Slaver of Gor - Chapter Two

 

 

I returned home and, as always, the first thing I did was call for Beth to help me undress.

 

“Greetings Mistress. I hope you had a good day?” Beth has worn my collar for three years now and has proven to be an excellent slave. Had she not, I would have swiftly sold her. 

 

“A productive day, Beth. I can’t complain.”

 

“I have a bottle of wine open for you, Mistress. And tonight I am serving a pot roast.” Beth’s hands went to the complicated series of laces, ties, hooks and clasps at the back of my gown, carefully, but quickly loosening them, one by one. It is night on impossible of course for me to dress or undress myself alone and unaided. Beth wore a short, close fitting white tunic with sharp slits at each side of the skirt to expose her thighs. The stretchy rep cloth showed off her figure and the deep neckline exposed the valley of her breasts. 

 

Does it perhaps surprise you that I dress my slave in the same way a man might? Most free women would insist their slave wore a more modest, loose fitting tunic, but in my case there was method to my madness. It was important that I disguised certain aspects of my femininity. It would not do for me to appear too feminine before my caste brothers. And so, I permitted Beth to display her own sexuality, for it would draw attention away from me. When we were together, the eyes of men would concentrate on Beth, and they might not detect subtle signs of my own body through my concealing garments, and how pleasing that body might be if I was similarly attired. Beth served as a useful distraction. 

 

I was relieved to be out of my gowns because it meant I could now loosen and remove the strips of binding cloth I had worn around my chest area to reduce the visibility of my large breasts. The strips of cloth, combined with loose, unbelted gowns, gave the illusion of my body being less deliciously curved than it actually is. But it is uncomfortable to bind my breasts like that, and as soon as I am home I remove the cloth strips. 

 

I gazed at my breasts in the wall mirror as I stood, naked, while Beth hung my garments away. No man would take me seriously as a slaver if he could see me now. They must never see me like this.  

 

“Is something wrong, Mistress?” asked Beth as she regarded me. 

 

“No. Bring me my evening gown.”

 

At home, for comfort, I wore a silk dressing gown of ankle length with long sleeves that flopped over my wrists. The gown was an open design that I wrapped about my body and then secured with a sash belt. I breathed softly, feeling more comfortable like this, though it was unsettling to find Beth now much taller than me, once I had kicked off my block heel shoes. Beth is five feet seven inches tall, and so looks down at me in the evenings. Even with my heels, she still enjoys a two inch advantage. 

 

I felt considerably more relaxed once I shrugged on my pretty silk dressing gown and tied the belt sash in a bow about my waist. I slipped my bare feet into a pair of soft, sequinned slippers and regarded myself again in the mirror. How obvious my breasts were now, in the brushed silk, with the sash tied tightly about me. I could imagine what a man might think if he saw me like this. 

 

“Mistress is very pretty tonight,” said Beth as she handed me a goblet of wine. 

 

“Thank you, Beth you are a treasure, as always.”

 

“I strive to please you, Mistress,” said Beth with a soft smile of deference. 

 

Maybe this also surprises you, that Beth, my slave, is happy to be in my collar. Do you perhaps think that slaves fear free women and wish they were the property of men instead? Perhaps sometimes, but often not, in my experience. The slave girl appreciates the fact that a Mistress will protect them from the lustful advances of a man. Beth, my own girl, in the three years she has been my property, has served me well, and I’ve been kind and considerate in return to her. I do not offer her out to male guests, and I do not expect her to spread her thighs in nadu before them. I permit her to retain her dignity, and she in turn has grown to love me, and cherish serving me, as a result. Despite the difference in our status, the slave cares for her mistress, and I in turn care for her.

 

Some nights, we even talk together as girls might. I allow Beth some wine and she offers me insights into the life of a slave, which is valuable information for one of my caste. I can be a better slaver if I know how slaves feel and think. I can get inside of their heads from a psychological point of view.

 

I think Beth is very lucky to have me as a mistress. 

