do women always do that? Surely they understand that once the steel is locked in place it will not come away again without the key? Surely they do not expect to find the lock is faulty and that it can be removed with ease? But they always tug at it.

“It is securely upon you, Mistress. Be sure of that.”

Yishana turned to the mirror again, alarmed, and horrified by the revelation that she could not remove the collar until she returned to the Larl. “No! You should have brought the key!”

“You did not ask me to, Mistress. But the key is safe on the Larl with the others. You will be able to unlock the collar in the privacy of your cabin. There is nothing to fear.”

“But until then?”

“Until then it is locked upon you. It is a slave collar after all.”

“But I am not a slave!”

“I suspect the collar does not know that, Mistress. Please do not blame the collar for its ignorance. It simply does what it was made to do.”

“I do not like this, Emma. I had thought I could remove the collar at any time, if for example I changed my mind.”

“It is a bit late for that now, Mistress. But I suppose we could return to the Larl. However your gown does not have a high neckline The collar would be visible if you changed back to your clothes. You could of course return to the Larl dressed in just the length of rep cloth, but the gang plank will be raised by now and you would have to call out to the Askaris on board to allow you access. Not knowing your true identity, they would almost certainly chain you to one of the slave rings to await the return of the other girls. It would be embarrassing to say the least.”

We didn’t leave the room immediately for it was obvious to me that Yishana needed some time to compose herself before doing so. Twice she tried to leave the room, and twice she stopped herself at the very doorway and couldn’t go any further. It was the collar you see, the collar that she couldn’t remove. I should perhaps have brought the key but my experiences on Gor to date had taught me not to take risks like that. Imagine if we had lost it, or if it had been found. It would be safe on the Larl and besides, if Yishana baulked at something as simple as wearing a collar without a key as part of her disguise, then maybe this whole deception was a step too far for her.

“Are you ready, Mistress? Once we go down there you will be committed until we are taken back to the Larl this evening?”

“I know.” Yishana looked at me with such conflicted emotions. She was dreading this, and yet she had a burning curiosity to experience her sexual potential as a woman might feel if she was truly taken by a man who accorded her no respect or artificial politeness. She had glimpsed the merest hint of what it might be like when she had allowed Simon to take her, but she had been a long way from having the slave fires ignited in her belly. But she sensed the possibility, I think. Could she return to her cabin knowing she would remain unfulfilled and that there would not be another opportunity until next time we made land fall? I suspected she was burning up inside now, burning with need, for I had felt that at times when for one reason or another I had been without sex for a time. So yes she was torn between wanting to run away from this degrading moment and desperately wanting fulfilment as a woman. Which way would she turn?

“I can’t do this, Emma. I am Yishana, it is not right.”

I nodded. So be it. Now we’d have the problem of getting her back to the ship before darkness fell. I would have preferred the security of the Askaris leading us back on a slave chain, but needs must. Why couldn’t she have decided that before the collar was locked about her throat though?

“I have an idea Mistress. We can use the length of rep cloth around your hips as a scarf of sorts to disguise the presence of the collar. That way you do not have to remain dressed as a slave when we return to the Larl. It will be less demeaning for you. Once on board we will unlock the collar with the key and wash the dye from your hair. It is a relatively short walk to the docks, but we should stick to the main thoroughfares to be on the safe side.”

Yishana place a hand against the mirror and then pressed her forehead to it. She moaned softly. She was I think disappointed with herself that she was now not going to truly know what a true orgasm might feel like. There would not be another chance for weeks, maybe months, and then her courage would probably desert her again anyway. And in the meantime she would lie on her couch frustrated, knowing that the sex I could offer her would be a shadow of the sex she had let slip through her fingers.

“Mistress? “I said.

“I hate feeling this way. I am Yishana! I must be stronger than this!”

“I understand, Mistress. I’ll just check that the coast is clear and then we’ll slip out of here before the others arrive.”

“It was a mistake, Emma. I will not allow it to happen again.” She stood there looking so much like a slave. It was perhaps good that she had changed her mind, for if a man saw her like this he would undoubtedly subject her to the strictest of slave ravishments. I do not think there would be any way back for Yishana if she spent hours in a kennel cage dressed and made up the way she was with a man who had paid for her use. She had no idea really what would have happened. She had I suppose a romantic fantasy in her kind of being ravished in the furs while being held. She could barely comprehend how far it might actually go – the things she might be compelled to do to give pleasure. She had chosen wisely I think. I didn't want anything bad to happen to Yishana, because if I'm being honest she had been a good Mistress to me. Particularly as regards the way free women generally treated me. It would be an easy slavery in her collar if she decided to keep me – something I hoped to persuade her to do. I could face a number of fates far worse than being Yishana's slave on board the Larl. So yes, it was in my interests to look out for her now and ensure she did not do anything stupid, for in some ways she was very naïve, particularly in the ways of men and her own sexual responses to them. She had been protected from her own feelings by Kerim Shah I think.

