Dunes of Gor Chapter Forty Two (the final chapter)

Chapter Forty Two: The Verr Herders

The slave girl, Sarissa, watched her master’s verr as they ambled and grazed on the tufts of coarse grass that sprang up in patches along the stony desert floor. Like her, they were clearly marked as property, though in their case the verr did not wear steel collars and ankle bells, but rather leather tags clipped into their ears, and single bells worn around their necks. The verr mingled with the verr belonging to other men of the small village and here and there other slave girls moved about, making sure their verr didn’t stray too far. This area was communal ground, fertile enough to provide grass and shrubs for the animals to feed on. Later in the year it might be necessary to graze the verr further away, and during that time a couple of men would watch over the slaves to ensure their safety. 

Dunes of Gor Chapter Forty One

Chapter Forty One: The Taste of Freedom

It was actually the small things that Ghadir really appreciated now. Things that other free men probably took for granted: things like sipping a small cup of black wine in a café, and being able to sit cross-legged at a table. He still wasn’t used to the lack of weight where a collar had once rested on his neck. For all of his adult life it had been there, barely noticeable due to familiarity, but now that it was gone, with only a few indented marks to indicate where it had once rested against his skin, he noticed its absence. 

Dunes of Gor Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty: The Legacy Endures

Deep in the heart of the great Keep of Al-Quada-a-Dhum, the victorious warriors of House Shahzad assembled alongside the warriors recruited by the Steel Worlds. They waited with swords sheathed, forming lines either side of a long rug, solemn in the presence of an ornate curule chair, wreathed in purple and gold cloth – the seat that would now be occupied by the head of House Shahzad, as undisputed ruler of this region of the desert. 

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Daan’s face was impassive as he watched the former high ladies of the Landsraad as they were herded into the large courtyard of the Keep, encouraged by the whips and switches of Daan’s own kajirae. How eager his kajirae seemed to be, to herd the high born ladies through the iron bound gates. How distraught the ladies in turn seemed to be, now that they were stripped of their pretty footwear and fine gowns, clutching each other’s hands for moral support as they screamed to each lick of the lash on their bare skin.

Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Gates of Al-Quada-a-Dhum

“I’ve brought you some black wine, Master. I thought you could use it.” Ghadir offered the cup of the steaming black liquid to Daan Shahzad. Black wine, made from Thentian beans, resembled Earth coffee in many ways.

“Thank you, Ghadir, I appreciate it.” Daan took the goblet as he gazed over the high walls of Al-Quada-a-Dhum. Below, beyond the range of any short bows, the army of the Landsraad was setting up camp. They were now effectively an advance force, since news had broken that a Sardaukar army was marching from Tor to support them. Four legions strong, with each legion numbering five hundred men, plus one hundred auxiliaries. Two legions remained to guard the Emir and the walls of Tor. The siege of Al-Quada-a-Dhum would begin now, but the assault on its walls would be delayed until the Sardaukar arrived. Which they would, very soon. The Sardaukar marched liked demons on their kaiila, barely resting when lesser men would be forced to. 

Chloe’s Guide to Slave Paces – Part 1 : From Standing to Nadu

Greetings, kind masters, gentle mistresses, and fellow slaves. It’s Chloe here with one of my occasional training sessions. 

A while back, Shannon very kindly did a guide to basic slave positions which I know proved very popular and made a pleasant break from Emma telling you all about her latest adventure when big manly men kept touching her all the time, and all her clothes fell off. So, I’m going to hold a little class today demonstrating the most popular slave position on Gor and how to gracefully move into it. 

Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Eight: Submission

Javad Mohsen had ridden hard all through the night with his two kaiila. He had followed one of the common caravan trails, guided along the way by his knowledge of the stars overhead. His intention was to reach a water well fifty three pasangs from the walls of Al-Quada-a-Dhum and rest there for a while. Reyhan lay on her belly across the front of his saddle as he rode, her wrists fastened to a steel ring on one side of the saddle close to the stirrups and her ankles fastened to the opposite ring. The flimsy red silk had been lifted from her bottom and during the journey Javad amused himself by stroking and caressing it. The helpless wriggling had been profound after just a few ehn. Quite remarkable really. There was much mumbling through her gag as Reyhan desperately tried to form words, but Javad had no interest in anything she might have to say now. He was taking her deep into the desert as revenge for what her free companion had done to him. A mere woman was hardly full recompense for the treachery Daan Shahzad had displayed, but she would certainly make for an interesting down payment. 

Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Seven: Treachery

Reyhan was alone now in the guest chamber, and already, after just a few ehn, she was deeply regretting her wild and reckless decision to come here. She wore pleasure silk, a collar and ankle bells. She knelt, chained to a slave ring by her collar with her wrists clasped in slave bracelets. Soon, in maybe half an ahn, the Kavar raider would return to his suite of rooms, drunk, and eager to enjoy his slave girl for the night. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t go through with this. The reality was so much more terrifying than the hypothetical concept an ahn and a half ago. Back then she had felt like a brave martyr for her family, a woman who might do whatever was required to seal this military alliance. But now she felt very differently. Now she wore pleasure silk, and a woman who wore pleasure silk was left in no doubt what it might do to her body.

Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Six: Apprehension

“Inside, kajira,” snarled Javad Mohsen as he unclipped the short leash from Reyhan’s collar. She stumbled slightly, for her wrists were braceleted behind the small of her back. She looked round at him, alarmed, for the reality of this was far more frightening than the mere possibility earlier when they had discussed the matter high up on the terrace, beside the ornate balustrade.

“My wrists,” she said, turning slightly. She stood in the threshold of Hassan’s private guest suite of rooms within the Keep. Very soon he would return from the strategical planning with Daan. He would expect to find a curvaceous slut chained to the slave ring on the floor.

Javad wound the leash back into a coil and tucked it in his belt. “I should whip you,” he said, angrily.

Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Five: The Dancer

“The spiced verr is excellent,” said Hassan of the Kavar as he sat cross legged in the great hall of Al-Quada-a-Dhum and helped himself to some more from an engraved bowl set on a rug before him. “Would you perhaps consider selling the slave who cooked this meal?” 

Like Hassan, Daan Shahzad sat on the one of the rugs scattered around the hall in the Bedouin manner, and close beside him knelt his woman, Reyhan. Reyhan wore modest veils and hoods and nervously regarded Hassan from time to time. She had deliberately spoken very little during the meal, and felt sure that Hassan could not possibly recognise her from that day out in the desert when he had commanded her to strip, and he had assessed her body with his hands. 

Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Four: The Free Companions

“Hmm.” Daan Shahzad gazed down at the half revealed body, still partially covered in a rug of fine textile weave, though now hideously soaked in blood. “Do you have a good reason for cutting the throat of our metal worker locksmith and hiding his body under a rug?”

“Yes, I do, beloved,” said Reyhan as she stood beside one of the windows, nursing a goblet of ka-la-na to calm her nerves.

“Excellent. I would hate the death of a talented artisan to have been a waste, otherwise.” Daan said nothing more, except to cross the floor of the room, pass into the outer chamber, open the door into the corridor beyond and then call two of his men inside. He took them back through to the personal reception room of his companion and indicated the body.

Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three: The Desert Serpent

“Secure the women! Secure the women!” screamed the kaiila rider as he swept past Laleh Sasani’s kurdah, his scimitar hand thrust high above his head. 

They called it the desert serpent – the long coiling line of march that travelled through the Hamada region of the desert. The combined Landsraad army was over 3,300 lances strong, each mounted on its own kaiila. Travelling with that military force was a baggage train of five times that number of pack kaiila, and a further 250 male work slaves who trudged on foot, and 300 kajirae, transported in kurdahs. It was in part a logistical nightmare, if only because the column consisted of the personal household warriors of virtually all the Landsraad, each with its own captains and command structures. Although nominally under the overall command of Hashim Sasani, the various House factions often disputed who should ride in which position in the snaking column. It travelled slowly, taking perhaps twice as long as a smaller troop of kaiila might take. And within the first two days of travel it came under attack by raiders. It became clear that the raiders were Kavars, pursuing hit and run tactics. 

Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Two: La Kajira

Reyhan stared, but said nothing. Her face was unveiled in her own rooms, but her expression registered shock and remained indecipherable.

“Mother…” Tupa held out the palms of her hands before realising that was what slaves did. She pulled her wrists back, but it felt strange to do so. She was a slave. It was natural for her to hold out the palms of her hands. She swallowed a lump in her throat and moved forward a step, the bells fastened to her body jingling as she did so. She felt the soft touch of the gossamer slave silks against her skin. Her body seemed to scream at her that she was a slave. 

And still Reyhan said and did nothing. She stared at Tupa, giving nothing away.