 

“Can you imagine,” I once said to her, “what it might have been like if a man had bought you?”

 

“Yes, Mistress, I can,” she said softly, deferentially, with a loving smile. 

 

“I saved you from that, from his lustful desires,” I said proudly. There had been a man who had wanted her, who had appraised her rather thoroughly in fact, but I outbid him. 

 

“Yes, you did, Mistress, and I shall never forget it.”

 

She was so grateful. 

 

It is important not to relax discipline of course. A slave is still a slave, but that aside, there is no reason to be cruel to a girl that you own. So long as she does her very best to make your life easier, then she deserves to be treated well, and see how she has blossomed in my collar. She is the person, now, that she was always meant to be. 

 

“You should know, Mistress, that master Bryssius called on the house this afternoon. He has asked whether you might accompany him tomorrow night.”

 

“Oh?” I sipped my wine.

 

“There is a performance, a recitation, by none other than Ludovold of Tetrapoli, of his famous literary treatise on the ‘Semantic Conception of Truth and Honour’ that he thought you might enjoy attending. There will be light refreshments and every Lady in attendance receives a bouquet of freshly cut flowers, of carefully chosen colours that compliment her hair.”  

 

I considered this. “When did I last see Bryssius?”

 

“Nine days ago, Mistress.”

 

“And when did I last see Tywin?”

 

“Five days ago, Mistress.”

“I suppose I can accompany Bryssius then, though the evening sounds tedious.”

 

“There will be wine there, Mistress.”

 

I smiled. Maybe I might survive the evening after all. I sipped from my goblet again and paced about the room. “Anything else?

 

“Why, yes, Mistress.” There was a sense from the tone of her voice that she had saved the major piece of information for last. “Your kajirus arrived today.”

 

“Julian?” I turned round, feeling the evening was possibly improving immeasurably. 

 

“Yes, Mistress. Men delivered him this afternoon.”

 

“Oh.” I smiled over the rim of my goblet. I had bought my first silk slave three days ago. I had seen him in the slave pens and was impressed by his training.

 

Also by his size and muscles. 

 

And his handsome features. 

 

I could see already that at auction he would command a high price, and so I abused my position in the house to purchase him before his training was complete, before he might be auctioned at the Buhara, which is where we auction most of our quality stock. I got him for a very good price before any trainer might inform her superiors of Julian’s progress.  

 

Julian was dark haired, six feet three inches tall, with broad shoulders, a wide smiling mouth and good teeth; heavy muscles from his previous caste as a metal worker, and, so I read in his training papers, well above average virility when stimulated. 

 

The Lady Vihara, his trainer, had made some oblique notation to the effect that, ‘his eventual mistress will be a very lucky woman’, though how she knew that for certain, so early in his training, before he might be given a slave slut to practice with, was hard to fathom. I was tempted to speak to the Lady Vihara but thought that might be unwise as it would be seen as expressing interest and I wanted to purchase Julian quietly and without any fuss. 

 

There was one other notation on his papers, again by the same Lady Vihara. It read simply, ‘semi-tamed’. That interested me. It sound like he might be rather ‘spirited’ in the furs when I put him to use, as the helpless silk slave that he was.

 

“Where is he now?” I asked.    

 

“I chained him to an iron ring in the yard,” said Beth. “He has been fed, but minimally. Do you wish to see him, Mistress?”

 

I gazed quickly at my reflection and swept back a stray lock of hair.

 

“Mistress is very beautiful,” said Beth, noticing my gesture. “The kajirus will hardly believe his luck when he sees who now owns him.”

 

“You say the loveliest things, Beth,” I said as I drank some more wine. “Yes, bring him inside.”

 

I felt a sense of excitable anticipation as I waited in my suite of private rooms. I gazed out of my windows overlooking the gardens below. At night the heavy shutters would be drawn and locked so as to prevent undesirables attempting to gain entrance to the house. I lived in a good neighbourhood within Argentum, but every free woman knew she should never take any chances when night fell. 