“What was I thinking?” said Yishana with a soft laugh as she placed her hand against the image in the mirror. “Look at that slave! That is not me! I could never be her. It was a moment of rash madness, but it is over. I am Yishana again. I do not wear cosmetics. I do not stand before men in a collar and alluring posture. We shall go.”

“It's probably for the best, Mistress.” I sighed and set about packing up my cosmetics as Yishana turned and looked at herself in the mirror again. Unless I was very much mistaken she was fascinated by the way she looked. “Free women shouldn't play at these things. It rarely works out well.”

“You are a good slave, Emma. I like you.” Yishana gazed at me again. “You know that?”

“Yes I do. You have been kinder to me than any other free woman I've ever known. Though you can be very scary at times.”

Yishana seemed pleased by the observation. “Come here.' She motioned for me to join her in front of the mirror, which of course I did. Standing there was our reflection – to the casual eye just two slave girls belonging to the Larl. “We make quite the pair, don't we?”

“I suppose we do, Mistress.” There was no mistaking the fact she looked like a genuine slave.

“You have helped me today, Emma, even if nothing came of it in the end. I will remember that, sweet little kajira.” And then she kissed me softly. “You will please me tonight in my furs and I will try and forget about men.”

No chance of that, I thought to myself. The forgetting about men bit that is. Feelings had been aroused inside her belly ever since she had taken Simon as her silk slave and they showed no signs of going away anytime soon. “Shall we get you dressed, Mistress? I folded and placed your robes and slippers out of sight behind the crates.”

“Just a moment longer,” she said as she posed with a hand on one of her hips before the mirror. “I want to look at Mina again.” She laughed and seemed to be delighted by what she saw. “Would men want Mina?”

“Yes, mistress, I have no doubt they would.” I listened to her laugh again. “We can always play dress up in your cabin tonight if you wish? We can pretend to be two slave girls chained by our collars to to the bed, waiting for a master to come for us?” I saw the flash of excitement in her eyes and so I continued with the description of the made-up fantasy. “You could pretend to be a new girl and I could show you with my hands and my mouth what would be expected of you when...” I froze, as did Yishana for we both then heard sounds coming from the stairs. Multiple feet climbing the stairs towards this room.

“What?” Yishana turned towards the door, her hands automatically clenching as if to grasp a weapon, but of course she had none. And then suddenly the door to the room swung open and standing there, having arrived earlier than expected, was Naomi and a few of her girls from the Larl.

“What are you doing up here, Emma?” There was suspicion in Naomi’s voice as she stood in the now open doorway with a slave crop in her right hand. Behind her I could see the girls, Asha and Imani. The others were no doubt downstairs. Naomi glanced around the room. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be waiting for me downstairs. Is this the new slave?” She turned and looked straight at Yishana who to her shame blushed at the prospect of being seen like this by her slaves. No doubt her heart was beating wildly in fear that she might be recognised, but I felt sure that her disguise was very good. The new hair style, hair colour and heavy makeup had transformed her into another girl entirely. And of course she now wore a slave collar.

“It is, Mistress,” I said. “I am sorry. I took her up here to talk to her for a few minutes. She is new to slavery and scared.”

Yishana had turned her face away from the girls, afraid of being recognised if they looked too closely, but the girls it seemed mistook that for shyness. Naomi smiled at her. “Pretty little thing aren’t you. Nadu, Kajira!” barked Naomi at Yishana. Yishana looked startled by the sudden tone of the girl’s voice. When Yishana didn’t immediately react to the command, Naomi cracked her whip against the floor.

“Nadu, Mina,” I said quickly, and confidently, not wanting Yishana to feel the lash by accident. That might be awkward for all of us after she was back in her fine robes with the collar gone from her throat. “That means kneel, you stupid girl!” I said as I nodded quickly at Yishana. For God’s sake woman, just do it, I thought to myself.

Luckily Yishana was a bit smarter than the average free woman who might find herself in such an awkward and embarrassing situation, and with just a momentary look of annoyance at Naomi, she dropped to her knees on the floor, acting a role for appearance's sake. “Nadu, not Tower,” I said before Naomi might say it, and do so with the slave crop as emphasis. I touched her knees with the ball of my foot and that was enough for Yishana to part them in front of her slave-girl.

“Has she not had any training?” asked Naomi.

“I think not. She is a new slave, and therefore quite cheap. The Mistress took a shine to her as we passed through the market.”

“I see.” Naomi walked towards Yishana and put her hand in her hair, lifting her head up. If looks could kill, Yishana’s gaze now would have slain a Tharlarion at eighty paces. It's a good thing Yishana wasn't holding a knife, because if she had been I think Naomi would be dead now.

