Dunes of Gor Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: The Narenj

Hooded and leashed, her wrists locked in slave bracelets behind her back, Jaleesa stumbled helplessly after the man who led her through the dark streets of the market quarter of Tor. Only an ahn ago she had been thrust up onto the rough wooden platform raised above the market square that was the Mazad – the twice weekly night-time auction of slaves; both new to the collar and experienced. She had been designated ‘twelve’. That was her name. She had desperately tried to find her sister, Serafina, but she had been kept on her knees in a small tent behind the platform, with a hood over her head that stank of some other girl’s sweat. 

When it was her turn she had been pushed and prodded up onto the stage in the warm night air, and as the auctioneer welcomed her onto his boards, she was forced by the whip to display herself in a number of provocative poses. Jaleesa had been sick to begin with, which wasn’t a good start to the auction. Furious, the auctioneer had whipped her hard as an assistant quickly climbed up to wipe away the traces of vomit with a bucket and rag. Then another wet rag had been used to wipe Jaleesa’s mouth clean and she had been whipped again. 

The auctioneer had apologised for her poor showing and had urged the crowd not to think badly of the girl for her unsatisfactory entrance.

“She is new to her collar, but will adjust quickly! Look at those breasts and the way her ass curves outwards to the touch of a man!”

But the damage had been done, and bidding was miserable for Jaleesa. Although she posed and walked from end to end of the stage, many men were already dismissive of a girl who might be sick within half an ahn of being purchased. In the end Jaleesa sold for twenty seven copper tarsks – far less than had been expected.

She was hurried off the stage as an embarrassment to the Mazad and whipped again.

Then, hooded and her wrists chained, she was thrust into the purchased girls tent to await her new owner.

Jaleesa wore a slave collar now that was locked about her neck. At the front of the collar was a steel hinged ring to which the leash was clipped. When her new master came to claim his bargain purchase, nothing was said to her, except when the slaver assistant told her it was time to go.

“Where is my sister…” she tried to say, but received three sharp blows of the switch against her thighs.

“No talking!” screamed the assistant. He added two extra blows to her ass for good measure.

Jaleesa had no idea who owned her now. She prayed it was Ghadir, but if it was Ghadir why had he not said anything? Where was she being taken to? The stone flagstones under her feet, that signified she was walking down a main thoroughfare, gave way to simple baked earth, suggesting they had then ventured away from the main street and into the maze of side streets and alleys that housed the lesser souqs and poorer commercial establishments. Jaleesa felt numb with shock and occasionally stumbled but was always brought up again with a sharp tug of the leash. Soon she heard loud voices laughing, talking, and even singing. She heard music, as she guessed she was being led to a café somewhere in the quarter. Her heart sank for this could only mean that Ghadir had not bought her. Despite her cheap price, he must have spent all his money on Serafina. She must have been auctioned before her. And so she belonged now to some café owner, much like the owner of the Narenj. Jaleesa collapsed to her knees as the realisation of her fate now became obvious. At best she would be some lowly kettle girl forced to work from morning to night, beaten if she was clumsy, lost amongst the maze of backstreets within the mercantile quarter of the city. And at worst she would be pressed into service as an alcove girl in the café, painted with cheap cosmetics, perfumed like some slut and sent out onto the sawdust to entice customers to use her for a copper tarsk. 

The tug on her leash lifted her back onto her feet and as the volume of laughter and conversation grew louder, and from the strong smell of sweat and fermented alcohol, she knew she was being taken in through the café door. 

Was there no hope for her? The only thing that gave her any sense of composure was the knowledge then that her sister had probably been spared this fate. Serafina would soon be free, and Jaleesa had paid the price for her sister to regain her freedom. And then and there Jaleesa realised she was prepared to pay that price for her sister. She would be strong. She would endure this fate if it meant Serafina would be spared it. She had never realised how far she might go to protect her older sister from suffering, but now she knew.

Rather me than you, she thought to herself. I will spare you this, sister. I would not cast you to this fate to save myself. You would do the same for me, I know you would, Serafina.

Jaleesa couldn’t help herself bumping into tables and people as her master led her by the leash through the café floor. At times he took her by the elbow too in order to steer her straight. Naked as she was, she felt hands reach out to stroke her thighs as she passed. But then she felt hands push her down onto the floor in a kneeling position. Vibrant music played nearby – the finger plucking sound of the czehar; the melodious sound of the double flute; the supple sound of the six stringed kalika; the brash beat of the hand held kaska drum; and the accompaniment of finger cymbals from a dancing slave in the central sandpit. 

And then the same hands that had thrust her to her knees pulled the leather hood from her face. Jaleesa looked up, her hair matted and tangled, straight into the eyes of Ghadir.

“Gentle Mistress,” said the high slave as he sat cross-legged beside the low table in the manner of a free man of Tor. He wore his usual robes, permitted by his master, Daan Shahzad, but also a Bedouin scarf that was wrapped about his head and shoulders, easily concealing the steel collar around his throat. The scarf was long and wide enough to also act as a desert veil for his lower face, but here in the café he had brushed that part aside. 

“Ghadir!” Jaleesa tried to move but her wrists were still confined in slave steel. “You… you bought me?!”

