Ubara of Gor Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen: The Free Companions

“Don’t touch your brand,” I said as I saw Mina doing that thing slave girls always do in the first couple of days of their slavery – examining with dismay the brand that has been freshly seared into their flesh. Mina jumped slightly for she hadn’t heard me sneak up on her behind the rocks. She had thought she had a moment of privacy, but really there was nowhere to run to of course for the rocks were part of the towering cliffs that had trapped us on the beach during the Cosian attack. There was no way to climb the cliff at this point along the headland and swimming in the sea would get her nowhere for the cliffs continued along the shoreline for several pasangs. But even so, I didn’t want Mina to sneak off on her own. She might try and do something stupid.

“You were told not to touch your brand,” I reminded her. “You have to get used to obeying instructions now.”

Mina gazed at me, but her hand hovered over her left thigh. “You’re not in charge of me, Emma,” she said with a little of her old self on display.

“Maybe not.” I conceded that point. “But if you touch your brand, I’ll tell Chloe.”

Mina twitched and quickly moved her fingers away from the brand. “Don’t do that.”

I smiled. ‘I’ll tell Chloe’ was quite the intimidating threat now that Mina had endured multiple strokes of the whip administered by my friend. It was a salutary lesson in the discipline a first girl could inflict. I had no doubt that in a fight Mina could easily defeat Chloe, but that wasn’t the point. As first girl her authority was backed up by the men on this beach. If Chloe felt she needed to be punished, Mina would be helpless to prevent it taking place.

“That’s better,” I said as I walked towards Mina. “Lift your hands up and place them with fingers interlaced behind your neck.” I watched Mina reluctantly do so. The position lifted her breasts nicely. “Do you know why you were told not to touch your brand?” I glanced at it. It was fresh and still raw but it would heal quickly with the salves that had been applied. As I have said before, Gorean medicine is generally in advance of our own, and the salves for brands heal the burnt flesh at an accelerated rate.

Mina nodded silently in some passive aggressive way.

“Then tell me.”

“If I touch my brand when it is still fresh I may spoil it,” she said with a look of defiance. I nodded and walked around her as she stood there with her hands behind her neck.

“Feet slightly more apart,” I said and waited as she did so. She was in a common display position now and it was a useful discipline to keep her hands away from her brand. A week ago I could never have conceived of the possibility of the Ubara of the Black Coast standing before me in a common display position. How times change.

“The brand will heal and when it does it will be an attractive one. But only if you don’t touch it with your nails.” I stopped behind Mina where she couldn’t see me. This too is a useful discipline technique as it makes a girl rather more nervous if she cannot see the person speaking to her.

“Why am I standing like this?” she asked.

“Because I told you to,” I said with a smile. “If you want to be troublesome I can speak to Chloe and she can decide which of us is in the right?”

“No..” whispered Mina quietly.

“It’s good to be scared of the first girl,” I said. “It’s natural. But Chloe will be a good first girl to you. She will be fair. She won’t be cruel to you. But you have to understand that she will have no choice but to punish you if you disobey or confront her in some fashion. That’s the way this works.” I regarded the whip marks that criss crossed Mina’s back and rump. There were thirty red marks in all. Mina would be marked like that for several days, and every man on the breach would know she had been disobedient in some way.

“What are you doing back here behind the rocks?”

“I wanted some privacy,” said Mina. “I can feel men staring at me all the time.”

“You’re a slave, Mina, you don’t get to have any privacy any more.”

“I feel abandoned,” she said. “I feel so lost without the Goddess inside of me. Without her I am not Yishana…”

“I know.” I hadn’t told her the truth yet. I hadn’t told her that she had never actually invoked the spirit of her Goddess and that it had all been a trick with potions and drugs administered by Kerim Shah over the years. Enough of her life had been exposed as false that I thought it would be cruel to strip the rest away as well. Let her believe she was once blessed by a tribal Goddess if it meant she had some part of her old life to cling on to.

“You will never feel the spirit of the Goddess again, Mina. You’re a slave – you’re no longer a suitable host body.” It had to be said in some fashion. I couldn’t have her cling on to the hope that she might return to her old life. That would be cruel. She had to accept her new reality as it was. “And I don’t want you to sneak off again. You’re to ask me if you need to go somewhere. Me or Chloe. The early days of slavery are always hard for a girl. I don’t want you to do something stupid”

“Please don’t tell Chloe I came here,” said Mina.

I smiled again. She had just begged with the word please. The harsh whipping had taught her a lesson it seemed. That was good, both for her and us. “Just this once. But only if you hurry back to the beach now like a good little kajira.” I slapped Mina’s bottom and watched her jump, startled, and then run along the sand, round the rocks and back to the beach where the men were preparing for the Free Companionship ceremony tonight.

Mina had been defiant to begin with of course, but that was to be expected. Last night after being branded and enslaved, Yishana had made the mistake of refusing an order from Chloe.

Chloe knew how to deal with it of course.

“Make me.” Mina had stared Chloe in the face and sneered at the girl with her fists clenched. Chloe had just ordered her to lie on her belly on the fallen tree trunk that lay at the base of the cliffs. It was to serve as a punishment spot for the coffle of slaves during our time on the beach should any punishments be required. To this end one of the men had hammered a rivet through the central chain link of a set of slave bracelets at one end of the trunk, and a similar rivet through the chain links of a set of ankle chains at the other end of the trunk.

“Chloe is first girl, Mina,” I said quickly in an attempt to diffuse the situation before it grew volatile, for Mina had just openly defied Chloe in front of several of the other slaves, and that could not stand. There was no way that Chloe could allow such defiance to go unpunished if she wanted to maintain her authority. “Her word is the law in this coffle.”

“For you maybe,” she sneered, “slave-girl.” You must remember that Mina was early in her new found slavery. She had been branded by a man, and she now wore a steel collar, but only hours before she had stood on the sand of this beach as the free woman, the Ubara of the Black Coast. She obviously viewed herself still as better and different from the rest of us.

