Companions of Gor: Chapter Three

 

 

The estate was impressive, and, like many of the properties surrounding Vonda, was essentially a self-sufficient and fortified farmstead or, in this case, country house with landscaped gardens, set in the centre of hundreds of acres of land on which crops were grown, animals were pastured and most importantly, vines were cultivated. The wines of the Vonda region are quite remarkable, and a personal favourite of mine. 

 

We rode on down through the vineyards belonging to my Lady, observing men and women tending to the vines under the watchful eye of overseers with whips. To the right I could see a river which was the source of the irrigation for the fields. The main building up ahead was essentially a large open rectangle, with porticos enclosing gardens entered through another portico, but decades of expansion had resulted in adjoining buildings with independent courtyards. These were then organically linked by their own porticos or extended as a colonnade, with a roof structure over a walkway, supported by columns or enclosed by walls. 

 

What was most eye catching was the design of the gardens surrounding the houses, all very formal in design, with symmetrical, geometric beds and garden ‘rooms’ delineated by hedges and walls. Plants here were less important for their colour value than for their design elements, such as for clipped topiary. I saw few flowers in evidence but the use of running and standing water, and various elements of statuary, private spaces and a promenade or formal pathway were common place.

 

There was a pleasing sense of symmetry to this sculpted Gorean garden surrounding the villa. I saw beds, or parterres, shaped geometrically in squares, rectangles or triangles, eschewing the curves and sweeps common to English borders on Earth. Because many villas surrounding Vonda are on hillsides, they are laid out on several levels, or formed as terraces, offering places to stand and enjoy the surrounding view as well as see the gardens from above. Order and balance are the design goals, illustrating man’s power over nature.

 

We rode on up a promenade, a feature consisting of a wide, raised, pathway flanked by formally clipped hedges where a Gorean family or their visitors may stroll to view the gardens on either side. Its aesthetic purpose is both for seeing and being seen, and it provides a stage from which the owner can survey his holdings. Hardscape - stone walkways, patios and walls - were a signature element of Cassandra’s landscape, rather than simple but expansive lawns.

 

And there were fabulous features on offer. We rode past a hideaway in the garden to the left that I supposed might contain a vine-draped pergola or just a tucked-away bench,  providing an intimate getaway space for star crossed lovers. Elsewhere I saw a grotto - an artificial cave filled with sculpture and furnishings where one could sip wine in a refreshingly cool space.

 

And all around me I heard the pleasant sound and the cooling effects of water, ranging from bubbling fountains, pools and cascades to a series of ornate stone fountains shooting arcs of water high into the air. 

 

Cassandra’s garden was considered an extension of the entertainment area of her home, and so it was decorated in the same manner, with plenty of art. Sculptures of gods, goddesses and heroes of ancient legends were common, often with a martial theme, reflecting her associated caste. Lemon trees, potted in stone urns, provided decoration for the patio and seating areas.

 

Where there were ordinary plants, they were mainly evergreens, manicured into geometric hedges or topiaries. I could identify Gorean cypress, boxwoods and junipers, used to form living walls and delineate different parts of the garden. Other green plants were massed within the borders of the geometric beds, and of course also arranged to cover stone walls with trellised foliage vines or climbing roses.

 

And all this was now mine, for a year at least. 

 

“An impressive sight, Sir,” remarked Ramon as he reined in beside me. “I felt the same, the first time I came here.”

 

I sensed Anya stop three feet away from my left stirrup. Her feet were dusty, but the walk hadn’t tired her. Like me, she too gazed at her new home in approval. 

 

“Come here,” I said to the former Ms. Evangeline Katrina Laswick, reaching down for her hand and pulling her up onto my saddle where I placed her in front of me. She felt warm and snug as she nestled beside me. 

 

“Master,” she said as she felt my hands about her waist. “That feels so good. I love your hands when they are upon me”

 

“You like my touch?” I asked. Leaning my chin on her shoulder and brushing her hair with my nose.

 

“Yes. It feels right. Touch my brand, please, Master. Remind me I am yours. Remind me I am a slave.”

I did so, and was rewarded by a little squirm from the girl. 

 

“I thought you didn’t like being a slave?” I said.

 

“That was when I scrubbed pots at an Inn. You have awakened a need in me, Master.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“A need for a strong Master who will dominate and own me completely. I dreamed of this on Earth. To be owned and mastered. It was a fantasy of mine, but one I didn’t dare speak of. I think it is more common amongst my sex than anyone might admit.”

 

“You would hardy have deigned to speak to me back in Toronto,” I said. “Let alone allow me to own you.”

 

“That is true, Master,” she laughed. “I would have been a brat.”

 

“And now you wear a collar.”

“Your collar.” She sighed. “You will not regret collaring me. I will be sensational tonight. Sensational!”

 

“You think I am going to put you to use tonight?” I said with a laugh as I ran my hands down her thighs Her skin felt warm from the bright sunshine. 

 

“Aren’t you?” She fidgeted, obviously having assumed I’d ravish her first chance I had. 

 

“I’m meeting with my Lady. It might not be polite to use you tonight, on the first night of coming here. The Lady Cassandra will expect me to share her bed.”