“I did. Congratulations, Mistress, I won the auction.”

“But where is Serafina? And where are we? This is a… café…” It was indeed. It was just as she had witnessed earlier that day when for a lark the girls had belled themselves, ventured down Brand Street, and peered in through the smoke glazed windows to the café floor inside. It was cramped inside, with men rubbing shoulders with one another as they crouched and sat in small groups drinking hot tea, paga and distilled spirits. Slaves lay scattered about the floor, nuzzling and caressing the men as they lay sprawled in laps, their bodies mostly naked but for wisps of silk and bangles, their skin dusted in places with sand from where they had earlier danced. Two other girls moved in the sand pit, dancing to the instruments being played from a side alcove. And other alcoves lined the far wall, curtained off for the use of slaves in a more private setting.

“This is the Narenj,” said Ghadir as he signalled for a drink to be brought to the table. “You briefly belonged to the establishment, you may recall, Mistress.”

“But why are we here? And where is Serafina?”

“You mean Tupa,” said Ghadir with warning. “There is no privacy here. You are Tepa and your sister is Tupa. No other names should be spoken of.”

Jaleesa nodded. If Ghadir had bought her, then why was she still naked? Why was she collared? Why were her wrists bound? Why were they now in a café where girls served men in silk lined alcoves?

“Where is Tupa?”

“She is in a steel collar, no doubt being led through the streets of Tor at the end of a leash as you were. I could not buy her. There was not sufficient money left after you were auctioned. I am sorry, gentle Mistress. Your sister is now a slave in Tor.”

“No!” Jaleesa wept and shook her head. “We have to find her! We have to.”

“Hush. You are a slave girl in a café. Do not attract attention.”

“Free my wrists, Ghadir! “ Jaleesa turned to present her bound wrists to him. With a sigh Ghadir produced a key and unlocked the slave bracelets, returning them to a concealed pocket within his robes. “You will need to call me ‘master’ here otherwise you will attract attention.” He watched as Jaleesa rubbed her sore wrists.

“Again, why are we here… Master,” she added bitterly. “And why am I naked! And why am I…”

“One question at a time please, Mistress. You are naked because I do not have clothes for you. You sit in the Narenj café because it is safer than being out on the streets at this ungodly hour. I cannot take you back through the gates until morning, because the gates will be closed now. A café such as this is open all night until dawn, and then a little even beyond that. It is a safe place for us to reside for the hours until the gates are re-opened, and since I have some money remaining I can buy us food and drink.”

“While my sister is led off into slavery! No! I will not just sit here and…”

“If you walk out of that door you will be a naked, collared slave venturing through the maze of streets that is this quarter. Either you will be picked up by guardsmen or you will encounter drunk men. Neither prospect should appeal to you tonight.”

Ghadir watched as Jaleesa returned to her kneeling position. He smiled when he saw how she knelt in tower with her thighs pressed closely together.

“Don’t look at me like that!” She covered her breasts with her arms., 

“There is nothing we can do for Tupa tonight.”

“When we return to the house I will have every man in our employ out searching for my sister! We shall find her and…”

“No.” Ghadir shook his head. “You cannot tell anyone what has happened tonight. Think of the reputation of your family. A scandal such as this would destroy your family. Your House would be humbled and easy pickings for the other great Houses. Your father would lose any support he has from the Emir. He might possibly find himself incarcerated in the Emir’s vast dungeons and your mother and yourself enslaved to end the shame to House Shahzad. Do you wish to see your mother dragged from her home, stripped, branded, whipped and put to work in the Narenj?”

“No...” Whispered Jaleesa in shock.

“Then kneel quietly and let me talk... The truth cannot be told. When you return to the house you will tell a different story. Your sister went her own way today and you do not know what she did or where she went. It is a mystery, but a mystery that will spare you the consequences of describing what happened to you today.”

“I can’t leave her to her fate!” sobbed Jaleesa.

“Of course not. And I shall make enquiries in the city, beginning tomorrow. I will learn who has bought her, though it may take a while. Then, through subtle and anonymous channels, without tipping anyone off as to who she might be, I will arrange to buy her with your money. It is just a question of money. Every slave is on sale for the right price.”

“But it may be too late! She may be branded! She may be… used.”

“I fear so,” said Ghadir. “We have to face the truth that this will be done to her. But we will find her. Possibly quicker than if you explained what had happened and send your men in search of her. Imagine what would happen if it became known that Serafina was enslaved? Every rival House would also look for her because they would love to own the eldest daughter of House Shahzad. Can you imagine how she might suffer then? How your family would suffer if some other House owned Tupa?”

“I… hadn’t thought…”

“So yes, you will act as if you know nothing of her disappearance. And we will work in secret to find her through channels that will not cause waves. Do you see? It is the only way.”

“It doesn’t bear thinking what might be happening to her even now….”

“It is best not to think of such things, Mistress. You are powerless at the moment, so should not dwell on the very worst.”

“You should at least remove this collar from my neck,” said Jaleesa as she touched it anxiously with her left hand. “I shouldn’t have to wear a collar now that I’m free.”