“Oh, you don’t like me doing that, hmm?” said Naomi with a smile. “Are we still a little proud and haughty despite being collared? What is your name, girl?”

I noticed Yishana curled her fingers into small fists. I prayed she wouldn’t cause a scene. That would be bad for everyone, including her dignity when she was found out. Then to my relief she unclenched those fingers and said, “Mina.”

The slap hit her hard across the face and knocked her back on her heels. Naomi it seemed was quite strong for a Kajira. “You say, Mina, Mistress!” barked the black girl. “Repeat!” She prodded Yishana with the slave crop.

“Touch me again with that whip and you will quickly regret it,” snarled Yishana. Naomi’s reaction was of course predictable enough.

The slave crop came down hard on Yishana’s back and, as I knew she would, Yishana sprang at Naomi in fury. I suppose Naomi assumed Yishana was some easily intimidated free woman who had recently been enslaved. She was evidently taken by surprise by an angry Yishana who leapt at her, bowling her over in quick succession. Yishana was looking for blood, but it seemed that Naomi was no weak girl either, and ignorant of Yishana’s true identity, was only too prepared to defend herself against what she thought was a common slave. The two women rolled on the floor with Yishana trying to punch Naomi in the face with her balled fist. But Naomi was stronger than Yishana and she managed to seize her Mistress's wrist and push the fist back. Even so she was stunned by the sheer ferocity of Yishana’s sudden attack.

I had no idea what to do. It wasn’t my place to announce Yishana’s true identity, but if I didn’t do something one or both of the girls could get hurt, and although I assumed it would be Naomi, the black girl seemed very adept at fighting back. Yishana seemed surprised herself by how competent Naomi was in a bare knuckle tussle. I suppose she thought the slave-girl would just roll over and cower, but life in the pens can toughen up some girls, and that seemed to be the case with Naomi. Also I think Yishana wasn’t used to fighting without being under the influence of the narcotics that Kerim Shah made her inhale before each ship board battle. The drugs probably boosted her adrenalin and made her fearless. Fighting without the comfort zone of the drugs would feel strange. But even so, Yishana meant business. Yishana and Naomi landed savage blows on one another and neither looked like they would give ground until Imani and Asha suddenly intervened on Naomi’s behalf. Whereas I stood there stunned into indecision, these girls were loyal to their first girl, and they were not going to stand by while her authority was challenged by a white skinned girl new to the collar. Imani suddenly grabbed hold of Yishana’s flame cut hair and pulled hard, dragging her back. Naomi took this opportunity as Yishana was distracted to punch her in the stomach. It was a good strong blow and with it Yishana doubled up, almost vomiting from the strike. Imani took the opportunity to pull hard again on Yishana's hair, throwing the Mistress on to her back. Asha dropped onto her with the full weight of her lithe body, pinning Yishana to the ground as Naomi jumped to her feet covered in dust and grime from the filthy floor. Together they wrestled a screaming, hissing Yishana on to her belly as I watched in horror, knowing this could only end terribly for everyone in this room.

“Let me go! Let me go!” Screamed Yishana as the girls easily overpowered her by working together.

“I’ve had enough of this,” said Naomi. “Bind her.”

Imani and Asha did so, securing Yishana’s wrists behind her back with a length of binding fibre. Now she really was hissing and spitting curses at them like some wild cat. She was of course making things even worse for herself, for unless she revealed her true identity, Naomi would be forced to stamp her authority on this recalcitrant slave.

“Please Mistress,” I said in an appeal to Naomi, “she is just a foolish girl new to her collar. Forgive her in her ignorance.”

“I can’t forgive this,” snapped Naomi as she inspected the heavy bruises on her arms and thighs. There were similar bruises on Yishana’s body now. Yishana could stop all of this of course by simply revealing who she was, but the shame in doing so would be absolute. I understand something of this for there had been a night out in London many years ago when I had still been a confused Eric Anderson, long before Kurii science had changed my body, and I had dressed up in a mini-skirted dress and heels and gone clubbing early on in my days as a cross dressing man. I had spent most of my money and had ventured to a cash point to get some more to pay for a taxi home that night only to find I had forgotten to switch my bank cards from my male wallet to the girlie purse in my handbag. I was stuck in Central London near Covent Garden without any means to draw money from a hole in the wall machine. It was late at night and I was wearing four inch heels and a slutty looking dress and I faced a worrying 40 minute walk home if I couldn’t pay for a cab. The thing is, I had passed by the front of a Chinese restaurant an hour ago with my T-girl friends, and I had seen a few of my vanilla male friends eating in there. They were in there still. I had the option of going in there dressed and made up as I was and revealing the truth about myself in order to ask them to lend me money. There would be the embarrassment of telling them the truth about my trans life and the embarrassing questions that would follow, and of course the possibility that they would go on to tell other people, but it would have saved me a scary walk home. But I couldn’t do it. I walked home instead, feeling nervous every time a man walked towards me on the same side of a darkened street.

