Slaver of Gor – Chapter Ten

 

 

I knew what I had to do, of course. I had known it as I hurried home, no longer escorted by a bell ringing kajira.

 

There was no doubt in my mind that Beth would say something that would undermine my answers today. It was a certainty. It didn’t even need to be malicious on her part. They would simply fire pre-prepared questions at her and the girl would let slip some minor observation that would cast further doubt on my ‘purity’. In turn, those answers would then prove to be the legal basis for me to be summoned a second time.

 

A second appearance before the pudoris concilio would be very different from the first. I had heard of such second appointments. The second time a woman is summoned to the concillo, she appears there naked, her wrists chained together behind the small of her back, with a connecting length of chain securing her to the iron ring. 

 

This is because she is only summoned a second time if there is evidence she lied at her first hearing. And if she lied to the pudoris concilio, she no longer warrants the delicate and respectful treatment she had previously.

 

They would find something they could use, possibly many things, from the interview with Beth. A slave girl has to speak the truth, and if Beth showed any signs of hesitancy or obfuscation, she could be subject to torture. Beth had no reason to see me suffer, but facing those monstrous women she would have little choice but to tell them whatever they wanted to know.

 

What could Beth say that was damning? Oh, any one of a thousand things, no doubt. A look on my face once, the way she saw me touch the oiled muscles of Julian, words I had softly spoken to her in private, in strict confidence, about my feelings on certain issues. A wealth of information for those masked women to tap.

So, yes, I knew what I had to do.

 

I had to kill Beth before she could be interrogated.

 

That was the only sensible recourse that might save me.

 

It wouldn’t even be murder. She was my property. I was allowed to kill her for any reason at all. I wouldn’t even have to justify it, though the concilio would of course see it as me covering my tracks. But even so, without a witness to interrogate, they couldn’t pursue the case any further.

 

So, yes, Beth would have to die.

 

It would be simple enough, too. I could simply chain her to a couple of slave rings and then, while she was helpless, pick up a knife and cut her throat open.

 

I could imagine the terror in her eyes as she would realise in those last few seconds what was going to happen to her, if not the reason why. She would struggle, helplessly, desperate to save her own life. She would scream for mercy. 

 

And by the time I reached my home, I knew of course I was incapable of actually killing Beth.

 

I just couldn’t do it.

 

Not even to save my own life. 

 

I am not that sort of person. 

 

Beth had been my slave for several years. I couldn’t do this to her.  

 

And so I was damned. 

 

“It went badly, Mistress?” asked Beth as she saw me crying again, as I hurried inside and closed the door on the outside world. I simply nodded by way of reply, but couldn’t tell her of the turmoil in my head – the terrible decision I had concluded in her favour. She stood there in my hallway, and I pictured how I might look just like her so very soon. Collar, brand, slave tunic. 

 

“Have they decided?” asked Beth. She walked towards me and reached out to touch my arm in sympathy.

 

“Not yet. But it’s inevitable now. I have just over a week.”

 

“Until what, Mistress?”

 

“Until they do pass judgement. And I know what they will do.”

 

“Oh, Mistress…” Beth led me by the hand into my rooms. “It will be slavery, then?”

 

I nodded, grimly. “They will find a way. It’s only a matter of time.” But my mind was still racing, still looking for a possible way out that didn’t involve killing Beth. I could sell her of course, but sales of slaves are recorded in the cylinder of justice. The pudoris concilio would simply track down Beth’s new owner. I could try and sell Beth to someone leaving the city, but that would take longer than selling her to a slave house, or a citizen of Argentum. Such people are hard to find at short notice. I couldn’t even advertise the sale of Beth, for the pudoris concilio would simply buy her through an anonymous intermediary.

 

The more I thought about it, the more I realised the sensible thing would be to kill Beth. 

 

And the more I looked at my slave, the more I realised that was something I could not do. She cherished life, even life in a collar. I never understood that. How horrible it must be to be a slave, and yet she preferred that life to no life at all. So many slaves do, especially the ones that belong to men. I have seen them, happy and laughing, heeling their masters in the street. 

 

I could flee the city, but they would see that as an admission of guilt and they would petition a magistrate for me to be declared outlaw. A bounty hunter would soon find me. I would be brought back to the city, naked, in chains. I had no idea how to hide myself. I had only ever lived in Argentum. I knew nothing of surviving as a fugitive. 

 

“Mistress,” Beth poured me a heavy goblet of wine. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but…”

 

“But what?” I sobbed as I accepted the goblet with a shaking hand.

 

“A life as a slave is still a life. You will eventually adjust to the collar.”

 

I gazed up at her. “That will never happen.”

 

Beth laughed softly. “So many women say that when their necks are bare, Mistress. So few say that a year later when they lie in the furs with their Master.”

 

“Master?!” I could barely comprehend the idea.