“And how would that look, Mistress, if I was to remove the collar from the neck of my slave girl? Here and now, in this café, surrounded by men who are watching you? How would I explain that?”

Jaleesa continued to touch the collar as Ghadir watched her. It was interesting the way her hand trembled as she touched the hard steel that proclaimed her to the world as a slave. Slave steel had that effect on many women, it seemed.

“We should go somewhere else then,” said Jaleesa quickly.

“There is nowhere else at this hour. Only cafés. You would prefer to wander the street? A target for thieves and kidnappers?”

“No,” said Jaleesa quietly as she squirmed. Men in the café were looking at her and making ribald gestures and comments as they viewed her breasts.

“But there must be somewhere we can get away from all these men staring at me? I am naked!”

“Of course. I had just the same thought in mind, myself. Come, We will find a more private place away from these possessive, staring eyes.”

Jaleesa rose to her feet in relief. She tried not to look at the men who crowded the floor of the café, laughing, drinking and touching slave flesh. She was annoyed when Ghadir chose to lead her through the room on the end of the leash that remained clipped to her collar.

“I do not need a leash,” she hissed.

But Ghadir seemed not to hear. In fact, he gave the leash a tug quite by accident.

“Oh!” Jaleesa almost stumbled, tipping into the lap of a drunken man as she quickly fought for balance from the leash tug. Now she stepped quickly along, not wanting the slack of the leash to tighten again. She had no idea where Ghadir was taking her, but in just a moment or two they stood outside an alcove with the sash curtain wide open.

“Where are we going?” she asked, confused.

“Why, in here, gentle Mistress. In here.” Ghadir motioned for Jaleesa to enter the silk alcove. Inside was a wide ledge converted to a makeshift couch. There were a number of soft pillows, slave rings set into the walls, with useful chains and wrist and ankle fetters. As Jaleesa tried to understand this, Ghadir closed the curtain behind them.

“This is a pleasure alcove!” she said.

“Indeed it is, Mistress.”

“Men take girls here to…”

“Indeed they do Mistress.” Ghadir picked up a short length of chain with a snap lock and, before Jaleesa realised what was happening, he snapped the clip shut over the ring on her collar.

“What are you doing?” shrieked Jaleesa as she backed away, her hands clutching the links of chain that now fastened her to the headboard of the ledge.

“I’m securing you to the bed, Mistress,” said Ghadir as he began to remove his robes.

“I don’t understand!” 

“You are my slave, Mistress. It is all quite legal. Would you care to see the slave papers I was given? I bought you, you see.”

“You are going to free me! You are going to take me home! That is why you bought me!”

“I am going to take you home, Mistress,” said Ghadir as he removed the last of his clothes. "Tomorrow morning, when the gates are open again. In the meantime we have many hours to kill. Oh…” he grinned as he saw her stumble back and fall onto the couch bed. “But of course, you don’t understand, do you?” he sighed. “You are not free any more, Mistress. You have been sold to me. You are legally a slave. I have slave papers documenting you fully, down to your finger and toe prints. You are a slave girl called Tepa. It is all very legal. The papers are possessive contracts of ownership, by which I mean, they are not made out to a single named person, but rather anyone who holds the papers owns the girl in question.”

“Please, no…”

“I will return you to your fine robes and gowns and your home tomorrow, but here is the thing, you will know that you are in fact my secret slave. Oh, you can go about your day to day life, acting as if you are free, and no one else need know the truth, but every now and then you will find one or more veminia blooms lying on your bed. Count the petals closely when you find them, because the number of petals will signify the exact hour at which you will have to present yourself at a small barn on the estate that is no longer in use. It has a hayloft and it is there that you will go and kneel, awaiting my arrival. You will wear your haik, and underneath that haik you will be naked save for the slave collar you currently wear. You will continue to wear that collar from now on under your beautiful clothes. It will amuse me to see you walking about the estate, knowing that secretly you wear my collar under your high necked gallabiyah and hijab.”

“I can’t wear a collar… I am bathed and dressed by slaves! They will see it!”

“I will assign Najina as your personal slave to attend to your needs from now on. She will bathe and dress you as you require. She already knows your secret and will help me to keep it. She will also act as my eyes and ears in your private rooms. Occasionally she may pass on instructions to you from your noble Master.”

“Instructions?” Jaleesa flushed at the thought.

“Maybe some nights I will have you sleep, not in your beautiful bed, but rather on the floor, the slave chain in your rooms locked to your collar. Najina will of course free you in the morning when she comes to bathe and dress you. We shall see.”

“I won’t! I won’t!” 

“Oh but yes, sweet Mistress, you will. You will do this and more because you will not want me sending your slave papers to a Great House that hates House Shahzad. If they received these papers your house would be ruined. All that I predicted earlier would come to pass. And so you see, you will be my secret slave at the time and places of my choosing, if you wish to save your father and mother from ruin, that is. It is that simple. Of course I understand that you are white silk, and so I shall not enter you in that way, but I will train you to use your mouth and lips to give me delicious orgasms until you will become very good at it. In fact, if you lie down on the couch now, we can begin your very first lesson. There are many hours until dawn after all.”