Dunes of Gor Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: The House of Muud Attar

“You will, of course, both need false names, gentle Mistresses,” says Ghadir after a while. They have almost reached the slaver establishment of Muud Attar as the solemn sounding bells denoting the time of slave curfew sound. Now there is no going back for the sisters, for they are not permitted to be on the streets of the market quarter unaccompanied after that bell has sounded. 

Jingle

Jingle

Jingle

Their ankles ring out as they tremble. The curfew bell has sounded! They huddle together slightly, knowing that they rely completely on Ghadir now. 

“But of course,” said Serafina. “A false identity makes sense.”

“You, my gentle Mistress, will be Tupa,” he indicates Serafina, “and you, younger, gentler, Mistress, will be Tepa. Tupa and Tepa,” he confirms again.

“I do not wish to be called Tupa,” sniffs Serafina. 

“You would prefer Tepa?” suggests Ghadir, restraining any possibility of a smile. 

“No! Oh, you are so insufferable at times! Must you always be so slow witted? I do not wish to be called either Tupa or Tepa. They are both slave names.”

“True,” said Ghadir. “But lacking the soul of a poet, I am unable to come up with better names at such short notice. Tupa and Tepa you shall both be. Come along now.” He motions for the girls to follow him to the house across the street.

Like most slaver establishments in the vicinity of Brand Street, the house of Muud Attar advertises its presence by the chaining of two lovely beauties either side of its open doorway. The girls, dusky skinned, kohl eyed and dressed only in semi-diaphanous chalwar pants, their nails painted, their lips rouged and their nipples decorated with henna patterns, kneel in nadu as display items. As is the fashion in Tor, the female slaves wear veils, but these are not the modest veils of the free women but rather transparent pieces of the finest see through silk, that hide nothing of their ripe lips; the veils fixed in place with the lightest of gilded chains. The veils are a mockery of veils in general and draw attention to the lips of the slave rather than conceal them. 

“I do not want to go in there,” whispers Serafina to her sister. “I am very scared. Look at the women chained by their collars to the posts outside!”

“I do not want to look,” said Jaleesa. “They would only offend me by their brazenness.” 

The sisters followed Ghadir and Najina through the arched doorway and into the cool interior of the slaver building. Like many of the slaver houses on Brand Street it was not particularly large compared with some of the grand businesses found in central Gor. Inside was a wide open area in which Muud Attar conducted his business. At the back was a curtained off room in which private business could be conducted over tea and sweet cakes, and beyond that was a set of stairs that led into a basement. Above the shop was Muud Attar’s personal rooms in which he would eat, sleep and rest. As Ghadir stepped through the doorway he found Muud Attar marking up some ledgers. When he saw the favoured slave of House Shahzad, he smiled and rose from his desk. 

“Noble Master,” said Ghadir, bowing as was proper. “I am here on business on behalf of my Master. This is our latest acquisition, a slave named Najina.” He indicated her with a flourish of his hand. “My Master wishes full papers of ownership to be drawn up and submitted to the central register.”

“Of course,” said Muud as he noticed two other haik covered women. “And these?”

“Ah, now these do not belong to my Master. These are new acquisitions by the Narenj café. They were free ladies only this morning, but were sentenced to slavery this afternoon by the magistrate for lewd and salacious behaviour, unbefitting free women.”

“Shame!” said Muud Attar. “They disrespect their peers and bring the great city of Tor into disrepute. What sis they do?”

“Well,” Ghadir smiled. “This one is Tupa, Master. Step forward, Tupa.”

With an angry ‘huff’, Serafina reluctantly stepped forward, the bells on her ankles ringing. 

“Little Tupa was seen in public lifting the hem of her haik to adjust her virgin bell and make it ring more clearly as she spied a, no doubt handsome and appealing to her, young man walking down the road.”

“Shameful!” said Muud Attar, much to Serafina’s annoyance. She had, as it happened, once or twice done just that when handsome young men visited her father’s house, but Ghadir wouldn’t have known about it.     

“And this is Tepa, Master. She played with her veils in public, pretending a slight disarray, as men passed by.”

“Equally shameful!” said Muud Attar. “Slavery is the logical conclusion.”

“Indeed,” said Ghadir. “They were purchased sight unseen by an agent of the café and, as a favour, the owner enquired whether I could take them with me for a standard valuation. The café would like to know whether they have bought themselves a bargain, or whether these two girls may simply be fat bottomed kettle sluts.”

“Oh!” Serafina stamped her foot in anger, hearing that.

“Quiet, Tupa!” snarled Muud. “We will have no such outbursts in my place of business.” Then he turned back to Ghadir. “Just a standard valuation? A copper tarsk valuation? Nothing more?”

“As you say. Formally documented of course, with the usual identifying features carefully recorded. I do not have the paperwork for these two girls, but as you can see, the café has clearly tagged them with ownership bands.”