 

“You will have a Master, Mistress, I have no doubt about that.”

“Why? Why are you so sure?” I drank some of the wine and curled my feet up beneath me on my couch. 

 

“I have seen my mistress naked, many times. Men will want to buy her.”

 

“I fear my body, Beth. I fear what I see.”

 

“And so you should, Mistress, while you are a free woman, at least. Your body will betray you if a man sees you unclothed.”

 

“Do not confuse me with a natural slave, Beth. I am not one of those!”

 

Beth said nothing.

 

“Tell me I am right! Tell me you agree, Beth!”

 

“Is that a command, Mistress?”

 

“No! Of course it isn’t. I want to you tell me you agree, but speaking the truth when you do!”

 

“The truth is that Mistress has the body of a slave. And she knows that. She has always known that, which is why she tries so hard to disguise it.”

 

“You are insolent. When did I last have you whipped, Beth?!”

 

“When you bought me, Mistress. Only then. You have threatened me with the whip many times since, but you have only used it on me the once.”

 

“I know.” I put the cup to my lips. “I have been lax in my discipline with you. You speak far too freely in front of me.”

 

“Perhaps,” said Beth with a smile. “Or perhaps that first time was enough.”

 

I fell asleep on my couch later that evening. Beth had refilled my cup many times and before long the stress and anxiety from the past week had sent me into a deep sleep. I woke early in the morning with a hangover, still fully clothed from the night before. I rose from the soft couch, feeling slightly unsteady on my feet. 

 

I was still free. I would still be free for perhaps another seven days. Suddenly every day of freedom tasted precious to me. I thought of all the days I had wasted before, always assuming I had a lifetime to enjoy, ahead of me. I walked to a narrow window that overlooked the courtyard outside. There in the shade of some trees was a small enclosure in which Julian was chained for the night. Beth would have chained him there as she did every night. The enclosure had three walls and a roof, but the fourth side was open to the outside. It was enough to keep him dry when it rained. The nights were warm this time of year, and he had blankets in any case. Inside the enclosure was an iron ring to which his collar would be chained. I would not have a silk slave sleep inside my house while I did. It was basic security, as we always advised women who purchased such men. 

 

Beth was in the kitchen when I made my way there. She smiled as I entered, seeing me pad around in my bare feet. 

 

“I thought it best not to undress you last night, Mistress. I thought you needed the sleep.”

 

“Thank you, Beth.” I gazed at her as she continued to cook breakfast. No, I couldn’t kill her. I listened to her sing a song softly as she worked. Beth has a pleasing voice and I allow such things. I could smell smoked tarsk strips frying in butter and also freshly baked rolls. 

 

“I feel very hungry this morning,” I said. 

 

Beth turned over the tarsk strips and smiled. “Mistress slept for ten ahn.”

 

“No?!” I was shocked. That was half a day! What had come over me?

 

“Oh yes, technically this is lunch,” she said with a laugh. She licked some butter from her fingers and watched me move unsteadily about the place. Bizarrely I reeled a little and knocked some pans over. 

 

“Leave them, Mistress. I will tidy up after breakfast. Perhaps some fresh air outside?”

I nodded and made my way out into the courtyard as Beth continued cooking. 

 

Ten ahn! I never slept that long. It must have been all the wine. That and the after effects of the stress and anxiety, which as I thought about it, began to return. I cursed myself for wasting a whole evening wallowing in self-pity when I possibly only had seven of them remaining as a free woman. I should have been thinking of some way out of this nightmare before the jaws of the trap closed shut around me. There had to be a way to escape this condemnation, short of killing Beth. But my head felt sluggish this morning and I vowed not to touch any more wine until I had a plan in mind.

 

I stopped beside the enclosure where I heard the stirring of steel chain links.

 

“Julian. You’ve been left in there all morning?”

 

“Yes, Mistress.” 

 

I saw him crouched in the enclosure, a heavy steel chain hanging from his collar rings. His blanket lay discarded and he was naked.

 

Thrillingly, enticingly naked. I felt a stirring in my body despite my hangover. 

 

“I had hoped…” he began to say something and then seemed embarrassed. He looked away. He couldn’t say what he had been about to say.

 

“What?” I smiled and crouched down beside the open side of his enclosure.

 

“It is nothing.”

 

“Well, I want to her what this nothing is. What had you hoped for?”

 

He seemed to blush. “I had hoped my mistress might have had some use for me last night.” He seemed to hate himself for saying that.

 

I laughed softly, for I was pleased to hear the words. 

 

“Poor silk slave. Desperate for the touch of his mistress?”

 

“Yes.” He gritted his teeth as if in some mental turmoil. “I can’t help how I feel, Mistress!” he said suddenly. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The fact that you own me…” his voice trailed away.

 

“Do you really think I am so beautiful?” I said as I reached out to touch his shoulder. “You must have known many women in your time.”