 

“You think?” Anya turned her head and kissed me softly. “You don’t know free women, Master. She has no intention of sharing your bed tonight, or any night whatsoever for the next few days at least. She will be angry with you still and will want to leave you begging for her slightest touch. She will be a bitch to you.” 

 

I had spoken to Anya during our travel here, and she was aware of the argument that had occurred when I had spoken to one of our slaves, and how Cassandra had stormed out of the town house and ridden hard to reach her villa to spend some time away from me, it seems. 

 

“She’s my woman.”

 

“I’m your woman, Master. She is your companion. There is a difference. How you respond to her after this first display of temper will define your relationship going forward. You must not permit her to treat you like this. You must be firm with her.”

 

“Interesting,” I said. “Firm, like I am with you?”

 

“Oh, firmer than that, Master.” She laughed again. “A man must wield even more discipline with a free woman who is his companion. A slave has already been taught to obey. It is easy to train us. This Lady of yours has yet to learn or understand that. You must train her, as I was trained in the slave pens of Rarn. You have to teach her the boundaries of her freedom now. The laws of companionship support the man. Have you taught her to heel you yet?”

 

“Heel me?” I seemed surprised by the thought. My mind drifted to an image of the proud Cassandra Assante, obediently heeling me in public. 

 

“Yes, Master. It would do her good to heel you when you walk together. Set her a strict pace and a position by your side, to your left, slightly behind you. She should be careful never to walk ahead of you, and to hold her head demurely and not make eye contact with men as she walks beside you. If she looks at a man, chide her for it. She is no longer available. She must remember that.”

 

“Interesting,” I said again. “And the effect this has on a free woman?”

 

“Oh, it reminds her that she is contractually your property for the year. It is the first step, Master, to instruct her that she is no longer an independent woman.”

 

“I think I made the right decision in buying you, Anya.”

“You certainly did, Master.” And then she kissed me again, deeply and intimately. 

 

My mind was racing with all the possibilities as we rode the final distance to the main house. Anya was opening my mind to the idea that I could, and perhaps should, be more dominant with Cassandra. This was Gor, and the Gorean way, after all. This wasn’t Earth, where a woman could simply throw a fit and sulk for days and weeks, expecting the man to make significant overtures to improve her mood. She was my woman now, contractually so, under Gorean law. I had rights over her. Even switch rights. I had never really considered such things, but it was true that Cassandra had an obligation to defer to her companion. Maybe she didn’t think such things applied to her, but Anya had reminded me that legally they did. 

 

I dismounted from my tharlarion and watched as some stable hands led the beast away. Ramon and Oban stood attentively as I swept my gaze across the grounds of sculpted gardens, admiring the ornate fountains and trellis works that had been painstakingly built. This was all mine. For a year at the very least.

 

That was the frustrating side to Gorean courtship, of course. On Gor there is no ‘until death do us apart’, rather an annual renewal of conjugal rights. Perhaps this is an aspect of the Gorean longevity, where men and women can live for hundreds of years, and so it seems unrealistic to imagine that a relationship can continue for such a long period of time. I don’t know. The truth is, Cassandra and I would have to renew our vows of companionship in just under eleven months. If we didn’t, I would no longer have any claim to her or this magnificent estate. 

 

It was a sobering thought, for Cassandra was very wealthy indeed. 

 

Not that it was her money anyway. It had been a bequest of Brinn, her brother, after the Priest Kings had rewarded him with more money than he could ever dream to spend. She had come into money, just as I had now come into her money. It would be a shame of course to risk losing it in eleven months’ time. 

 

I walked past an ornate pergola and through a vine covered archway and up a series of sun warmed marble steps onto a wide veranda overlooking a series of vineyards, where I found my Lady seated at a table, entertaining two free women. They sat in the shade of another trellis affair, dipping their fingers at trays of exquisite tapas dishes and drinking what I guessed must be local wine from crystal decanters and fluted glasses. As I appeared, with my men close behind, the women looked up in surprise.

 

Being free women, Cassandra’s friends quickly raised veils about their lower faces. I admired that. I respected that. I had hardly caught the merest glimpse of their features, of their soft lips, before they concealed themselves from view. A fine reaction, and one that demanded respect.

 

The Gorean free woman is a splendid creature, a million miles apart from a slave girl. There really is no comparison, except and unless the free woman in question is secretly and always has been a natural slave. That is an affront to nature of course, but Gorean men are quick to rectify such mistakes. 

 

My Lady of course did not raise her own hand to her lowered veils. There was no need, for she was in her home, her men knew her features, and I was her companion. She wore lovely gowns of ruffled peach silk. 

 

“Simon,” she said. It was just a word, with no trace of welcome, simply recognition. Her head moved an inch or so in a gentle incline as she regarded me. If she was surprised I had come, she didn’t show it. Immediately I recalled Anya’s words to me on the way here:

 

“There is something you need to consider, Master.”

“Oh?” I had gazed down at her as she walked beside my stirrup.

“When you arrive at the villa, unannounced, your Lady will sense she has scored a slight victory over you. She will think she has won; that her petulant display of anger at your behaviour, and her refusal to tolerate it, has sent you scampering in panic to rejoin her. She will think you have come with your tail between your legs, in a state of apology. You must not let her win that victory, Master. You need to tighten the leash at once. It is an important moment. Your first argument. The first time your Lady has chosen to test the limits of her independence and probe you for weakness. She is challenging your natural authority. You must not let the leash go slack.”