So I could understand why the fear of humiliation was paramount on Yishana’s mind and it meant she wasn’t prepared to reveal who she really was to these girls. And if she wouldn’t do so, it was not my place to make that decision for her.

Yishana struggled on her belly, her wrists now firmly bound. Naomi suddenly pulled her up on to her knees by her hair and slapped her hard against the face. I saw blood on Yishana’s lips where it had trickled down from her nose. And then Naomi lifted her on to her feet by her hair and savagely pulled her head down to waist height as if in leading position.

“Follow me,” Naomi said to me and the other girls as she brutally dragged Yishana by her hair out of the room and down the creaking steps to the annex area below. There she threw Yishana onto her belly again close by a heavy iron slave ring fitted into the cement and flagstone floor. “Fetch a proper whip,” said Naomi to Imani. Oh God, she was going to whip Yishana!

“Mistress, please don’t do this,” I begged for Yishana’s sake. But it was like appealing to the wind not to become a storm. Naomi was enraged by Yishana’s behaviour and it was understandable if you assumed Yishana was just a common slave. She would be punished for offending and striking a First Girl.

Yishana was not used to being overpowered, especially not by girls. Her struggles grew more frantic still as realisation dawned that she couldn’t win here. Working together the three girls could easily win any conflict, and I was beginning to suspect that Naomi even on her own could eventually overpower Yishana, though she would suffer badly in the process. Yishana’s wrists were freed, only for her arms to be dragged forward, lashed together again, but this time to the slave ring. The bonds were short enough that she could not rise to her feet, but could only kneel at the ring with her back exposed. Now Imani handed Naomi the full size Gorean whip – that savage five bladed whip that I feared from punishments in the past. I think Yishana must have seen it out of the corner of her eye for she began to pull frantically where her wrists were helplessly bound to the slave ring.

“No! No! You cant do this! You can’t!” Her protests were abruptly stilled as Naomi swung the whip and brought it down hard against Yishana’s back. She screamed. My God how she screamed. She had expected it to hurt I suppose, but not like this. Shock radiated from her eyes as a second blow landed and then a third. free women have no idea how much the slave whip hurts until they feel it themselves. It is terrible. And Naomi was stronger than most girls, and she wielded the whip with the added advantage of a furious rage because this white skinned girl had dared to challenge her authority. Three more blows rained down and I saw Yishana's body sink to the floor in pain She was weeping. The Ubara of the Black Coast was tied to a common slave ring and was crying now.

“Please, no more!” She begged as a seventh blow came down. She was being lashed so hard. I flinched from the sound of each blow myself, for I had memories of my own of how it might feel. But Naomi had no intention of stopping yet. By the tenth blow Yishana’s pleas grew more frantic.

“Please, please, please… no more, Mistress, no more…” she begged.

Naomi curled her mouth into a satisfied smile. The slave slut was calling her Mistress now. She was learning. Naomi walked round to stand in front of Yishana.

Do not think too badly of Yishana if you happen to be a woman who has never felt the Gorean whip yourself. Your ignorance leaves you in no position to pass judgement on her. Believe me, potential sister in bondage, when I say to you that the lash makes us all slaves and teaches us quickly our submission.

“Do you wish to feel the whip further?” asked Naomi as she held the blades of the whip to dangle before Yishana’s tear stained face.

“No, please no, no more…” she cried.

“What are you, girl?”

“A slave, mistress, a slave…”

“An obedient slave?”

“Yes, Mistress, yes…” Yishana’s body shook where she knelt. She had never experienced such blinding pain before and she understood that the ten lashes could easily become twenty and then thirty and then forty if needs be.

“Who is your Mistress?” asked Naomi.

“You are my Mistress.” Yishana lowered her head, seeming somehow to know this would placate Naomi a little.

“Perhaps you lie. Perhaps you are still disobedient in your heart but you simply say these things to escape any further beating?”

“No Mistress, I am obedient. I am a slave!”

“We shall see.” Naomi licked her fingers. “Emma, untie this slave. Put her on her belly on the flagstones.”

I hurried to Yishana's beaten body and untied her wrists. They were red from where she had struggled furiously against the bindings. She would be marked by these lines and the marks of the whip for a few days to come.

“Tell them who you are and this ends immediately,” I whispered to her, but she shook her head as I knew she would. The humiliation of being seen to be impersonating a slave was more than she might bear.