Crucially, she wasn't afraid of any of us. That had to change for her own good if nothing else.

Chloe drew the crop from her belt and let it unravel to the ground. “You are new to your collar, Mina, so I will give you the chance to beg forgiveness for that outburst,” said Chloe. “You are to receive ten strokes of the lash and so you will hurry to the punishment trunk where you will lie on your belly with your hands and feet readied for shackling.”

Yishana stepped forward and went face to face with Chloe. “Do not delude yourself, slave-girl. You would not win in a fight with me. I would take that lash from you and apply it to your own soft body.”

“Your punishment is now twenty lashes,” said Chloe, unflinching. “Go to the trunk or it will be the worse for you.”

“As I said, try and make me… slave-girl.” Yishana turned her back on Chloe, knowing my friend wouldn't dare anything, and she simply walked away.

Three minutes later Mina was screaming as a man dragged her to the tree trunk. When she resisted, he punched her in the stomach and then dragged her the rest of the way by her hair. He threw her onto her belly on the rough bark and fastened her wrists first in cold steel. Her ankles swiftly followed. I watched, sighing, as I saw Mina struggle futilely in her bonds.

“The punishment is now thirty lashes of the whip, Mina,” said Chloe as she stood close by. The man had overpowered Mina easily enough. I think she had been surprised how easily a man could render her helpless when the 'fighting spirit of the Goddess' didn't reside inside her.

“Let me go! Let me go!” screamed Mina as she pulled at her wrist restraints. She looked up in dismay as she saw Chloe unravel the whip once again. “Don’t you dare!” She began to understand now that she was helpless, unable to protect herself from the lash. I think in the past she had seen it applied to women and she had seen the effect it had on them. She was in her own mind at least Yishana, and so she possibly thought she could deal with the pain, but then again she also knew that the Goddess had abandoned her and left her with the soft weakness of an ordinary woman.

“Thirty lashes,” said Chloe again. “I warned you.”

Chloe allowed Mina to struggle for a few minutes. Psychologically this is useful because the girl quickly discovers that she cannot free herself. No matter how hard she struggles she remains chained and nothing she does will change that. And this was the case with Mina. She struggled furiously, pulling at her wrist restraints, exerting all her strength as she lay along the length of the tree trunk, writhing furiously, but in doing so accomplishing nothing except wearing herself out. After a few minutes of intense resistance she began to tire and slowly but surely her body began to relax. She was chained and she would remain chained until Chloe decided otherwise. Her body lay supine now, but I could detect a slight tell tale tremor in her skin. It is at this point that the girl begins to understand quite how helpless she now is. She begins to understand that she cannot defend herself and that she is totally at the mercy of her captor. Women, and perhaps men too, enter a very different emotional state at that point as fear and uncertainty mix with the feelings of helplessness and the body enters a more placatory state where survival now depends on not antagonising the captor. I could see this in Mina now. She lay there feeling a heady mix of soporific chemicals released by her body into her brain to calm her down and make her more compliant for her own survival. She was no longer shouting, struggling or making threats.

“Did you think you could pull your wrists from the slave bracelets?” asked Chloe as she stood behind Mina’s prone body. Mina would not be able to look at Chloe unless she twisted her head back and to the side – a position that would be uncomfortable to hold in place for too long.

“No,” she said. Her hands shook slightly in the bracelets. They were fastened snugly about her.

“But still you tried.” Chloe now let the lash slide across Mina’s raised bottom, flanks and thighs, and as she did so, Mina reared up slightly from the rough bark of the tree trunk in surprise.

“You can’t whip me!” she said. “I am Yishana!”

“That is not your name,” said Chloe. “You are Mina now.”

“You cannot treat me like this!” said Mina urgently as she felt the length of the lash slide now across her lower back. She could feel it but not quite see it.

“Obviously I can,” said Chloe.

Now Mina struggled against her chains again. It really was pointless. This time though she gave up after maybe thirty seconds. Now her breathing was heavy and laboured. The muscles in her lower back, legs and arms were tense and stiff. She knew what was to come.

“Right now a couple of things are running through your pretty head, Mina,” said Chloe. “You’re preparing yourself for the pain to come which you foolishly think you will be able to withstand. You won’t. You don’t yet really understand what it is going to feel like. It will come as a shock to you and I promise you by the end of today you will fear the whip I carry in my hand. There’s no need to take my word for it though. You will know soon enough.”

Mina twisted her back and tried to turn her head far enough to look at Chloe, but Chloe took hold of her hair and simply pulled her head forward again.

“Lie still and look straight ahead,” said Chloe, “or I’ll add to your punishment.”

“Whip me and you will regret it,” said Mina. She probably meant it, but she did not yet understand how circumstances had changed for her.

I watched as Mina held her body still, how she prepared herself for the first bite of the lash. In her mind she was still Yishana, Ubara of the Black Coast and I knew she was now steeling herself not to cry out in front of the men and her former coffle of slave-girls. Her pride would not permit her to show pain.

She was in for a rude awakening of course.

Chloe brought the lash down for its first stroke. Mina’s body reacted to it in shock as I knew it would, but Mina stifled a scream. Her fingers clenched, her body stiffened and then went slack, her teeth ground together, her eyes squinted shut and her back glistened with sudden sweat in reaction to the blow. I knew what she would be thinking now – the lash had burt far more than she had imagined it might. Her mind would be racing with the realisation that although she had not screamed, there were many more blows to come. Chloe paused for a moment to let the first stroke sink in and then she lay down two more. Mina stiffened in pain held in her chains to each blow. There was a wild, livid look in her eyes and I saw how her fingers clutched at the chain links. A fourth blow followed and Mina almost made a noise. Almost. There was snot running from her nose. There were red marks now on her wrists where she had pulled without thinking at the chain bracelets in her agony. And then with the fifth blow came the first sound from the girl – a low, pent up choking moan as she was unable to completely silence herself. The dam was cracked and beginning to leak.