 

“You suggest a confrontation?”

 

“I do!” She smiled, happily. “She is a woman, Master. I do not know her, but I know my sex. Be calm, but forceful. Make it clear that nothing has changed. Make it clear that she will not win this. You are the man. She must respect and support you in all things now.”

 

“I think you will prove to be a very good investment, Anya,” I had said in reply.   

 

“Cassandra,” I said to my companion now, as I walked up the series of marble steps. 

 

“Why are you here, Simon?” As Cassandra spoke, her two friends watched curiously, sensing the irritation in her voice and an impending confrontation. No doubt she had spoken about me at length. No doubt they hadn’t expected me to suddenly appear at the villa. I had no idea who they were, but then I hadn’t yet met any of Cassandra’s close circle of female friends. 

 

“I decided to see our villa, beloved,” I said as I surveyed the view. It really was breath-taking in its scale. 

 

“I told you I wanted some time alone. You upset me.” Her eyes flickered, momentarily, from me and then to the sight of Anya, walking behind me, to my side. Anya’s head was lowered, but it was clear from her collar and brief attire, that she was a kajira. “What is that?” Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. 

 

“This is Anya. She’s a kajira.”

 

“I can see that, but what is she doing here?”

 

“I bought her at an Inn on the way to this villa.” 

 

Cassandra’s eyes flashed angrily as she glared at the girl, who, it must be said, had the good sense to look down at the ground. “We have slaves! We have plenty of slaves! We do not need another one! You should have consulted me first!”

 

“I thought otherwise. I see we have some charming guests,” I said, to change the subject. “Gracious Ladies,” I added, dipping my head in a welcoming bow.

 

“These are my friends: The Ladies Afsana and Oriana of Vonda. Ladies, this is Simon, my free companion. A man who chooses to insult me in my own home by dragging some half naked slut into my garden.”

 

“I welcome you Ladies to the House of Assante,” I said, surprising Cassandra with that declaration, and sweeping aside her outburst. “Our home is your home, gracious Ladies, for you honour us with your presence.” I added a smile as I regarded the two women. “Any friend of my beloved companion has my oath of protection.”

 

“You are as gallant as you are handsome, Sir,” said the Lady Afsana. Beside her, the Lady Oriana gazed at me with eyes that indicated she probably agreed with her friend. I am, as it happens, rather strong and now that I have grown my hair long, quite handsome. 

 

“You are kind, Lady, and I am sure that beneath those veils, you too shine like a jewel in the night sky.”

 

The woman seemed flattered by this and they both giggled together a little, like co-conspirators, while Cassandra continued to frown. 

 

“We shall talk at length, beloved, later tonight, when our guests are in bed, or have left us.”

 

Cassandra rose as I traded polite conversation, and without my bidding she stalked over to where Anya stood to my left. “Get this slut out of my sight. Chain her in the stables. We shall sell her in the morning.”

 

“We shall not,” I said, pleasantly, with a sideways smile towards the Ladies, who seemed surprised and amused in equal measures that I was contradicting Cassandra. “She is my personal slave, and she will serve me at times of my choosing.”

 

“I will not have this slut in my home!” snarled Cassandra. Her hand moved to the switch she kept on a clip on her belt. With a flourish, she drew the switch and paced towards Anya who now looked genuinely terrified. “Whipping position!” she snarled.

 

“No.” I said. I reached out, seized Cassandra’s wrist and simply removed the switch from her hand. It was very easy to do. Surprisingly easy, and just a little arousing as I dominated my beloved. For a moment she looked shell shocked. No one had ever prevented her from disciplining a slave before. 

 

“You dare!”

 

“Do not cause a scene, Cassandra. Do not be tiresome. The girl has done nothing wrong.” I threw the switch away, to one side where it slid along the flagstone floor. 

 

Cassandra pulled her arm, angrily, but I held it firm. “Let go of me!”

 

I responded by pulling my companion towards me, rather abruptly. “If you are going to embarrass me in front of our charming guests, I will send you to your chambers until you calm down. Do not humiliate yourself further.”

 

“Are you insane?!”

 

“Very well, then. Go to your chambers, and remain there until I join you tonight. You are not to leave the rooms under any circumstances.”

 

“I said, LET GO OF ME!” Cassandra swept her nails at my face, but I caught her wrists quite easily and pulled her arms down. 

 

“Ramon, Oban, conduct the Lady to her chambers and see that she remains there,” I said, mimicking the tone of authority I had always heard Brinn use. For a moment the men, who after all, were Cassandra’s men, stood there, dumbstruck, not knowing how to respond. “Is there a problem?” I added, turning my head to regard them. “You understand this woman is my free companion? You understand that legally I am the master of her house? You understand I now speak for her?”

 

What I said was true, and Gorean men are conditioned to respond to such things. This is the way of Gor. Cassandra was now my woman, and that meant I had the final say, even if I was new to the estate. The men may not have expected this, they may not have any idea how to deal with this, but society had conditioned them to accept this state of affairs. 