“So, let us see how you might perform for the men, little slut.” Naomi exchanged her five bladed whip for the original slave crop. “Show me obeisance – head down to the flagstones, arms extended. Now!” she barked that final order and struck Yishana hard on her beautiful ass, leaving a red mark. Quickly then did Yishana adopt the position. “You have pretty hair, slave,” said Naomi with a hint of jealousy. “Would you like me to shave it off and leave you bald?”

“No! Please Mistress, no!”

“You will be obedient then?”

“Yes, Mistress, yes!”

“Display position! On your knees! Now!”

Yishana quickly lifted herself back up and displayed herself. There were fresh tears in her eyes. She could not meet my gaze. She knew I was seeing her like this.

“Hands behind your neck. Arch your back! Thrust out those breasts! The men will want to see you!” Naomi whipped Yishana again with the crop, this time on her right thigh, leaving another sharp red mark.

“Please Mistress, please, I am trying…” wept Yishana. She couldn't believe the pain coursing through her body now, and too she was genuinely terrified that the girls might forcibly shave her head as a punishment. How could she ever explain that back on the Larl?

“Crawl forward five paces, ass in the air!” ordered Naomi, and Yishana did so. I noticed her short shift of white cloth had come undone where it was tucked and now it trailed loosely from her hips, threatening to come apart all together. Naomi, seeing this, simply reached down and pulled it free, leaving Yishana naked except for her beads and bangles.

“Stripped slave,” she sneered. “Kiss the whip.” Naomi thrust the whip to Yishana’s face and the Mistress did as she was ordered, fearfully.

“Say I have kissed and licked the whip of Naomi, my Mistress.”

Yishana repeated the words, her body trembling with genuine fear. Surely I had to stop this, but how? I took a couple of steps forward and received a warning snarl from Naomi.

“Do not interfere, Emma, or you will be tied to the iron ring too and receive forty lashes.”

I stepped immediately back. There was no way I was going to do anything that might be punished with forty lashes. Yishana was on her own if she wasn’t going to call in the nuclear option and identify herself.

Yishana was put through a stringent series of positions, none of which she knew very well and so in each case she was whipped with the crop until she learnt it. I couldn’t helplessly watch this, and so I turned my face away. Yishana had been a good Mistress to me, better than I could reasonably have expected, though Simon may have offered a differing opinion on the matter. Yishana had never called me a slut for example, which made her the very first free woman not to do so.

“Emma, you are to watch this,” said Naomi, her voice dripping with warning. Like the other girls I turned my gaze back to the ‘new slave’. I did not wish to be beaten as well.

By the time Naomi was through with her, Yishana was capable of a simple set of fluid slave positions. Her body was also repeatedly marked with red welts that would take several days to fade. Gone was the proud Ubara of the Black Coast. What knelt before us now was seemingly a new Kajira, desperately trying to placate her Mistress.

Naomi used the tip of the crop to lift Yishana’s chin as she knelt in misery on the floor. She had also been taught a slave litany which is useful in the early days of slavery. Girls are made to memorise it and repeat it almost without thinking.

“Display position and repeat the words,” said Naomi.

He is Master, I am slave

He is Owner, I am owned

He commands, I obey

He is to be pleased, I am to please

Why is this?

Because He is Master and I am slave

Yishana spoke the phrase over and over again, getting some of the words mixed up to begin with on account of the fact it was all new to her and also I think because of her fear of the slave crop. But Naomi was patient with her in this as she knew that ever girl new to her collar took time to learn the early lessons of her slavery. Naomi is a reasonable first girl – she does not issue punishments out of some for of sadism.

“Leash position, Mina,” said Naomi. Yishana obeyed, presenting herself on her knees, turning her head to the side and lifting it to display her collar. Naomi nodded and clipped the snap lock of a leash chain to it. She held the other end. “Crawl now to the barred pen over there.” She indicated one near the centre of the annex. Inside was a pile of old sacks that substituted as a bed and a central ring fastened to the lower part of the far wall to which a girl might be secured. “You are going to please men to the best of your ability, aren’t you pretty Mina?”

“Yes Mistress.” She felt a sharp tug on her leash and without any argument, Yishana crawled towards the pen in which she would be so beautifully displayed for the enjoyment of men.

“What did I say about your ass?” Said Naomi as she swiped it hard with her crop. Yishana squealed and quickly raised it as she crawled.

“Better, slut,” said Naomi. She led Yishana inside and secured the free end of her leash chain to the slave ring there. Yishana would not be able to leave the pen before Naomi might allow it.

One by one the rest of us were told to take our positions within the other barred pens. To my dismay I wasn’t housed in the pen beside Yishana, despite my request.

“You seem far too lenient with the little slut,” said Naomi. “Imani will instruct her today.” And so Imani took position in the pen that shared an adjoining barred wall with Yishana's instead of me. I in turn was placed in the next pen along. I lay on the sack cloth that was spread inside the pen and extended my head so that Naomi could attach a chain shackle to my collar. I felt the weight of the added chain as it locked with a sharp click to my collar ring.