 

Crime does not respect the distinctions between city quarters. 

 

I had considered buying a silk slave for some time, but had never set my mind on one until now. What had changed? I was not sure. It wasn’t simply the man, but rather the timing too. In the past I had prevaricated, but now the time was right. I would buy a man, I would own a man, I would take my pleasure with a man. 

 

I am attracted to men. Very much so. A free woman is allowed that, of course. There is nothing wrong with it. Attraction to the opposite sex is healthy in both men and women, and essential for the reproduction of the species. One day soon I would free companion, but before then I wanted to experience a man on my own terms, subject to my own wishes. 

 

Julian would find me a strict but fair mistress. Slavers generally are. We have caste experience with slaves and know how far it is necessary to go, and when to show a modicum of kindness. 

 

The doors opened and Beth led Julian into my rooms. He was as I remembered him, and he smiled when he saw me. Such a smile! That wide mouth and clean white teeth – the sign of a healthy male. He wore a rolled length of white cloth tied about his waist, and from this a second, much longer length of flat cloth was thrust over the cloth belt in front, taken then down and under between his legs, passed under and over the belt in back and then adjusted to draw it tight about his loins. The ends hung in a pretty fashion between his thighs. His long dark hair was brushed neatly back and tied with a pretty ribbon. The slave looked clean and had been lightly perfumed with a dark scent of my choosing. 

 

“Mistress,” said Julian as he regarded me for the first time. I was unveiled, some locks of hair loosened from my upswept arrangement, and I had touched my cheeks with a little powder to smooth my complexion.  

 

But he seemed not to look at my face. He looked at my breasts, so obvious in the brushed silk of my belted dressing gown.

 

“Stop that!” I said, angrily. To my satisfaction he looked away. 

 

“Forgive me, Mistress,” he said.

 

“That is NOT a good start!” I said as I paced around him, admiring his strong muscles and broad shoulders. He towered above me of course, but I was the mistress here, and he was the slave. When he said nothing more, I stood to his left and tapped my foot. I then turned to regard Beth.

 

“You may leave us now, Beth. You have some personal time to yourself this evening.”

 

“Thank you, Mistress,” said Beth. She smiled and briefly glanced at Julian, before turning round and departing my rooms. I waited until she was gone, down the corridor, and then I turned my gaze back to the silk slave. 

 

“Do you know who I am?”

 

“No, I do not,” he said. He was careful not to look obviously at the lines and curves of my breasts in the brushed silk dressing gown. Good. The next time I caught him doing that, he would be whipped. But he was an intelligent man, according to his slave papers. He would sense my displeasure and strive to avoid any such punishment.

 

“Were you not shown the inscription on your collar?” He wore a steel collar, locked about his neck, of course, for he was my property.

 

“I cannot read.”

 

 I smiled. Of course he couldn’t read. He had been a metal worker. Just a simple illiterate man. 

 

“Your collar proclaims you to be the property of Lady Amicia Katares of Argentum. I am Lady Amicia Katares of Argentum.”

 

Julian nodded. He gazed around the room, taking in the opulence and luxury of my furnishings. “You are a wealthy woman?”

 

“I am. I suppose you want to know how much I paid for you?” I said with a smile. All slaves are curious about that.

 

“It’s not important,” said Julian. He looked rather boldly then at my face. 

 

“Are you curious why I bought you?”

 

“I think I can guess. I’m to be your silk slave.”

 

I nodded. “You will find me to be a strict but fair mistress. Obey me superbly at all times, and your slavery will not be unpleasant.”

 

“I can imagine,” said Julian with a smile.

 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means, I am glad the woman who bought me isn’t some ugly sand sleen.”

 

I laughed softly. “Flattery doesn’t work on me, Julian.” And yet I was secretly pleased he thought that. I tilted my head slightly and regarded him with the professional gaze I use to assess women that I consider buying. “Do you understand the duties of a silk slave? Did you get that far in your training before I bought you?”