 

“Ramon!” cried Cassandra. “Help me!”

 

“Lady…” Ramon was clearly uncomfortable with this situation. “This is very awkward for us. He is your free companion…”

 

“It would probably be best if you did go to your chambers, Lady,” added Oban, equally uncomfortable with the way things were playing out. “I am sorry, Lady.”

 

“I will not!” Cassandra struggled furiously, but I had passed the first test, that her men would not dare counter my orders, now that I had proclaimed myself the dominant male, with the law on my side, and they stood there as I held Cassandra firmly in hand. Her two friends were in a mild state of shock as they saw Cassandra being ordered to her bed chamber like a naughty girl. 

 

Eventually Cassandra realised her struggles were pointless and she ceased them. “Simon, please, this is…”

 

“To your rooms, Cassandra. You have caused a scene. Remain there until I come to you tonight.” My voice was stern. I motioned for the men to approach her, which they did with obvious reluctance. They were used to obeying her in all things and hadn’t expected this confrontation.

 

“Please, Lady,” said Ramon. “We do not want to distress you in any way, but your free companion has…”

 

“Very well!” She stamped her foot and stepped back to adjust her garments that had become loose from a clasp or two in the embarrassing struggle with me. The garments of free women are delicate in their multiple fastenings, and are easily disturbed. A woman should not act wildly while wearing such fine clothes. I brushed her hair back where a couple of pins had come loose. “There is no need to touch me!” she said as Oban reached out a hand to steady her. 

 

“Of course. I am sorry, lady,” said Oban, quickly withdrawing his hand. 

 

“I am going to my rooms!” she snapped suddenly, as if it was her decision to make, and she had just made it unprompted.

 

“Thank you, Lady,” said Ramon, courteously. 

 

She stood there for a moment, taking this all in. She gazed at me, and Is aid nothing. She gazed at her friends who looked away from her in politeness. She gazed up at the villa where presumably her bedrooms lay. There were small windows for a woman to peer out of, but small enough that a man could not steal through them and abduct her at night. She glared at Anya again, as the girl continued to gaze at her feet. And then, trying hard to retain some dignity from being effectively banished to her bedroom in front of her close friends, Cassandra permitted the men to escort her honourably inside, as she held her head high.

 

“I am sorry about this, ladies, but as you can see…” I said as I sat down at the low table in the shade. 

 

“She has only herself to blame,” said a delighted sounding Oriana. 

 

“Indeed,” added Lady Afsana as she leaned forward just a little towards me, her right hand absently playing with a stray lock of hair that tumbled down about her throat. “You handled dear Cassie delightfully!”

 

I smiled. It seems that the Ladies were rivals of my woman, as well as friends. Free women are often rivals, even though the pretence is otherwise. I had never heard anyone call my beloved ‘Cassie’ before. I suspected they only spoke of her like that in private.  

 

“You think so?” I said as I poured myself some wine. “She is dear to me, of course.”

 

“It was so funny,” said Oriana with a giggle. “The look on her face!” Both women giggled together again. 

 

“Oh! I am GOING to my rooms NOW!” said Afsana, mimicking Cassandra’s parting words in a comical voice of outrage. 

 

“Are you going to keep her there all evening?” asked Oriana with a sense of excitement to her voice. “Are you?”

 

“Perhaps I should. What do you think, Ladies? You know Cassandra better than I, and you seem very wise women.”

 

“Little Cassie will be fuming,” said Afsana with a giggle. “I can imagine her pacing about her rooms now in frustration! Oh! Imagine that! Sent to her room and told to stay there! You are very bold, Sir. I admire that in a man.”

 

“Thank you, Lady Afsana. I felt it was the right thing to do. She was making a scene.” My eyes were suddenly fixated by the brief glimpse of Lady Afsana’s left wrist as she raised her glass, and her long, floppy sleeve slid back just a little. She seemed not to notice and I was entranced by that little glimpse of skin, the way Goreans are. It was breath-taking and highly erotic on a free woman. “I assume you are both free companioned?” I smiled courteously. “I can’t imagine two ladies as graceful and delightful as yourselves would not be. Men would surely be throwing themselves at your feet!”

 

The ladies giggled again, delighted by this compliment.  

 

“Sadly, we are not!” cried Lady Afsana. 

 

“I find that hard to believe! Are the men of Vonda so crass and stupid?”

 

“So many men think only of their slaves,” cried Lady Oriana, in annoyance. “They do not have eyes for free women of good breeding.”

 

“Slaves? But they are a passing diversion, at best, of little consequence,” I declared. “Only in the tender loving arms of a free woman can a man find true happiness.”

 

Again, the Ladies seemed very delighted by my words. I felt sure I was making a good impression on them. 

 

“You are such a fine catch!” declared Afsana. “Dear little Cassie hardly deserves you.”

 

I whiled away the evening in the company of these ladies, playfully flirting with them as they permitted such things. I encouraged them to drink freely, and by the evening I had brushed my fingers several times against their gowns and hands, playfully, in sport. I felt sure they were aroused by my presence, having not had a man in probably a long time, if ever. But I was a host, and they were guests, and so I took it no further. 