 

“I have.” He couldn’t met my gaze. “But none like you. It is agony to not know when I can next crawl to your couch and beg to be put to use.”

 

I was right, of course. Men can be tamed and trained just as well as girls can. Poor Julian. He longed for the nights when I would make him grip the iron ring set into the headboard, when I would slowly undress, savouring the reaction that I saw, when I would then walk towards him, where he lay on his broad, muscular back, that look of need in his eyes. I would pause by the couch and look down on his naked body, admiring that formidable erection.

 

And then I would mount him. I no longer turned my back on him, for he was well trained. “Do not look at me, slave,” I would say as I would slide down onto his shaft, holding back the pent up sigh that threatened to escape my lips. He would grunt with unimaginable pleasure as I slowly rode down on him, clenching my knees either side of his body. He was mine. I would put him to use. And it was bliss.

 

I had noticed that recently when I was pushing down on him he would push in step with my movements, and that seemed to increase my pleasure. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the sensations were sharper, more intense when Julian skilfully thrust back with his hips towards me. After a while I began to match his rhythm, instead of maintaining my own, and I would feel an exhilaration that I wasn’t able to control. 

 

It was easy enough after a while to just give in to the pleasure and not make any serious attempt to control the congress between our bodies. Now, although I always initiated the union of our bodies, Julian would swiftly take over, thrusting into me. I would sit there astride him, moaning, crying out, my hands in my hair, my head shaking wildly.

 

“Good mistress,” he would say to me. “Very good, mistress. There is no need to hold back. No need at all.”

 

The last time I had put him to use I had suddenly said something without thinking. “Touch me,” I had said. His hands had left the iron ring and they had touched my breasts as he had thrust hard inside of me. I had cried out with pleasure as his hands had played firmly with my breasts and nipples, and he had sat up against the headboard, reaching his mouth to those nipples and pleasuring me there with his lips and tongue. 

 

And then, and then… he had lain me on my back and had mounted me properly, and I had let him. I had raised my knees and closed my ankles about his bottom as he then rode me until I reached a glorious climax. 

 

“Good, Mistress,” he had said as I lay there, exhausted, supine, glowing inside. And then he had kissed me on the lips!

 

My silk slave had kissed me on my lips!

 

And it had felt good. 

 

I had slept soundly that night. Some of the best sleep I have ever known, in fact. The wine I had drunk that night may have contributed to it, too, but mostly, I think, it was the beautiful climax. I had slept so well that I had forgotten to have Julian chained outside. Only when I awoke did I suddenly realise my lapse in security. But he was still there, and he had not tried to kill me in my sleep.

 

He is tame, you see.

 

I have tamed him. 

 

I, Amicia Katares of Argentum have tamed and trained a man.

 

The key to Julian’s collar chain hung from a hook within sight of his eyes, but well out of reach of his hands. I picked it up off the hook and showed it to him.

 

“Mistress,” he said, bowing his head.

 

“Such a good silk slave,” I said, feeling better already. There is nothing like exercising power over a man to put you in a good mood in the morning. I reached through the opening and unlocked his collar. He was now free to move about. Julian rose from the enclosure and stretched his limbs as I watched. 

 

He was so strong! Such a brute! 

 

“Come, sit with me,” I said, beckoning him with the crook of my finger. I have such power over men. He knelt in nadu beside my low table, where I often took my breakfast in the mornings, enjoying the sound of birdsong in the trees and bushes. Beth emerged shortly afterwards with the plates and cups and I began to eat, occasionally feeding Julian by hand. 

 

It is important that a woman teaches a man that he is dependent on his mistress for food. Hunger and reward becomes part of his conditioning. 

 

“Mistress, I was thinking last night,” said Beth as she knelt beside me. “While you were fast asleep.”

 

“Oh?” I gazed at the girl.

 

“Your situation, Mistress. If it is as dire as you say it is, you have to leave the city before you are taken into custody. You must act while you are still free.”

“If I am seen to flee, it will be an admission of guilt. I would be brought back in chains.”

 

“True, Mistress, but what if you had a valid reason for leaving the city? One that could not be construed as fleeing because of implied guilt?”

 

“What sort of reason?” 

 

“Mistress is a slaver. The spectre of war with Coryrus is now a real possibility. Does Mistress not sometimes join the baggage train of the cohorts, travelling in the wake of that army, to procure slaves from each battle? Is that not her business?”

 

“Yes, yes it is. I have often done so.” I felt a moment of elation as the sun shone brightly down on my courtyard.

 

“No one could accuse the Mistress of fleeing, when it is simply business as usual. And Mistress would, for a time at least, be out of the reach of the concilio. It would give Mistress time to think and plan.”

 

“Beth, you are a treasure. An absolute treasure. Begin packing. I feel now is a good time to acquire new slave stock!”