 

“It was explained to me, yes. I am essentially your personal slave, to attend to your personal needs.”

 

“Good. I think we are already getting along better now.” I touched his chest and felt the rock hard muscles there. “You will attend to me during the day as a demure kajira might. I will take you shopping. You will serve me wine. You will comb my hair, polish my nails, and fetch and carry upon command. I will show you off to my female friends. You are to be charming, respectful, obedient and utterly delightful at all times. The Ladies I know will be jealous when they see you, and I’m looking forward to that. Aside from anything else, I suspect they will want silk slaves of their own, after seeing you, and that will be good for my business. I am of the caste of slavers. I buy and sell slaves.”

 

“Men?” he asked with a puzzled expression.

 

“Not usually. I deal mostly in women. But there is a growing market for male silk slaves, and it will be good to have first-hand experience of owning one for when I choose to expand my business.”

 

“You think you will learn something from owning me?”

 

“Of course. It will be educational for me.”

 

“I’m sure it will be,” said Julian with a smile. 

 

I paced around him as he stood there. I touched his lower back, then his ass, and then his left thigh. I felt strong muscles everywhere I looked. “There are other duties, too,” I said thoughtfully, after a while.

 

“Oh?” He glanced round as I circled him, but again he was careful not to stare at my breasts. Good boy, He was a quick learner. 

 

“At night. Other duties at night.”

 

He grinned.

 

“You will follow my precise instructions at all times!” I said sharply as I raised a finger and held it before his face. “At ALL times. You will touch me only when I permit it, and only as I tell you to.” I walked to a far wall and took down a whip. It was a single stranded whip, suitable for disciplining men. It was too savage, too harsh, to use on a woman. “Do you see this?”

 

“Yes,” said Julian. I didn’t see any fear in his eyes as I walked slowly towards him, brandishing the whip.

 

“Do I need to whip you now, so that you will understand the pain I can inflict should you displease me in ANY way?”

 

“You will do as you wish, I suppose,” said Julian. “Do you want to whip me now?”

 

I thought about this for a moment. “No.”

 

“Then put the whip away,” he replied. He seemed bored with it. 

 

“You seem very calm.” I raised the whip handle. “I could whip you. You would be screaming on the floor after the fifth stroke.”

 

“I presume you do not wish my service tonight, then?” said Julian.

 

He was of course right. If I beat him harshly with the snake, he would be in no condition to warm my furs tonight. I shrugged and lowered the whip. 

 

“The whip in the hands of a woman is only a threat if the woman plans on using it,” said Julian. Again, he seemed very relaxed.

 

“Serve me wine in the manner of a slave girl, Julian. I wish to see what you have been taught.” I crossed the floor and lay down on a couch, letting the silk gown part slightly from my legs. I rested my right elbow on the couch and touched my chin with the fingers of my hand as Julian walked towards the wine, nearby. I watched him pour the wine slowly and carefully and then cross the floor to where he knelt with his thighs spread, close to where I lay.

 

“Wine, Mistress?” he asked as he regarded me.

 

“Eyes lowered when you serve wine,” I snapped.

 

He lowered his eyes.

 

“Speak again, but personalise what you say.”

 

“Julian, your silk slave, serves you wine, Mistress.” He extended the goblet with both hands towards me. I took the goblet and slid my left foot, still in its pretty slipper, to the floor, close to where he knelt with his head down.

 

“Kiss my foot, Julian.”

 

He did so. 

 

“Say, ‘I kiss the foot of my mistress. How may I serve her further’?”

 

He spoke the words and I smiled as I felt his lips press against the tip of my slipper. “Good. That is soft and deferential. I am pleased.” I lifted my foot slightly, arching it, pointing the toe of the sipper toward him, and taking the prompt, Julian kissed it again. 

 

“Pretty little silk slave,” I said as I sipped my wine. 

 

 Yes, owning a man was every bit as enjoyable as I had hoped it would be.