 

Except, in passing, I remarked that the sculpted gardens looked lovely in the soft moonlight, and when Lady Afsana expressed a keen interest, I offered to explore them with her. At first he was alarmed by the thought, but then with a soft laugh, agreed, spurred on by the many glasses of wine she had drunk. I think there was a look of disappointment in Oriana’s eyes as I escorted her friend down the steps to the dark garden below. 

 

I confess that ten ehn later, we were kissing softly in a cloistered space away from prying eyes. Lady Afsana’s veil was now loose from her face, where I had pulled it free rather roughly, and she was making soft sounds of excitement as I kissed her tenderly, touching her hips lightly trough the layers of soft cloth she wore.

 

“Oh, Simon,” she breathed, her lips wet from my touch. 

 

“What magic powers do you possess, Lady Afsana, that you have enchanted me in such a short time?” I had thought of those words in advance as we had walked through the gardens together. They were very good. 

 

“We must not speak of this elsewhere, Simon!” She clutched me with her small hands and gazed up at my face. “You understand that? It must be our secret!”

 

“Of course! Your dignity for a start.” I brushed back her hair, loosening it from the multitude of pins. She was really quite beautiful, though not nearly as beautiful as Anya. “Your reputation…”

 

“Yes, my reputation! No one must know!” She nodded furiously and then whimpered with need as I touched her breasts through the layers of silken gowns. 

 

“Oh! Such audacity! You are a beast!” she said, but happily, with a smile. 

 

“You will visit often, yes? I must see more of you…”

 

“Oh yes, Simon! Of course! I will visit often!”

 

“Next week?” I suggested. “I am sure I could contrive to send Cassie to her rooms on the night you visit.”

 

Lady Afsana giggled and squirmed in a rather undignified manner against me. “Oh yes, send Cassie to her rooms when I visit. I would like that! I want you to myself, dear Simon. She doesn’t deserve you.”

 

“Had I only known of you before I met her…” I said in a suggestive manner. I was rather enjoying this. I had no idea that it was possible to seduce free women once you had a companion of your own, but if anything it made things so much simpler. It gave you an excuse to meet free women, and your companionship made you more desirable in their eyes, especially if it meant they could steal you from a rival. 

 

“Hush! You will make me giddy with such words! You cannot mean it!” she said, hoping beyond hope that I did mean it.

 

“All I can say is you have bewitched me, Afsana. Such sorcery you must possess.”

 

“It is the sorcery of my sex, darling Simon. And yes, I shall weave a spell to catch your heart!” Her eyes suddenly widened in surprise as I gently touched her ass with my hand. “Oh!” It was such a delightful squeak. “Not so soon, dearest! Not so soon!” But I could feel her ass wiggle to my touch. It was a good sign.

 

I began to ponder the possibilities of developing a secret harem of desperate free women of fine pedigree and standing within Vonda. Perhaps a clandestine town house could be purchased in the city itself for secret liaisons with those women. I felt myself growing hard with the thought of the possibilities, and that triggered another cry from Afsana as she felt the lump at my loins press against her pretty dress.

 

“Oh Simon, you are so bad! So very wicked! Do I do that to you with my kisses?” She seemed exhilarated, knowing she could arouse me so easily. 

 

“I beg your pardon, Lady, it is rude of me.” I moved so that my erection didn’t press against her. 

 

“We have been gone so long! Oriana must be growing suspicious! And yet your kisses are so hard to resist!” The Lady moved her mouth up towards me once again, desperate for another kiss, but I decided to ration them now and leave her wanting. 

 

“You should perhaps return. Tongues will wag otherwise. But contrive a reason to return again next week.”

 

Anya was waiting for me in the shadows of the garden as a flustered Lady Afsana hurried away on soft, slippered feet. Anya had observed the affair from a discrete vantage point and ran into my arms as soon as the Lady was gone.

 

“That was splendid, Master.” She embraced me in a way that a free woman could never do. We were hungry for one another as we kissed in the soft moonlight, my hands roaming around Anya’s body, slipping under the hem of that short tunic. In a perfect world, the mini-skirt garments would be obligatory for any attractive woman, whether slave or free. The skirt is just long enough to shroud the slave’s sex, but short enough that a hand can reach up under it with ease. 

 

“You were right, kajira.”

 

“I’m always right, Master.” She pressed herself to me, gazing up with a simmering need. “You can have all the free women you want now that you have a free companion. It gives you access to women who wouldn’t otherwise be permitted to speak to you. And what did I tell you?”

 

I smiled, remembering Anya’s words on the way here: ‘Let her drink. Wine turns every woman into an aroused slave.’ 

 

“It is amusing, but free women can’t satisfy me the way you do.”

 

“Of course, Master. But I’m here whenever you need me. Whenever you… want me.” Her hands travelled to the stiff bulge that was my penis. “Have me now, Master. Enter me, here, in the darkness, on the grass, and fuck me long enough to enjoy it, but not so long that you will come. You must save yourself for your…” she laughed softly, “your delightful companion and the miserable display of sex she will provide.”

 

“A dried up morsel of bread compared to the feast that is a kajira,” I said as I tipped Anya onto her back in front of a bush.