“Are you comfortable, Emma?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress.” I lay back on the sack cloth and squirmed a bit to find the best spot. Very soon men would begin to arrive and they would pay money to use us. I glanced to my left where two connecting pens further along Yishana in her guise as the slave, Mina, was lying on her side in trepidation. This is what she wanted of course, but in a more controlled environment. Perhaps she now realised how foolish and reckless she had been as she would be used by whichever men paid her price and used well. Only then would she be freed and permitted to return to the safety of her cabin.

I heard footsteps in the main room belonging to a man I recognised but hadn't expected to see here: Tijani.

“Greetings Naomi,” he said as drank some paga from a jug. “Are you still setting up?”

“Yes Master,” she said as she surveyed the various slaves who were being allocated to pens or the ankle chains lining the u-shaped walls of the main room. “Will you be requiring a girl? We do have to charge you here...”

There was hardly any need for him to pay for our use here when he could have any one of us for free back on the Larl, but perhaps he liked the idea of rutting with a slave in the chain wharf. Whatever, he was here now and I slid myself over to the barred door of my pen to look out at him.

“Master,” I said in a pleasing voice. “If you're looking for the best girl in this pen, you've found her.”

Tijani laughed as she saw and heard me. “Have I now? Perhaps you might point her out to me? Would it be...” he gazed at the contents of the pen next to mine, “pretty little Imani perhaps?”

Imani slid to the front of her pen and put her outstretched arms through the bars, reaching out to the master. “Yes Master, Imani is the best and she begs to serve the master. She is far superior to the blonde barbarian.”

I rolled my eyes as I knelt beside the bars. So Imani thought she could compete with the likes of me, huh? “Remember what I can do with my tongue, Master? Paradise awaits you in here.”

Tijani quickly looked back at me with a grin as he heard that. “It was you that I came to fur, actually, Emma.”

“I'm pleased to hear it, Master. You have excellent taste in slave flesh if you don't mind me saying. I've always admired that about you.” I knew this would make him laugh again and it did. Men like their slaves to be more than just a good fuck.

I think pretty little Imani realised she had no hope and so she slunk quietly back into her cell. But as she did so there was the sound of slave chains slithering along the flagstone floor from the pen to the left of hers. It was Yishana who had heard and recognised Tijani's voice and no doubt terrified that he might see her she had retreated as far back into her pen as she could. Unfortunately for her this served to attract his attention. I watched in horror as he moved now to gaze into her pen.

“You are definitely new. Were you purchased here today? What is your name, girl?” asked Tijani as he looked through the bars at the beautiful auburn haired white girl. White slaves are rare this close to the black coast, and they are in a minority in the flesh pens of Asperiche, despite the interest of the League of Black Slavers who choose to import such girls from further north.

“Mina, Master,” said Yishana in a fearful whisper. Her head was bowed for fear he might see something curiously familiar about her. The iron gates to the various pens were unlocked. Like the others, hers did not actually swing open on hinges but rather slid along recessed grooves against the left side of the cavern wall as you faced it. Yishana’s basic pen was illuminated by a slow burning lamp set on an alcove ridge hewn into the stone.

“Do you know how to please a man?” asked Tijani.

“No, Master, I am new to my collar and have not been trained.” Yishana blushed, knowing this was true. She had never had a need to know how to please a man, rather those few men she had known had good reason to be pleasing to her.

“Display yourself,” said Tijani, for he seemed interested in her.

Miserably now, Yishana slid into a basic display position with her back arched, her hands raised to her hair behind her head, and her breasts thrust out. Her thighs of course were parted well.

“I am Mina,” she swallowed back a sob as she said that. “I am pretty and respond well to the touch of a man.”

“You are cheap, I see,” said Tijani as he gazed at the chalk mark on the strip of blackboard fixed to her cage door. The slave girl Mina could be had indefinitely during the day for a copper tarsk bit. This was a cheap price for use of a girl.

“I am unskilled, Master. I am sorry.”

“But your body is ripe and inviting, and your hair colour is exquisite. Obeisance.”

Quickly Yishana dropped to the floor, pressing her head down and holding her hands level with her head. She thrust her bottom up.

“Beautiful,” said Tijani. “You may be raw and unskilled, but you display well. Now on your back, head to the left, arms by your side, legs open.”

Yishana moved as instructed. I wondered whether this series of display positions before a man, and the fact she was being ordered to adopt them, were these things beginning to affect her? Was she perhaps beginning to grow aroused and wet at the thought of her submission? From the nature of her ragged breathing now, I suspected this might be the case.