The fifth application of the lash is always a good place for a first girl to pause for a moment and let the cumulative pain of the former strokes sink in. Chloe did so. Again she slithered the lash over Mina's skin and saw how it twitched to the caress of the leather.

“Do you want to say something, Mina?” asked Chloe.

Mina was gulping in big mouthfuls of air now as her body shook. The whip marks would be a fierce burning sensation on her back that would grow progressively worse.

“That was five, Mina. There are twenty five more to come. Twenty five, Mina. A slave wouldn’t be able to take twenty five, but I suppose you’re not a slave and you will take it in your stride?”

“Please… mercy…” Mina’s voice sounded cracked and hoarse.

And then Mina screamed. She screamed because Chloe quickly placed two more strokes across her raised ass and two more strokes across her soft thighs. There had been no warning. The blows came quickly and burned like a brand might.

“You screamed, Mina. You screamed like a slave-girl screams,” remarked Chloe as she paused after the ninth stroke. “And I thought you were supposed to be a proud, strong free woman, so much better than the other girls. What are you going to sound like when we’re well into the twenties, hmm?”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Mistress,” said Mina suddenly. “Please, no more.”

She had called Chloe, Mistress. The assembled slave-girls smirked and laughed at that. Several of them jeered and called out to Mina, telling her she was a slave like them. I think they were happy to see Mina's proud demeanour collapsing under the bite of the lash.

“Well, that’s a start, I suppose,” said Chloe. “Calling me Mistress is good. I’ll take two strokes of the lash away from your total for that. Two more if you tell me correctly who you are?”

“I’m a slave-girl called Mina,” sobbed Mina. “Please, no more…”

“I’m afraid we still have seventeen strokes left, Mina, even with the four I’ve taken away.” Chloe applied the lash six more times – twice across her ass, twice across her thighs and twice across her back. Mina’s screams grew louder still with each additional stroke. By the last stroke of the set tears were running like rain down her cheeks.

Mina was enduring the worst now as her body was wracked with pain from the beating so far. Each additional stroke was like salt being rubbed into an open wound. Now Chloe gave her words to say, or rather scream after each stroke or else the stroke would not count towards her total punishment.

“La kajira, Mistress! I will learn to be pleasing!” Yishana cried after each of the next five strokes. Her resistance it seemed was gone, and all she could care about was getting through the punishment without further strokes being added to it. Once again Chloe paused, this time after the twentieth stroke. There were still six more to go.

Chloe made Mina kiss and lick the strands of the whip now. Whatever Mina thought of this, she didn’t dare refuse.

“Will you ever refuse a command from me again, girl?” asked Chloe.

“Never, Mistress, never!” sobbed Mina.

“You have a brand and a steel collar, Mina. What are you?”

“A slave girl, Mistress. Nothing more.”

Chloe was pleased with this. I could tell she wanted the punishment to end as soon as possible. She did not want to add further discipline to what Mina already had to endure. I think she decided to be merciful then and bring the remainder of the punishment forward and get it over with quickly. Mina screamed and writhed with each of the next six blows. Her body was slick with sweat and her hair was hanging loosely in front of her face as she gasped for air, her face flushed from the ordeal. Her back, ass and thighs were cross crossed with red marks that would take days to fade.

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“Emma, come here please.” I heard Chloe’s voice as I returned to the beach where she was laying out what looked like some grain sacks. I walked towards my friend and when she nodded towards the sand I knelt down before her. It is a sign of respect to a first girl to have other girls kneel while she stands.

“Mistress,” I said, for we were in public and it was the polite and respectful form of address. In private she would just be Chloe.

“Three sacks.” She pointed at the grain sacks that still looked fresh with bits of grain that had stuck between the weave and sighed. “We’re to fashion garments for tonight out of them. Cassandra wants us clothed modestly for the ceremony and there’s nothing else I’m afraid that we can use to make suitable garments from.”

“We’re wearing sacks?” I said in disbelief.

“I’m afraid so. I want you and Mina to wash the sacks out so we won’t have coarse grain granules rubbing on our skin. Then find some scissors and cut holes for our heads and arms.”

“What are we going to use for belts? Binding fibre?”

“No belts. Cassandra wants us to look us unappealing as possible I think. The sacks will be worn loose.”

I examined one of the sacks and held it to my body. It would cover my body to just slightly below my knees.It would probably look ridiculous without a belt of some kind.

“Okay,” I sighed. “Leave it to me.”

“Did Mina sneak away behind those rocks?” asked Chloe.

“Um…” I gazed up at her, not really wanting to get Mina into trouble.

“I just want to know, Emma. I’m not planning on punishing her for it.”

I nodded. “Yes Mistress. But she won’t do it again. I spoke to her.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said I’d tell you if she did it again.” I grinned. “She has the fear of Chloe now. Can you believe it?”

“I’m a scary first girl now,” said Chloe as she looked quite pleased with herself. “A whipping does that I suppose. But still… the fearsome Ubara of the Black Coast jumps when I say boo. Who would have thought it.”

“She’s not the same woman without all those drugs,” I said. “And she’s confused, scared, she feels abandoned by her Goddess. She’s standing on very shaky emotional ground right now. All her past certainties have been pulled away from her. It’s going to be hard to adapt.”

“What did she say when you said you’d tell me?”

“She begged me not to.” I laughed softly. “She doesn’t want to be whipped again.”

“Good. Because I don’t really want to have to whip her. It’s much better for both of us if she thinks I will. That way I won’t have to again.” Chloe sighed. “It feels so strange being in charge of you, Emma. I feel like I should still be kneeling in front of you.”

“You’ll be a good first girl, Mistress. I’ll prefer just looking after my children I think. Brinn was right about that. I don’t resent your position at all.”

“Do you think Mina will try and escape?”