 

“Of course! And we would have it no other way.” She took hold of me and guided me into her. I gasped with pleasure as she took me deep inside her sex, and placed her hands on my ass as I rode deeper still. “Steady thrusts, Master, for we must be quiet. There are foolish free women close by. Let them chatter in peace about shoes and shawls, while we take our pleasure here in secret.”

 

I would have carried on beyond the point of no return, but Anya judged my reactions perfectly and placed a finger to my mouth when I got too close to coming. 

 

“Not a thrust more, I think, Master.” She was breathing hard from arousal and I could tell she didn’t want me to stop. 

 

“A little… longer…” I gasped.

 

“A little longer and you will be spoilt for her. Tonight is your night. Tomorrow you can let her stew in her juices for a week or so, and devote yourself fully to your slave, but tonight you teach Cassandra to be a woman.” 

 

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Not surprisingly, I found Cassandra pacing about her bed chamber in a simmering rage when I entered. “You embarrassed me in front of my friends!” she cried, fists clenched. “And why is that thing in my bed chamber!”

 

The ‘thing’ she referred to was of course the lovely Anya, who had knelt discretely as soon as she had entered the room behind me. 

 

“She is just a kajira. Pay her no attention,” I said.

 

“Get out!” she screamed at Anya, making the girl flinch in terror, but Anya remained on her knees, for I had told her to disregard any such command. “I said GET OUT!”

 

“I have told Anya to remain here until I say otherwise. Now, lower your voice, Cassandra. I do not like women screaming at me.”

 

“If you leave that slut alone with me I’ll cut her throat open!” cried Cassandra as she drew a sharp knife from a sheath at her belt. In her current rage, I didn’t doubt that she meant it. 

 

“Put your knife away immediately.” I would obviously have to consider whether I should allow Cassandra to carry a knife on the grounds of our home. I saw no need for it. She had men to protect her, after all. 

 

I waited and then with a hiss of anger, Cassandra slid the blade back into its sheath. When she then strode purposefully towards Anya, I stepped into her path and took hold of her wrist.

 

“Let go!” She shook my arm, but again, as before, couldn’t free herself from my firm grip. 

 

“Not until you calm down. I paid good money for Anya. I don’t want you to disfigure or cripple her.”

 

“I have every right!” She hissed past my shoulder at the kajira.

 

“If she does something wrong, you come to me and I will of course punish her. I will not permit any insolence or disrespect from a kajira towards my free companion. That is how it will be. But I don’t trust you to act rationally around her if I leave punishments to your discretion.”

 

“Are you insane? You’re telling me I have to go to you and ask, if I want to punish a kajira!” She shook her wrist again, but I refused to release it. 

 

“Just this kajira. Do as you wish with the others.”

 

“Have you slept with the slutty bitch?” she hissed. “Have you?”

 

“And if I have?”

 

“I’ll claw her eyes out with my nails! I don’t need my knife!”

 

“She is just a slave girl! She doesn’t matter, Cassandra. Men use slaves even when they are free companioned. Every man does.”

 

“My free companion does not!” screamed Cassandra. “I will NOT be second in my own bed chamber to some SLUT with fat ankles! I want her out of here! NOW!”

 

I let Cassandra pull free and watched as she ran lightly across the room to a table on the other side of the room, where she picked up a weighty object and threw it hard at Anya. The girl was quick enough to duck and the object struck the far wall. “Bitch! Slut!” screamed my companion. “How dare you open your stinking wet thighs to my man!” She picked up some more objects and threw them too, but Anya was on her feet now and running in fear away from the missiles to save herself from injury. Luckily, in her anger, Cassandra had a particularly poor aim. 

 

I had to put a stop to this. In an instant I was on top of Cassandra and in another instant I had her lying, stomach down, on the bed, struggling like some hell cat. I pulled her wrists back and tied them together with binding fibre while she screamed abuse at me. 

 

On the safe side I also drew the knife from her belt sheath and told Anya to hide it somewhere in another room. I had decided that Cassandra would not be permitted to carry a knife any longer. 

 

“Guards!” screamed Cassandra. “Guards!”

 

“There are no guards outside your door, beloved. I gave them the night off. I am here to protect my woman.” 

 

“Guards!” she continued to scream as she writhed, securely bound, on her stomach. Anya had earlier suggested that if this happened, I was to allow Cassandra to tire herself out. She could scream as much a she liked. I had told the men to disregard any such sounds while I was in the rooms. And sure enough Anya’s advice was good once again, as after another five ehn of increasingly hoarse screaming, Cassandra’s futile rage began to subside. She lay there now, still on her belly, the complicated hooks and clasps of her rich gowns in some disarray, her hair damp from the exertion, fuming silently at us both. With a huff, she blew some long strands of loose hair away from her nose.

 

“Are you quite finished?” I asked.

 

“Yes,” she said, in a low voice. She gazed up at me with something akin to defeat in her eyes. Anya also told me that women eventually become docile when they are tied up. The brain reacts submissively after a while, releasing a calming agent through their body.

 

“Good.” I sat down now on the bed, beside her and stroked her bottom through the silk gown. “Take some deep breaths and relax.”

 

“I hate you!” she snarled, as she kicked up with her ankles.

 

“No you don’t. I suspect you actually find this a little bit arousing, don’t you?”