“Now open your palms face up towards me.” Tijani entered the confines of the pen. I saw Yishana’s startled look as she heard him drop a piece of small coin into the wooden box. He had chosen the girl that he desired today and it transpired it wasn't going to be me after all.

“What does your collar say?”

“I cannot read it, Master, but I am told it says I am the slave-girl Mina, and that I am the property of the ship called Larl of Thassa.”

“Good. Very good.” Tijani smiled as he knelt down and placed his hand on Yishana’s belly. As he stroked along her skin I heard Yishana moan softly. Oh yes, it seems my Mistress was becoming aroused.

“Extend your hands to the furthest reach of your leash chain and do not let go,” said Tijani. By telling her to do this he would keep her hands occupied and out of the way as well as if she might be manacled. There was a sudden squeal from Yishana that could only mean Tijani had suddenly touched her intimately.

“I see you are already oiled for use, girl.”

Yishana whimpered, knowing this was true, and knowing that Tijani also now knew it.

“Say, I am ready for your use, Master.”

With another sob Yishana repeated the words.

“I understand you are new to your collar, new to your slavery, but I have spent a copper tarsk bit for your use. Understand, Mina, that you may have pretty auburn hair, but if you do not fully please me to the best of your ability, if you do not search deep inside the recesses of your genetically submissive sex, if you do not provide me with my money’s worth today, I will whip you until you can barely crawl back to the Larl. Do you understand?”

Yishana nodded frantically as she lay there. “I will please you, Master.”

“Then let us begin.” Tijani stripped away his tunic and Yishana no doubt saw how aroused he was already, for Tijani is not exactly small in size where it counts.

Believe me I've had plenty of opportunities to know that!

He lay down next to Yishana, but made no move to touch her, which no doubt came as a surprise to the bewildered Mistress. Instead he said, “you may release the chain. Kneel now, cross your wrists behind the small of your back as if bound and keep them there. And now, to begin with, you will make me come using just your mouth. Do not disappoint me, girl, for the whip is very close to hand.”

Over the course of the next couple of hours Tijani helped Yishana to understand the various ways in which a slave-girl can give exquisite pleasure to a man. He schooled her patiently in various techniques and then enjoyed the fruits of that tuition. No doubt Yishana learned many things that afternoon.

When Naomi chalked my own details onto the small slate blackboard that was fixed to the bars of my pen, I was pleased to see I was labelled the star attraction of sorts. My price was set high – three copper tarsks for my use! I glowed with pride and smiled as Naomi told me.

Gorean currency varies from city to city though these days tends to mimic the standard of Ar, where there are ten to twelve tarsk bits to a copper tarsk, one hundred copper tarsks to a silver tarsk and ten silver tarsks to a gold tarsk.

“My Mistress informs me you are a trained pleasure slave from the training schools in eastern Patashqar,” she said. “Do not make me regret what I have chalked upon your slate.”

“I will not disappoint, Mistress. I am very skilled.” Three copper tarsks! I hoped word of this would circulate amongst the Askaris. Then they would know what they had been missing. This was a high price for the wharves of Asperiche. Common sailors would probably not pay that price. A well to do merchant would of course. As might a warrior who is paid well. I touched the chain that now locked me by my collar ring to the far wall. None of the other girls were priced higher than a single copper tarsk, and that was an exceptional price only set for Imani who Naomi seemed to think was of particular interest to men. She was a sleek little slut, I could see that much, but even so I felt she was probably overpriced. Men might feel disappointed after having her at that price. Of the other girls, they ranged in price from four tarsk bits to seven tarsk bits. My price alone attracted attention. I knelt in the position of a trained pleasure slave each and every time a man ventured close to my pen wondering what could possibly cost so much, and I would move seductively in a variety of positions, offering him a glimpse of what he might have if he could meet my price. Three men did and they were well satisfied by the time they left. I could see Naomi was pleased with their cries of pleasure as I set to work with the full range of my skills.

“You have done well, Emma. I will tell your Mistress,” she said after the third man had left with a smile on his face and a healthy spring in his step. My coin box no doubt jingled with coins for the second man had actually left a tip.

From the cage pen next door I could hear Yishana crying out in bliss. She was being taken again by Tijani and I believe she was experiencing her third slave orgasm. I smiled, for it is what she had wanted, but now that she had experienced such deep pleasures, would she ever truly be the same again? And what of the terrible degrading treatment she had suffered at the hands of Naomi and the other slaves? That had not been part of the plan. Her body was criss crossed with red marks from the slave crop and the five stranded Gorean whip. She would have those marks on her body as a reminder of today for several days to come. I smiled again, for Yishana was really quite noisy now. She had no idea what she was saying, for if she had been aware then surely she would not be crying out ‘Master’ quite so often.