“I think so, at some point. It probably won’t be planned, she’ll just panic at some point and run blindly. We have to make sure she doesn’t do so. The men would punish her horribly.”

“I’d punish her pretty damn horribly too,” said Chloe. “I’m going to keep her chained at night I think. There’s nowhere to run to on this beach, but even so, she might have some insane idea about swimming away.”

Chloe had every right to be apprehensive about a possible attempt at running away by Mina, for as first girl, Chloe would be held responsible for any escape attempt. The first girl is supposed to maintain discipline and watch out for things like that. On the estate, Chloe would probably be stripped of her position for failing to anticipate an escape and deal with it before the event, but as there were realistically few replacements for her out here on the coast of the jungle kingdoms, she would probably be whipped instead. And I’m talking about being whipped by a man. Mina’s punishment would be more severe, but Chloe would share some of her pain. No wonder then that Chloe had no intention of allowing an opportunity to arise.

“Close chains at night,” said Chloe.

“That’s not really down to us is it? I mean, she’ll be in the furs with Tijani. I think he has claimed her.”

“I’ll speak to him, Emma. He needs to know that at the moment Mina is a flight risk. If he decides to be lax in chaining her after my warnings, then at least I won’t be at fault.”

“But Mina doesn’t understand what will happen to her if she runs. She has no idea how bad it could be. I don’t want her to suffer. “

“I’ll speak to Mina too and make I clear I know what she’s thinking,” said Chloe.

The transition from free woman to slave is harder still if as a free woman you had authority, wealth and prestige. I knew it was going to be a humbling first few weeks for Mina, more so than it had ever been for me.

That first afternoon on the beach after the day of the battle with the Cosians, Chloe and I heard screaming coming from a number of the slaves close to the cliffs where they were supposed to be working on their chores. We ran towards the commotion, hoping to get there before men did, and what we saw was a slave on the sand on her back, her hands clutching a bloodied or broken nose, and the sight of Mina lashing out at Naomi with several other girls screaming at her. Naomi was getting the worst of it, with Mina kicking her to the sand and clawing at her with her nails until suddenly three of the other girls rushed Mina and took hold of her by the hair and arms. She was like a wild cat, hissing and shrieking, and her left foot caught one of the girls in her stomach before they could get a good hold of her. That girl, Keena, I think, was thrown backwards.

“Kneel! All of you!” screamed Chloe as she cracked her whip against a low rock. Every girl stopped fighting at once, even Mina, and with angry looks at one another, they disentangled themselves and dropped down onto their knees.

“Line up! Now!” Chloe cracked her whip again and quickly the girls all lined up together. Mina was the third girl on the left. A number of men had gathered to see what the commotion was, but Chloe turned to address them, saying, “I’m sorry Masters, I will deal with this.”

She was first girl and so they left her to it, with the unspoken understanding that if she failed to maintain discipline, she’d be in trouble.

“I want to know what’s going on,” said Chloe as she paced in front of the girls. The only slave remaining on her feet was me. I folded my arms and gazed down at them all. While I hadn’t officially been appointed as a second, everyone here knew Chloe and I were close.

“Mina attacked me,” said Naomi. She was shaken by the fight and there were livid scratch marks on her stomach, breasts and lower arms. She was also heavily bruised and it looked like one of her eyes would swell up.

“Mina?” said Chloe in a menacing tone.

“They were taunting and teasing me,” said Mina. “And they pulled my hair.”

“Teasing you how?” said Chloe.

“They called me names like ‘pretty slave’ and and they sang ‘Mina wants a Master’ as I walked past them.”

I sighed and half closed my eyes. This wasn’t going to be good.

“And you started a fight over that?” said Chloe. She looked angry. “Would you perhaps like ten lashes of the whip, Mina?”

“What? No!” Mina looked startled. “No, please, Mistress, no…”

“Because that is the penalty for starting a fight. And twice that for a second infraction. Stand up, Mina.”

“Please Mistress…” the once mighty Ubara of the Black Coast looked aghast as she was made to stand up. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Chloe might punish her for fighting. But it had to be done. Chloe would otherwise be punished for not being able to maintain discipline in our coffle.

“Your back is still marked red from your previous beating, Mina. Another whipping will be incredibly painful, laying on to an already marked back.”

“Please Mistress, please…” the once proud Ubara of the Black Coast began to cry.

“I’m going to ask you two questions, Mina. If you answer those questions correctly, then I will not whip you. Are you a pretty slave?”

“Yes…” she whispered, her head down.

“Does Mina want a master?”

Mina swallowed hard and trembled. She knew what the expected answer was in order to save herself from a beating, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Very well, walk to the tree trunk that lies on the sand and lie down on your stomach to receive the whip,” said Chloe who had no time to be patient, for men were still watching.

“Mina wants a Master! “She sobbed.

“Does she really?” said Chloe. “So you weren't teased then, were you, for both statements are true. Crawl to Naomi and tell her.”

Mina shook with humiliation as she crawled across the sand to Naomi and bowed her head before the former first girl of the Larl. “Mina is a pretty slave,” she sobbed. “And Mina wants a Master.”

“Slave,” sneered Naomi.

“Now listen very carefully, Mina,” said Chloe. “You are not to fight with any of the girls ever again. If you do, I will hold you to blame no matter the provocation or excuses. And you will receive twenty lashes, do you understand?”

Mina nodded but she looked frightened for she knew Chloe was literally telling her she could not defend herself no matter what the provocation from the other girls. Many of them smiled, knowing they would be able to tease and taunt Mina without any come back. The next few days would be horrible for her because slaves delight in making life difficult for a former free woman who has fallen to the collar. “I suggest if you wish to escape the worst, you approach the other girls later today and beg them for mercy. They may then go easy on you if they know you acknowledge your low position within this coffle. It is up to you.”

“You will obey us from now on, Mina,” said Naomi as she gazed down at her former proud Mistress with a smirk on her face that Chloe didn't discourage.