 

Cassandra’s reply was to suddenly start struggling again and cursing me some more. I let her do so for I was in no hurry. And also, I think it amused Anya to see her mistress like this. 

 

“Do you want to sleep like this, tonight? With your hands tied behind your back?”

 

“No,” she said, sullenly. She ceased struggling and settled back down into a reasonable state.

 

“It would be very uncomfortable, wouldn’t it, Cassandra?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you prepared now to be a little more gracious and demure? Have you learned your lesson?”

 

“Yes,” she said, eyes cast down. I united her and watched as she sat up and rubbed her sore wrists, for the knots had been tight. 

 

“When you misbehave in public, I will send you to your rooms,” I explained. “When you misbehave in private, I will tie and place you on your stomach. Are we clear?”

 

“Yes, Simon,” she said, quietly. 

 

“We don’t want that, do we?”

 

“No, Simon.” She looked anywhere but at Anya who knelt on the floor again, looking about as happy as it was possible for a kajira to look in the presence of a free woman. 

 

“Now we shall talk. You are my woman in companionship. I love and cherish you. I have taken vows to protect you. But you are no longer the headstrong and independent woman you were before those vows. You are no longer the head of your own household.”

 

Cassandra stiffened as I said that. She glanced about the room, knowing that legally at least, that was true. “Where is my knife?”

 

“You don’t have a knife any more. You might hurt someone with it.”

 

“You brought a slave into my bed chamber!” she sniffed. “You want to couple with her! How could you insult me like this!” she wailed.

 

“I want to couple with you, beloved. Anya is nothing. She is here as kajirae often are, as a convenience, nothing more. I will lie here with you tonight and I will make love to my companion.”

 

“I’m not in the mood,” said Cassandra, her voice still hoarse from screaming at me earlier. 

 

“I will put you in the mood.”

 

“I don’t want you to put me in the mood! I’m tired. I want to sleep. And I want THAT SLUT to leave!”

 

Anya gazed at me but I shook my head. 

 

“Take another deep breath. And another one.” I stroked the hair of my woman, gently. “I know this is a shock. Every free woman goes through this when she becomes accustomed to companionship. This is the reality of it. I will make love to you tonight, whether you are in the mood or not. It will be pleasurable for both of us.”

 

“Please, no, Simon. Not tonight.”

 

I sighed. This too was an important milestone. Cassandra had to understand that now that she was my companion she had no right to refuse me sex. “Stand up, and undress.”

 

She began to cry, which was a new tactic she hadn’t used before. I didn’t believe for one moment the tears were genuine. It was just a ploy to win me over. I let her cry for several ehn before she sniffed back the remaining tears and looked back up at me curiously to see if they had had any effect whatsoever.

 

“That isn’t going to work,” I said. I was, actually, being very patient and considerate with her, under the circumstances. “You are in my bedroom. You are my companion. Now, undress yourself.”

 

Cassandra rose and fumbled with the complicated clasps and fastenings at the back of her dress. She could not of course easily undo them unassisted. It is one of the vain peculiarities of free women that they deliberately wear a complex array of garments that are designed so that the woman in question cannot reach the clasps on her own. This seems to say to her peers and rivals, ‘look at me, I am so wealthy that it is impossible for me to dress or undress myself without servants or slaves in attendance. See how rich I am.’ Poor women of course wear simple garments that they can slip on and off with ease. And by wearing such garments everyone knows they are poor.

 

“I need one of my slaves!” cried Cassandra as the fastenings defeated her stumbling fingers. Ordinarily Brianna, her first girl, would be with her in the evenings to assist in the complicated disrobing. I could of course simply draw a knife and cut the garments from her body, but I didn’t think that was appropriate in the handling of a free woman.

 

“We have a slave here. Anya, help the Lady disrobe.”

 

“Not her!” sobbed Cassandra. “I don’t want to be touched by your filthy little slut!”

 

“Then undress without her help, but my patience wears thin, Cassandra. Undress, you will.”

 

I saw her fumble again and burst into fresh tears as she couldn’t remove her gowns. The peach silk looked lovely, though it was a bit dishevelled by now from all the playful wrestling and struggling we had done together. 

 

Defeated by her garments, Cassandra finally turned her back to Anya, permitting the girl to approach.

 

She seemed to flinch as Anya set about slowly and carefully undoing the tiny delicate ribbons that secured each clasp and hook. Each ribbon was tied just perfectly and required a degree of concentration to unravel. 

 

One by one, Anya loosened and peeled away Cassandra’s garments with an ease that surprised me. Perhaps this had formed part of her training in the city of Rarn. Even Cassandra would surely have to admit that Anya did well as a personal body maid. 

 

“Mistress is very pretty,” said Anya as she brushed loose Cassandra’s long hair. “Very pretty, indeed.”

 

“Be quiet, you filthy little slut!”

 

Yes, I had made the right decision that Cassandra would no longer be permitted a knife. 

 

Soon enough Cassandra stood there in just her inner most layer – the shapeless slip of brushed cotton that fell to her upper calves, obscuring all the natural curves of her body. 

 

“Completely,” I said. “I want to enjoy the sight of my companion tonight.” 