“So it has,” said Muud, lifting each one in turn. “And they are belled?”

“As you have heard, Master,” said Ghadir pleasantly.  

“Well then, let us start with the café slaves. It is always interesting to see the results of a blind purchase. I wonder what we will find? Two little treasures fit for serving in a curtain alcove, or just plain stupid girls, barely capable of cleaning pots.”

“Oh!” Serafina stamped her foot in frustration and anger again. 

“Not one more outburst, Tupa,” warned Muud. “I am not a patient man, it has been said. I have a whip close to hand.”

Both girls fell very silent when the whip was mentioned.

“Ah, much better! Now then, both of you, Tupa and Tepa, strip completely. Let us see what the Narenj has bought.”

“Here?” said Serafina in dismay. “Can we not undress in private in the room beyond? Men on the street can look through the doorway and…” there was suddenly a sharp cry from Serafina as Muud picked up his whip and lashed her twice. Both girls immediately began fumbling with their haiks, undressing down to their house garments.

“I see their clothing is of fine quality,” said Muud as he watched the tearful Serafina throw the haik to one side. Jaleesa did likewise. “Now the rest of your garments! Every stitch, until you are as naked as the slaves you are!”

There was much sobbing as the sisters divested themselves of chalwars, cholis, gallabiyas and the outer thobe al nasha-ar. They kicked off their pretty slippers and then finally, with more tearful protests, removed their veils.

“Well…” Muud seemed very impressed. “And how much did the café pay, blind, for these two?

“I have sworn not to say,” said Ghadir, “Except, between you and me, Master, you would be surprised at how cheaply they were tagged.”  

“These are fine looking girls indeed.” He crossed over to where the two sisters stood in defensive poses, their hands trying to cover some of their more beautiful assets. “Such beautiful thighs, ample breasts, slim waists, and lips that cry out to be kissed. This is fine stock indeed. Very fine stock.” The slaver began to circle the girls, touching their rumps, thighs, breasts, and other parts of their anatomy in turn. With each professional touch, a girl shrieked, until Muud grew tired of their protests and set about with the whip again. Each girl received four cursory lashes until they were quiet, subdued and eager to comply with further touching.     

Gradually the touching became more intrusive until Jaleesa suddenly gasped and blushed.

“Oh ho,” said Muud. “She reacts well.” He made a note on a piece of parchment.

“Does she?” said Ghadir with interest. 

“Oh yes. A routine number of basic caresses of an intimate nature and her body warmed up quite quickly.”

Jaleesa blushed bright red as her sister, Serafina, stared at her in shock. 

“Does she oil quickly for use?” enquired Ghadir, pleasantly enough.

“I would say so,” said Muud.” Very healthy sexual responses when touched in the correct way. Quite the hot little slut.”

“You’re a hot little slut?” said Serafina to her sister in disgust. “I’m ashamed of you!” Jaleesa sobbed and couldn’t look at Serafina. She was overcome with shame and humiliation. 

Muud chuckled as he made more notes on his piece of paper. “They know each other, I take it?”

“Sisters,” said Ghadir. “You can note that on the paperwork.”

“And what of you, Tupa?” enquired Muud as he gazed up from his notes. “Would you say you are a hot little slut who oils quickly?”

“No I am not!” announced Serafina, angrily. 

“You are sure?” the Slaver smiled.

“Of course! Just because my slut of a sister reacted that way, doesn’t mean I am the same as her!”

“I see.” Muud completed his assessment of the younger girl and added, “I ask because I personally do not like it when slaves lie or try to conceal information about themselves from free men. I will now assess you the same way, and if I find that you have been lying, and that you are indeed a hot little slut who oils easily, well then, I shall whip you with twenty lashes as a warning not to lie again.”

“Wait!” cried Serafina in fear. “There is no need to whip me!

“Provided you were the telling the truth, I agree,” said Muud with a smile.

“Wait! I may have exaggerated certain aspects of my chaste responses to the touch of a man.”

“Hmm, is that so.” 

“It is so,” said Serafina with a blush of her own. 

“Shall I ask you again then?”

Serafina nodded.

“Are you a hot little slut who oils easily from the touch of a man?”

“I… I may be…” sobbed Serafina. 

Ten ehn later, after some exquisite touching of the older girl, Muud confirmed on paper that she was indeed a hot little slut who oiled easily, and much more besides. 

“See! You are no better than me!” hissed Jaleesa at her shame faced older sister. In fact Serafina had been even more vocal than Jaleesa had been. “I am ashamed of YOU! Slut of a sister! Oh, you’re not so high and mighty now, are you?” 