“I will,” sobbed Mina. She pressed her forehead to the sand. The girls in the coffle all looked very pleased to have their former Mistress kneeling before them.

You may think what Chloe did was cruel, but it serves a purpose. The bullying and teasing of a former Mistress only lasts so long. After a couple of weeks the distraught new slave is usually accepted by her peers provided she has been humble and pleasing. It is a way slave-girls have of assimilating newcomers to their ranks, by breaking down their former identities as haughty free women. I have seen it time and time again, and the humiliating and suffering is generally brief and preferable to a long drawn out period where the new slave desperately struggles against what she has become. It often saves her many beatings from men too, as the new slave is taught how to behave by her sisters. Mina would not have an easy time of it if she continued to think of herself as the former Ubara of the Black Coast. She would face horrible punishments and possibly death if she was not able to learn to be pleasing. Better some humiliation and embarrassment now at the hands of Naomi and the other girls than a worse fate further down the line.

But yes, this had to be a nightmare for her now. She had been barred from using her superior fighting skills to defend herself, which left her at the mercy of Naomi and the others. She would have to put up with all of the taunts, the insults, the commands, and the other things that often had to be endured in the early days. She would be pinched, poked with sticks, her hair would be pulled. The girls would laugh at her relative clumsiness. I could of course intervene at any point and spare her this, but it is a rite of passage for women reduced to the collar, and it helps them adapt to a new submissive state. Cruel to be kind.

Yishana was gone. Mina wasn’t Yishana and she could not pretend to be. She was a slave now. She would have to learn many things if she was to survive.

I saw two of the slave girls slap Mina with sticks once Chloe had gone. Mina struggled with herself not to retaliate and when the poking became too much she fled in tears along the sand. The two girls laughed, seeing their former Mistress reduced like this.

“See the slave-girl run!” said Marla as the others laughed.

“That’s enough,” I said to them. They looked at me, unsure exactly what power I held in this coffle. “She understands now where she is in our ranks.”

“Chloe will not interfere,” said the first of the girls. “We may do as we please.”

“Within limits,” I said. “Don’t push your luck too far.”

“Or what?” said Marla as she strode up to practically go nose to nose with me.

“Or you may find Chloe will turn a blind eye to what I do to you,” I said with a smile. “Consider carefully which of us she's likely to back in a dispute?”

You would be forgiven for thinking that being at the tender mercy of your former slaves is perhaps the worst thing that can happen to a former free woman? Well, actually it isn’t. There is one thing that is often worse as I discovered later that day.

I knew the moment I saw the way Mina was reluctant to speak to me, but also needing to speak to me, that the time had come. We had been on the beach for three nights which is to say, Mina had spent three nights with Tijani, her new Master, for Brinn had gifted her to him. There is a rule of three when it comes to a new Master. It’s something we slaves know. The first night in a collar is just sex. The man will take you and enjoy you with little regard to your experience. It was like that the first night Brinn had me on a carpet rug in the Tahari. As it happens I was quite skilled by then because of my time In Banu Hashim, so maybe that’s not actually a good example, but suppose you’re a virgin free woman who has been stripped and enslaved, and this is your first night. You’ll be used and perhaps the experience may be something of a surprise to you, or maybe not. But it’s just sex. Come the second night, the man has had you in his collar during the day, and the second night is less impulsive, less spontaneous. He has had the day to consider your body, and to anticipate the evening ahead. He will perhaps take his time with you on the second night, savouring you all the more. But in doing so he will begin to understand your limitations. You were a free woman only a couple of days ago and you know next to nothing about sex. He will still enjoy you, but he will begin to see your limitations, especially if he has had a lot of experience with trained slaves in the past. And then comes the third night, and he begins to grow irritated by how little you know. At some point during the third night he will tell his girl that she is to learn how to please him, and learn well.

“What is it, Mina?” I asked as I scrubbed one of the pots that had been placed in a pile where I knelt.

“I…” Mina glanced around, afraid that one or more of the other girls might hear what she was about to say to me. “I have something I have to ask you, Emma…”

“Really?” I had a good idea by now what that something was going to be. Tijani after all had fucked her three nights in a row. He would by now understand her limitations as a former free woman. By now he would want more from her.

Mina swallowed hard and tried to form the words. “Tijani is…”

“Call him what he is,” I snapped quickly.

“My Master…” Mina corrected herself, “My Master is displeased with me…”

She lowered her eyes, too ashamed to look me in the face now.

“What have you done?” I said.

“It’s not what I have done, but… what I cannot do…” Mina looked so forlorn.

“I see. Are you going to be specific?”

“Please, Emma, this is so hard for me…”

“Tijani finds you unskilled in the furs. He is not impressed with what little you know. He wants you to better yourself. He told you to beg one of the other girls to teach you things. Is that about it?” I decided not to prolong the humiliation for her. Mina quickly nodded and wiped away a tear.

“Okay, kneel here.” I patted the sand to my right. “I'm going to teach you a few basic sexual techniques that will help you please your Master tonight.”

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

The free companionship ceremony between Simon and the Lady Cassandra took place that evening on the beach within a circle of burning torches witnessed by Brinn and the warriors from his ship. I like to think the queen bitch wanted to get her claws into Simon as quickly as possible before he realised what a stuck up and nasty piece of work she was and changed his mind.

We knelt just outside the ring of burning torches dressed in our shapeless ugly sacks as Cassandra was led forward into the ring of fire by Brinn, her brother. Back home in the Sardar the ceremony would no doubt have been a grand and expensive affair involving several days and hundreds of hand picked guests, not to mention fabulous gowns, veils and robes, but here on the beach in the shadow of the damaged ship, we were making do as best we could while repairs were being finalised.