 

Anya responded to my instruction before Cassandra could object. She untied the bow ribbons at the back of the under garment and then peeled it down from Cassandra’s body. In doing so she was careful not to touch Cassandra’s skin with her fingers.

 

Finally, Cassandra stood naked before me, and instinctively she placed one arm in front of her breasts and the other at her sex. 

 

“Simon?” she gazed with lowered eyes at me as I watched her.

 

“I agree with Anya,” I said. “My companion is very pretty.” And she was, though in truth I was now infatuated with Anya. 

 

I sat on the edge of the great bed and motioned for Cassandra to join me. To the side, Anya hung Cassandra’s clothes from hooks on the wall and watched the proceedings. She gave me a subtle nod of my head to indicate I was doing well.

 

To be honest, I would rather have put the irresistible Anya to use there and then, but she had assured me that tonight was all about Cassandra, and teaching her, her role in this relationship.

 

“Can’t we just sleep together, Simon?” said Cassandra as I unfolded her arms. “We can make love in the morning?”

 

I was hungry for a woman now. I picked up Cassandra’s right hand and placed it over my tunic where she could feel the stiffness of my penis. She recoiled from the touch, afraid of what it meant.

 

“You’re already aroused?!” she said with a nervous swallow of her throat. “Already?”

 

“I am. Just from the sight of you.”

 

“Can you be quick then?” She lay back on the bed, and placed her hands at her sides again. This time though would be different for her. For one, she could feel the warm evening breeze on her bare skin. That, and my hand now tracing lines across her breasts and belly, and between her thighs.

 

“No! Please don’t!” she sat up suddenly, self-conscious of my touch. There was no fabric between my hand and her body! She could feel everything! “I want to wear a slip garment.”

 

“You are perfect as you are.” I pushed her back down again and, as she tried to cross her arms over her breasts, I prized them free, holding her wrists in each of my hands, forcing them to her sides. I felt her gasp as she felt her wrists held like that. And then I did what Anya had earlier suggested, as we coupled briefly in the garden. I raised Cassandra’s wrists and placed them before the slave ring at the head of the bed.

 

“Simon! No! You can’t! I forbid it!” 

 

But I had already procured some binding fibre and was tying her wrists together, despite her protests and then once tied, secured them both to the slave ring above her head with more fibre. With her arms pulled back like that, there was now a slight arch to her lower back and of course her breasts were lifted by the pose. She wriggled against the bonds and felt that familiar feeling slaves know only too well, when they find themselves helplessly bound.

 

“You can’t tie me to a slave ring!”

 

“Has a slave ever been tied to it?” I asked. I doubted it very much.

 

“No…”

 

“Then it isn’t a slave ring; rather it is a ring for my free woman to be tied to. How do you feel?”

 

“I don’t like this!” Her skin was flushed and excited. I had seen it often enough to know. I parted her thighs and felt a moistness there now. The proud Cassandra Assante was beginning to oil nicely. 

 

“I think you may be a little more in the mood now, beloved.”

 

“I am not!” She held her body rigid, which made it all the more easy for me to touch her and provoke an instinctive reaction to prove she wasn’t in control in the slightest. 

 

Her eyes were wide now, as she realised how her body had jumped to my touch. Desperately she tried to control herself, breathing deeply now to steady her heart beat. “Please, just do what you have to do, Simon. Do it quickly!”

 

“I will.” But it wouldn’t be quick. I began caressing her, paying particular attention to her stomach, her breasts, and her thighs. I did nothing more, except slowly, carefully, arouse her. I think she wanted me to just penetrate her and finish quickly, but I was in no hurry. Soon Cassandra was deeply aroused, showing all the bodily signs of being in heat. Only then did I touch her between the thighs and she gasped incredibly loud as she must have felt something of what kajirae feel. 

 

That was enough. Just to see her gasp in a series of rippling tremors that made her body pull desperately hard against the slave ring and her tight bindings. Her nipples were swollen and red. Her thighs were shaking. She was very much in heat. I knew that if I penetrated her now, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from achieving an orgasm. It wouldn’t take many thrusts, either. 

 

There was a sense of fear in her eyes as I mounted her and placed the head of my penis against her sex. Desperately she shook her head. I think she understood what was about to happen. And then I pushed deep inside her, feeling the wetness as I slid in with ease. 

 

I rode her hard and fast, not pausing to give her time to recover. I wanted to drive her to an orgasm, and when she did come, she screamed and shook on the bed like some animal. I rode her further, through her orgasm, until I then achieved my own. And then I withdrew, leaving her tied to the slave ring.

 

I watched her curl her legs to her belly and whimper softly, feeling the afterglow of the orgasm. 

 

Now she knew. She would always remember what it felt like. Anya had told me that she would be ‘spoilt for freedom’ after being aroused like that. 

 

“It will be like an itch that she desperately needs to scratch, master,” Anya had said in the garden. “The memory will burn deep inside her. Left long enough, she will be unable to sleep, twisting and turning in her heat. She will never be her frigid self again. Never. You will see.”

 

I smiled as I saw my companion clutching the slave ring with her fingers as she tried to make sense of her reaction to that delicious orgasm. 

 

Now she knew.

 

Now things would be very different.