“I didn’t know…” sobbed Serafina, overcome with shame, as she lay on her belly across a table, her hands secured in fetters at one end, her legs spread and ankles chained to opposite table legs, “I didn’t know… it would be… like that…” Muud had commenced a far more elaborate examination than he had done with her compliant sister. With Serafina he had not simply determined whether she oiled easily, but brought her slowly towards a loud orgasm with his hand, just so that her sister could see what sort of girl she was. 

“A slut of the first order,” said Muud as he made further notes and regarded Jaleesa. “Did you see the way Tupa squirmed, Tepa?”

“Yes,” said Jaleesa in anger. “She acted like a brazen slave! Whereas I simply oiled to your touch.”

“You did oil to my touch,” remarked Muud, “and you did so exquisitely, my dear.” 

“Interesting,” said Ghadir. He had watched the full performance and had found it an education. Who would have thought his mistress bound to the table could have squirmed quite so much, and towards the end thrust her bottom so eagerly against the slaver’s probing hand? “You will note all of this down in the valuation, Master?”

“Such things would normally be the remit of a full examination, rather than a one copper tarsk evaluation,” said the slaver with a sigh.

“For a valued customer, perhaps?” suggested Ghadir.   

“I suppose I can, then.” Muud completed his findings and, adding numbers to the various notes, came up with estimated values for each girl.

“These figures take into account a lack of any training or experience, of course. In time their values will appreciate considerably.”

Serafina lay on her belly, her wrists and ankles tightly bound. She had just orgasmed. She had just been made to orgasm by the touch of a man. She wept, realising that she had had no choice in the matter. A man could make her orgasm whether she wished to or not. Now they were discussing her price. A part of her was curious, despite her condition, as many women are, concerning their block price. Just how many sacks of gold would she be worth?

“Tepa is an excellent purchase. Untrained, but worth at least 47 copper tarsks I’d say. Possibly as many as 55 in the right market. As for Tupa, she squirms delightfully to the touch of my hand, but that in itself is not enough to have her match her sister. I’d say you could get 35 copper tarsks for her.”

“What?!” Serafina struggled against her restraints. “Impossible! I would be worth sacks of gold!”

The men laughed. “Oh, hardly, my dear,” said Muud as he completed the paperwork, signed it off and handed it to Ghadir. “But fear not. 35 copper tarsks is a good price for an inexperienced girl in Tor.”

“No! I must be worth much more than that!”

“Quiet, Tupa,” said Ghadir as he spanked her raised bottom. She yelped and was quickly silent. 

“So, on to your lovely Najina,” said Muud. “This will take longer of course. Do you wish to wait, or…”

“I think I will go for a walk, stretch my legs,” said Ghadir. “Can you secure Tupa and Tepa for me? I will collect them when I come back for Najina.”

“Of course. I should be through with Najina in just over an ahn.”

“I will see you then,” said Ghadir as he folded the papers and left the building. He paused to pick up and fold the garments of the free women which he placed into his day bag and took with him, leaving just the plain black haiks behind. 

Serafina was freed from the examination table and taken to a slave ring on the

left hand wall. There she was made to kneel in nadu and a slave collar was locked about her throat, much to her protests. A chain locked on to her collar ring and then on to the display ring set into the wall. Jaleesa was soon added to the ring next to her sister.

Neither girl spoke to one another. They had both witnessed each other’s shame, not to mention experienced their own. 

They watched as Najina was stripped and then put through a thorough assessment that far outstripped their own. 

“Look at that slut,” said Serafina as she clutched at her collar chain. “She is worse than you!”

Jaleesa stiffened and glared at her sister. “But she is not as much of a slut as you!”

“Take that back!” hissed Serafina. “I did not know what to expect! I was not prepared for his touch!”

“Slut!” hissed Jaleesa.

“Slut! Slut!” hissed Serafina. 

“Quiet, sluts! Both of you!” shouted Muud as he had to pause from his examination of Najina. “Or it shall be the whip again!” 

There was silence again.

Fifteen ehn went by before another man entered the establishment. Muud looked up from his work and saw the newcomer.

“Ah, most honourable Babak! You grace me with your presence,” said Muud as he welcomed the tall man with the fine beard and moustaches, and the long charcoal grey robes. 

“May the blessings of the Priest Kings be with you, Muud Attar,” said Babak.

“I know why you’re here,” said Muud with a smile. “Curiosity has got the better of you, eh?”

“I am not sure what you mean,” said Babak as he gazed in and saw the girl being examined and the two beauties chained to the wall.

“You couldn’t wait to be told the value of the two new slaves purchased for the pens of your café,” said Muud as he indicated the naked figures of Serafina and Jaleesa. Ownership tags for the Narnej café still hung from their wrists.

“I haven’t been keeping up with recent purchases for my café. Farrokh has been handling those transactions for some time now. But they are mine you say?”

“Oh yes, honourable Babak. Just brought in less than an ahn ago on your behalf, and beauties they are too. They have yet to be branded though. Have I mentioned my competitive rates for branding girls new to the collar?”