The more needle competent girls in the coffle had worked on Cassandra’s gowns and stitched the frayed and torn portions together to conceal the wear and tear as best we could. I wasn’t one of them of course for I’ve never really been proficient with a needle and thread. I suppose she looked respectable enough as she was led by the hand towards a waiting Simon. Tijani was Simon’s best man, if there is such a thing as that on Gor. Anyway, he stood close by, beaming in appreciation as the companion-to-be was led forward. Cassandra knows how to walk well, I’ll give her that. Even in the frayed and hastily patched gowns she seemed to have the bearing, poise and dignity of a Ubara. Brinn brought her to a halt maybe two feet from Simon, and if Brinn was thinking any ill thoughts of Simon at that point, he didn’t allow them to show on his face for Cassandra's sake.

It is the custom that a woman should wear a multitude of modest veils at the ceremony and Cassandra had no doubt made use of various lengths of cloth to ensure she had the correct number in place. During the ceremony these are peeled away one by one by the suitor, much to the encouragement of the men attending. Everyone pretends they have no idea what the woman looks like, so that they are then pleasantly surprised at how radiant and beautiful she is when finally unveiled. In many cases of course this isn’t a pretence because the woman may indeed never have revealed their face to them before. In the case of Cassandra though, she had been Yishana’s unveiled captive, and her features were all too familiar from the time she had been paraded at the foot of the towering cliffs of the Bastion. 

Tijani stepped forward and motioned with his hands that the woman was welcome before them. “Greetings, Lady,” he spoke, “you stand within a circle of companionship. May I ask you to identify yourself?”

“I am the Lady Cassandra Assante, of the house of Brinn Assante, daughter of Stannis and Livinnia Assante, family associated to my father and brother’s caste, the warriors.” Her voice sounded proud and distinctive as it always did. “My Home Stone is Vonda and I am welcome to call upon the shelter of the Sardar through affiliation with my brother.”

That’s Brinn’s surname by the way. Assante. Brinn Assante. The last syllable is pronounced to rhyme with ‘say’.

“You are welcome, Lady Cassandra. May I ask whether you were forced, coerced or threatened in any manner to enter this circle?”

“I was not,” said Cassandra with dignity. “I stand here of my own free will, having suffered no coercion to do so.”

This is an important aspect of the ceremony in most cities where for legal reasons it must be made clear that the woman is not for example a captive who has had no choice in the matter. Goreans take free companionship very seriously and consider it very different to slavery.

“Do you know this man?” asked Tijani as he motioned towards Simon. “You stand before him after all.”

“That is my beloved, Simon Rogers of the Sardar mountains, and the man to whom I freely offer my heart.”

Lady Saffia attended Cassandra, preceding her slightly with a bouquet of ‘flowers’ in her hands. In actual fact they were the withered shrubs we had been able to pluck from the base of the cliffside, but needs must as we weren't likely to locate a florists. She was playing the part of Cassandra’s handmaiden – a role that required a free woman of course. If Lady Saffia looked uncomfortable in the role it was probably due to the fact that a handmaiden in a free companionship ceremony is required to be dressed in white, and as the only garment Saffia possessed in that colour was her calf length under gown, that was what she was now wearing. The under-gown of a free woman is the second to last garment worn; the silken knee length under-slip being the garment that actually touches the skin; and as is often the case, the under-gown tends to be quite figure revealing compared to the casual looseness of the outer gowns. Saffia’s luscious curves were therefore quite brazenly displayed in that simple cotton garment and she could sense how the men were looking at her now. She was veiled of course, with a length of white rep cloth that had been carefully wound about her lower face, but even so there was no mistaking the swell of her breasts, the sweetness of her hips and waist in such attire. Saffia had little grounds to complain though, for it was her participation in the ceremony that had kept her free. Brinn would have enslaved her after the Cosian defeat, except that Cassandra had swiftly spoken out, forbidding it.

“I require a handmaiden to precede me to the free companion ceremony,” she said, quite correctly as regards protocol. “The handmaiden must be a free woman and Saffia is the only free woman here save me, so I forbid you from enslaving her. She remains free.”

Brinn had accepted that rationale and had agreed to spare Saffia the collar for that reason. You can imagine how grateful Saffia was to Cassandra, practically curtseying before her, despite her high status in Cos, and yes, Cassandra loved seeing that.

“I self certify myself as being pure and chaste, having never known the intimate touch of a man, and that I know of no condition that may affect my fertility. On these matters I swear the truth of those statements on my Home Stone and my honour, knowing full well the penalties for misrepresentation.”

It is a serious matter indeed for a free woman to deceive a man in respect of her virginity and ability to bear children. That is not to say a man would refuse to take as a Free Companion a woman who was not a virgin, but he would insist on knowing the situation before he decided whether to take her as a companion or not. To present yourself as a virgin when in fact you have a previous sexual history is misrepresentation and under commercial law, which is essentially what a Free Companionship involves, is a serious matter. Furthermore the matter of fertility is an important one as one of the principle reasons for Free Companionship from a man’s point of view is to bring children into the world. Sex, as far as the man is concerned, is of minor importance as he can use slaves to satisfy those needs.

A free woman who has misrepresented herself in such a fashion could be brought before a magistrate of the city and the penalty is typically enslavement. I do not think Cassandra would dare take such a risk and therefore I was sure she was telling the truth both about her virginity and her perceived fertility. It is important to stress that if she turned out not to be fertile she would not be held accountable for her assumptions, provided she wasn’t actually aware of the fact. It is unlikely however that the free companionship would be renewed at the end of the one year period and she would find it hard to contract another relationship with a man unless her hand in companionship might bring social advancement, power or wealth. An infertile woman has less value as a ‘bride’ on Gor. Child bearing is a primary aspect of her value.