I think Yishana was beginning to understand what it was to be a woman in the proper sense of the word. I was pleased for her, even though it might not bode well for her future. Once you partake of forbidden fruit, the taste for it remains with you.

Naomi chose to close down before it got dark. Tijani was the last man to leave, and only because the three Askaris who were to be our escort turned up while he was still there.

“You’ve had a lot of use for half a tarsk bit Master,” laughed Naomi as she regarded Yishana lying there amongst dry straw and disarrayed sack cloth. Yishana’s body was flushed with orgasm and her hair was an absolute mess, but she looked vibrant and alive and sated. Tijani spanked her ass for fun and grinned as she curled at his feet , kissing and licking him as she had been taught to do early on in her use.

“She learns quickly and is frankly under priced,” he said.

“Oh,” said Naomi with interest. “I will bear that in mind for next time.”

Except there won’t be a next time, I thought to myself. But Naomi didn’t know that. Naomi didn’t know that pretty little Mina would just disappear soon after we returned to the Larl, never to be seen again. Perhaps she might have been sold somewhere at her Mistress’s pleasure. No one would ever know. She would just be gone and Yishana would be back in her silken gowns and slightly shorter hair braid.

“Slut,” said Tijani with affection to Yishana.

“Yes, Master,” she said as she crawled to his feet again. I thought she was a splendid actress to be this convincing now that the use of her was over. One might almost think she had been genuinely mastered by the man. But of course she was Yishana. She was no ordinary woman.

Tijani left and Naomi called us all out to the front of our pens where she removed the collar chains from our throats and collected the proceeds from the coin boxes. We were ordered to return our pens to the state they were in earlier in the day and I watched as the proud Ubara of the Black Coast was made to gather up the soiled straw, clean the flagstone floors on her hands and knees with a scrubbing brush and a pale of water, and then lay down fresh straw and sacking. Naomi found a few faults with her work, but did not whip her. She was however told to do the work all over again. The second time it was done to Naomi’s satisfaction.

Then we were assembled in a line and placed in ankle coffle. Naomi was at the head of the line of course, but I was pleased to be second in line. Yishana was not last. Imani apparently had been overpriced after all and there had been complaints. She had been whipped with the crop and placed last in our line. Yishana smiled at that and stood proudly, knowing she had done better than Imani who after all was a real slave.

The Askaris marched us in a line to the wharf where the Larl was docked. It was a fifteen minute walk and we attracted a fair amount of attention on the way for we were a beautiful coffle I think. Yishana of course was pleased to see the tall masts of the Larl again for she knew it meant her ordeal was almost at an end. Naomi had clear instructions to present her to Yishana’s cabin as the Mistress wished to ‘speak with the new girl’. Once inside Yishana would be able to remove the collar, wash the dye from her hair and dress in silken gowns that would cover the whip marks. I thought she would sleep well tonight and retire early for she looked tired by the day's activities.

We were marched up the gang plank just as the sun was setting, and the relief on Yishana’s face as the ankle fetters were removed one by one was palpable. In just five minutes she would be safe in her cabin and she could put the day behind her.

Naomi began to direct the girls to various duties. One or two would prepare the food for tonight, while the others were ordered to scrub the decks. This should have been done earlier today, but there hadn’t been time before we had been marched to the slave wharf.

“Mistress, I need to escort the slave, Mina, to the Mistress's cabin as per her instructions. The Mistress wishes to speak to her.”

“The Mistress isn’t back yet,” said Naomi as she regarded Yishana in her simple slave cloth and collar. “Until she returns, the new girl can at least be useful on deck.”

“Mistress?” I looked up alarmed. “I think the instructions were clear that Mina should be taken to the cabin immediately on return.”

“I was simply told she should be taken there to see the Mistress. The Mistress isn't yet returned from the city, and therefore there is no need to take Mina to the cabin yet.”

Oh fuck. I glanced back at Yishana. Now that she was back on board the Larl with her feet resting on its varnished boards she looked relieved and confident again. Of course she did, for in just a few minutes she knew she would be escorted back to her cabin.

“I don’t mean to question your wishes, Mistress, but I really think the instructions…”

“Then don’t.” snapped Naomi. “Don’t question me, Emma. I know what the Mistress meant. And she would not want a new girl to idle the hours away in her cabin. Give her a pail of water, a scrubbing brush and put her to work over there.” She indicated an area of the deck. “I want the wood to gleam when the Mistress returns. And tonight, see that Mina is included in the chalk circle.”

“The chalk circle? But there has not been a battle…”

“It is Tijani’s idea. The men are more likely to stay on board and not get lost in the city if there is entertainment on board ship tonight. There will be a chalk circle tonight. See that the white slut is included as one of the prize girls. Tonight we will see what she learned when she takes her turn to pleasure the Masters.”

Once again, oh fuck…