Companionship is important to a free woman for very different reasons of course. Primarily it is the only socially approved relationship in which a free woman can satisfy her sexual needs in some fashion. It is difficult for free women to approach men for sex on Gor without appearing indecent, and even when courting a man a certain decorum and respectability is required. Only when the wines of companionship are drunk can the free woman truly offer herself to a man’s couch. This is why so many free women are virgins before their first companionship, and why they approach the bridal night with anxiety and nerves, knowing precious little of sex. Invariably the man is accustomed to the skills of slave-girls and finds the experience with a free woman frustrating and inadequate at best. Some men find the experience so incredibly dull and passionless that they may never invite their companion to their couch again, preferring to enjoy slaves instead. The free woman has little recourse in such matters and swiftly grows to resent and loathe the slaves all the more. In time she may try to entice the man back into bed, but she has to tread a very careful line, being sexually suggestive enough to seduce him, but not be so wanton as to act like a slave. A man witnessing slave like behaviour in his free companion can report such things to a magistrate. The consequences for a free woman at best would be social embarrassment and at worst if the evidence provided is damning, she might end up in a collar.

Free women are entitled to enjoy sex, just not too much. And the paradox is that by restraining and hiding their basic needs and desires, they run the risk of being unappealing to the very men they desire.

Free women also look to companionship for status and protection, for Gor is a dangerous, wild and primitive world compared to Earth, and a woman often needs the protection of a strong man to feel safe and secure. Provided she remains respectful and loving, the man will protect his woman with a sword. But if she shames his household in any way, he may disown her.

“A free woman has entered the circle of companionship of her own volition,” said Tijani, reciting the formal phrases of the ceremony to Simon. “Do you find her of interest?”

“It is hard to tell,” said Simon, “Veiled as she is. For all I know she may be as ugly as a forest tarsk.”

Tijani nodded at this ritual return of phrase which was the prelude to the unveiling part of the ceremony. Turning to Cassandra he said, “Unveil yourself before this man if you wish to petition for his companionship.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the Gorean men as Cassandra began to remove her outer veils. Gorean men are psyched to respond intensely to the sight of a woman baring her lower face. It is hard to conceive on Earth what a dramatic turn of events something like this can be, and men on Gor find it highly erotic. Every set of eyes was on Cassandra now as she teased the first of the veils from her face, growing bolder with each successive layer until only a single semi-transparent veil remained. Everyone here knew of course what she looked like for Yishana had kept her unveiled as a captive, but the audience of course pretended to never have seen her face before. Only when her hands hesitated at the final veil, did her modesty prevent her from going any further. This too is part of the ceremony. Most women would be afraid to remove the final veil, but even if they were confident enough to do so they would be expected to act out the part of a blushing virgin now, hesitant to go any further.

“Why do you hesitate, free woman?” asked Tijani. “You stand before a man in the circle of companionship. Remove the final veil or it shall be done for you.”

“Please, no… my modesty…” she said breathlessly in a way that made me wince. This too is part of the rehearsed protocol and pretence of the ceremony. Cassandra made it sound very convincing. She was either a very good actress or her response to removing the final veil was all too real and genuine.

Tijani nodded to Simon who then stepped forward in the assembled torch light and with his right hand, brushing away the protesting palms of Cassandra’s hands, stripped the final veil from her face. There was an audible gasp from the men in the audience and considerable applause as the Lady’s features were finally revealed in the flickering torch light. The bitch is beautiful, I’ll give her that, and the men applauded in the Gorean fashion by striking their left shoulder with their right hand.

Cassandra of course looked doe eyed and modest, glancing to the ground as if embarrassed to be seen unveiled, something that was expected of her at this point in the ceremony.

“Is this woman pleasing to behold?” asked Tijani with a smile.

“She is as beautiful as she is is chaste and modest,” said Simon, speaking the formal response. “Truly I do desire her and I will take her as my companion.”

There was more applause and cheering from the men as Cassandra basked in their warm approval. She giggled slightly, overcome by the emotional outpouring and this polite acknowledgement of her beauty. I saw her cheeks flush with happiness as she boldly took a step forward and reached out to Simon’s extended hands. He took her hands by the wrists and held them before him as he spoke.

“By the laws and customs of Vonda and the Sardar and in the all seeing eyes of the Priest Kings, I do ask for you as my Free Companion for the duration of one year.”

“And I accept and acknowledge your claim upon me, Simon of the Sardar, and I pledge myself to you and you alone for that year. I am yours to command, love and protect.”

“Lady Saffia,” said Tijani politely, “if you would now bring forth the wine…”

I noticed she was barefoot as she approached, carrying a small flask of ka-la-na wine which she poured into a silver goblet. Her hands shook a little, for she knew that she was the woman who had been the companion of the Admiral of the Cosian fleet, and was therefore technically spoils of war in the eyes of Brinn’s men who lusted after her slim body in the thin cotton gown she wore. Only Cassandra’s desire for a ceremonial handmaiden had kept her from the collar. How lucky she was that Cassandra and Simon had decided to free companion on this beach, for otherwise she might now be weeping with a fresh brand on her hip, kneeling beside Mina.

I watched her bow and curtsey before both Simon and Cassandra and offer them the goblet which they held together with interlinked arms. Saffia was mostly ignored now as the happy couple turned to face one another, gazing at each others eyes as they drank the wine and at the moment their lips simultaneously touched the rim of the goblet, and as Cassandra giggled again in joy, the union was sealed.

“Simon, you are charged with protecting this Lady for the space of a year and extending to her the rights of companionship, and Cassandra you are charged with obeying and respecting your man and extending to him your charms as required. In the eyes of the Priest Kings I now pronounce you Free Companions.”

Everyone cheered and the men thumped their shoulders in applause. We had been commanded by Chloe to smile and clap and so we did, on our knees, pretending at least to be in awe of the Mistress and her beautiful betrothal. Deep down of course I still hated the bitch and I hoped she’d make Simon's life a misery from now on and vice versa.

What came next was the inevitable feast with an array of simple food and wines from Brinn’s ship served by the girls in our sack cloth garments. The cooking was good, even if the provisions were nothing compared to what might have been provided in the Sardar or Vonda. Men came up individually or in groups to congratulate Simon and Cassandra and to offer their compliments on her grace and beauty. She of course basked in all the attention as she held on to Simon’s left arm with both hands. There were a few well meaning ribald jokes to which Cassandra blushed as was expected of her. With one such joke she buried her face into Simon’s chest and squealed in mock outrage and embarrassment – all part of the expected act, for tonight Cassandra as a free woman was permitted to show some excitement for what was to come in the privacy of their silk canopy tent.

We were all kept busy that night, running back and forth serving food and drinks to the men on the beach. We didn’t lack for paga and wine from the Waverider. Normally once the men got drunk there would be cries for dancing girls and the experienced dancers amongst us would be ordered to step out onto the sand and dance our repertoire, weaving in and out of eager grasping hands with a flurry of dancing silks tied to our hips, but this was the free companionship feast for Brinn’s sister and a certain degree of restraint was therefore called for. And by restraint I’m obviously not talking about additional bondage.

None of us liked wearing the ugly sa-tarna grain sacks as tunics and we longed for night to fall when the bedding of the free companions would take place. Once Cassandra was whisked away to her companionship couch things could possibly get a little more lively; the garments would be stripped from us and we would enjoy the attentions of the men at length. I had to my delight found a small crop of yellow talender flowers growing on the cliff top. These I picked and distributed to the girls who were quite excited to have them. The talender flower is precious to a needy slave as there is a tradition on Gor that a slave girl who fixes the flower to her hair is silently begging for use. Another option is to tie what is known as a bondage knot in your hair. A master seeing his girl wearing her hair in that fashion knows that she is desperate for his touch. We had placed the talenders out of sight where we might retrieve them later on once Cassandra was in bed.

“Maybe you should wear a talender when you serve Geralt tonight?” I said to Chloe with a nudge and a wink.

“Perhaps I will, slave girl,” she said back with a smile. “And tell the other girls that if any of them go near Geralt tonight they’ll have the wrath of Chloe on them in the morning.”

“Leave it to me. Every time Master Geralt calls for more paga he’ll find every girl but you seemingly occupied.” We hugged and I wished her all the best.

The bedding begins with guests in good humour calling out that it is time for the bedding. They strike their shoulders with their fists if they are men, or perhaps the surface of tables until the groom stands and accepts the overwhelming call that now is the time to claim his woman in the time honoured tradition. Further up the beach stood the isolated tent that had been set up as a bed chamber. Surrounding it were poles with soft lanterns. The interior was lined with the best furs we could find, plus a flask of wine, a goblet from which they might drink together and some food reputed to have aphrodisiac properties. It is traditional also for the guests to play a little joke which is always expected, by placing a switch and a pair of chain bracelets on the soft furs, supposedly for the man to use if he wishes. Custom dictates then that the woman always finds them (she knows where to look) and throws them out from the doorway in disgust, chiding her man for his presumption. The man then scoops her up and takes her back inside for the love making.

Cassandra looked flushed and excited as the cries for the bedding began in earnest. Her eyes gleamed with happiness and she squeezed Simon’s arm and whispered something to him that made him smile. More and more men, especially Brinn’s men, took up the chant of ‘to the couch, to the couch!” that soon swept across the beach. Slaves of course remained silent throughout. And then Simon raised his goblet and announced to everyone, “a bedding it shall be!” and the assembled guests cheered loud enough to wake the dead.

With one last gulp of paga, Simon threw the goblet away and scooped a squealing Cassandra off her feet. The action was so quick that Cassandra lost one of her slippers in the process. To the accompaniment of more cheers and more applause, Simon carried Cassandra into the tent where moments later Cassandra appeared to angrily throw out a pair of slave bracelets and a crop. Then Simon’s hand emerged, seized her wrists and with a scream of delight from Cassandra, drew her deep into the hut, shutting the curtain in its place.

The bedding had begun and it was the signal that no one had to behave themselves any more. As quick as lightning I had my hands in my hair twisting some of the strands into a bondage knot as I knelt before Brinn gazing up at him. The men in his circle laughed, smacked him hard on his back and Geralt himself said, “Captain, your girl has a message for you it seems.”

“So it seems,” he replied, grinning and raising his goblet to me as I finished the bondage knot with a flourish. “Dance for us, Emma, on the sand, on your knees, close by.” And I did, moving on my knees, sometimes on all fours, arching my back, raising my arms, crawling to the men, especially Brinn, and responding to the simple rhythm that the men beat out with their hands on their shields. I pulled the hated sa-tarna sack from my body as I danced and I threw it far away into the shadows. I would be naked the rest of the night, naked before my Master. He took hold of me after five minutes and threw me to the ground. I felt him enter me, hard, sudden, as I had aroused him greatly. It was a drunken urgent fuck and his men laughed as I squealed and writhed on he sand. There was nothing elegant about it but I loved it all the same.

“I love you, Master,” I said breathlessly as he fucked hard inside me.

“I know, slave girl,” he said with a broad grin. “You wear my collar.”

“I love your collar, Master!” And it was true, That is how I feel when Brinn fucks me. When he was done he brought me back into the camp circle and fed me some ka-la-na that I relished. I lay with my head in his lap, practically purring with contentment while other men seized other girls and ravished them in the semi-darkness. Somewhere down the beach, Simon and Cassandra would now be naked, and Cassandra would be learning what it is to be a woman. But I had no interest in her happiness.

Somewhere close by I heard a frantic scream. It was the Lady Saffia and I saw her being stripped and forced to her knees. I gazed in bewilderment as a collar was placed around her throat by Brinn's men.

“Master?” I gazed up at Brinn in obvious confusion.

“You didn't hear Cassandra’s parting words to me after the ceremony,” explained Brinn. “They were: 'You can collar the Cosian slut now, brother. She is of no further use to me.”

To be concluded in Chapter Twenty: 'There is a Light That Never Goes Out'